"If Santa Claus Don't Come."

If Santa Claus forgets to come, I don't know what I'll do; I 'spect I'll get as bad as some An' cry a little, too; I wrote an' told him plain as day What he should buy an' bring; An' if he don't, I'll always say That he's a mean old thing!

I want a drum to pound all day Fer ev'ry pa.s.sin' crowd; A punchin'-bag an' foot-ball,--say, An' gun that shoots out loud; I'd like to have a pony, too, An' big dog fer a chum; Dear me, I don't know what I'll do If Santa Claus don't come!

I'll hang my stockin's anyway!

They won't hold half enough, But I'll jes' write a note, an' say The place to leave the stuff!

I'll jump in bed at candle-light, An' act both deaf an' dumb!

But 'twill be awful here tonight If Santa Claus don't come!

Of course, he may not have to spare Jes' ev'ry thing I lack, An' yet I hope he'll leave me there 'Bout all a boy can pack; But If he'll come an' bring a few, I'll not be very glum; But oh! I don't know what I'll do If Santa Claus don't come!

The Call of the Fiddle.

Don't you hear the fiddle, fellers?

It is singing to the bow All the glory of the music Underneath the mistletoe!

Then good-bye, Mister Sorrow!

For the cares have run away; Love and music both are shouting And we answer them "Hooray!"

Don't you hear the fiddle, fellers?

It is calling us to know Joys that circle to the music Underneath the mistletoe.

Then good-bye, Mister Sorrow, Good-bye for many a day!

Love's lips are smiling at us, And our hearts respond "Hooray!"

I have often thought it very appropriate that good resolutions come after instead of before the Christmas days. The heart is then in much better mood to give them pleasant welcome.

A Queer Dream.

"Ah done had a queeah dream las' night!" said Sambo.

"How was that? Tell us about it," said the interested white listener.

"Ah dreamed I wuz in hebben on Crissmuss eve, en de angels all had a Crissmuss tree en ole St. Petah played de Santa Claus, en de angels all got new French hawps in dey stockin's; en dey couldn't play 'em at all en de white angels all wanted fiddles en de black angels all wanted banjoes; en dey wuz a-havin' a awful time up dar, shuah!"

"Well, how did it come out?"

"Ah dunno how it come out! Jes' ez dey wus a'pintin' a ahbitratoh, my boy Jim sot up a howl foh 'possum en woke me up!"

The Same Old Gifts.

"What do you expect for Christmas, Major?" inquired the hospitable store-keeper as the gray-haired Major hobbled in with his crutch and rested his rheumatic leg on a sack of coffee.

"The same as usual, sir, the same as usual! My wife always works me a pair of slippers two sizes too small, each one of the girls gives me a neck-tie I can't wear because of its color, and each of the boys a new-fangled revolver I can't shoot and have to turn over to them. Only my old army friend in Kentucky knows me well enough to know what I can use."

"What is that?" inquired the amiable store-keeper.

"Four gallons of mountain-dew fresh from the still, bless G.o.d! And I always get away with it in plenty of time for good resolutions on New Year's day!" replied the valiant Major, smiling and smacking his lips.

The Greatest Gift.

The Wise Men in the desert bare, Heart-hungry in their need, Behold a Star, and forth they fare Wherever it may lead; And find at last, full reconciled, G.o.d's greatest gift,--a little child!

The ballot may be more powerful than the bullet, but sometimes the gun contains the wrong load.

For the New Year.

I.

Through all this New Year's varied walks and ways, Let us like kings Truth's royal raiment wear, And whatsoe'er the burdens of the days, With brave hearts bear; For amid the starless night Love exalts the lilies white, And the hours of wrath and wrong Leap with laughters of her song.

II.

Wherever fate may lead the vagrant feet, Let us hail Duty as Life's holy guest, And in the shock of battle bravely meet Foes breast to breast; For unto the timid fields Love her staunchest courage yields, And her martial music thrills To the summits of the hills.

III.