Santa Claus's Scout
by Eunice Ward.
On Christmas Eve, when lights are dim,
But eager eyes with excitement shine,
The Sandman steals from the chimney-place,
And glancing round, makes a backward sign.
He dips his hand in his pouch of sand,
The silver grains flinging far and white;
And listens, then, for the drowsy sighs
That come when eyes under lashes hide.
He softly tiptoes from crib to crib,
And sifts the sand in a tiny heap;
Then up the chimney he gaily calls,
"Come, Santa Claus, they are sound asleep!"
