Jimmie's Letter To Santa

 JIMMIE'S LETTER TO SANTA

Dear Santa Claus: If you could bring
A patent doll to dance and sing;
A five-pound box of caramels;
A set of reins with silver bells;
An elephant that roars and walks;
A Brownie droll that laughs and talks;
A humming top that I can spin;
A desk to keep my treasures in;
A boat or two that I can sail;
A dog to bark and wag his tail;
A pair of little bantam chicks;
A chest of tools, a box of tricks;
A scarlet suit of soldier togs;
A Noah's ark of cats and dogs;
A bicycle and silver watch;
A pound or two of butter-scotch;
A small toy farm with lots of trees;
A gun to load with beans and peas;
An organ and a music-box;
A double set of building-blocks-
If you will bring me these, I say,
Before the coming of the day,
I sort of think perhaps that I'd
Be pretty nearly satisfied.

His Letter

 

His Letter
by T. B. Weaver

I wrote a neat little letter to jolly Saint Nick;
Neither papa nor mamma could read it - that's true;
I could read it right off, very easy and quick.
I think I'm much smarter than they are; don't you?

A Christmas Secret

 A CHRISTMAS SECRET

Christmas is a time of secrets,
So I'll whisper one to you;
Grandpa says that all who try it
Find that every word is true:
"Would you have a happy day?
Give some happiness away."

Grandpa says this little secret
Should be carried through the year;
And if all would try to heed it
Earth would soon be full of cheer.
"Would you have a happy day?
Give some happiness away."

Christmas In The Heart

CHRISTMAS IN THE HEART

It is Christmas in the mansion,
Yule-log fires and silken frocks;
It is Christmas in the cottage,
Mothers filling little socks;
It is Christmas on the highway,
In the thronging, busy mart;
But the dearest, truest Christmas
Is the Christmas in the heart.

The Toys He Doesn't Like

 THE TOYS HE DOESN'T LIKE

I have no use for iron toys,
Or linen books - can't bear 'em;
They're aggravating things for boys,
For I can't break or tear 'em.

The Turkey's Lament

THE TURKEY'S LAMENT

A merry Christmas, did you say?
I wonder how you'd feel
If you were going to be killed
To make a Christmas meal!

Why can't you eat nice fresh green grass?
Or feed upon some hay?
I'm sure it would be quite as good,
And more humane, I say.

The ducks and geese upon the farm
All quite agree with me;
And think it time to put a stop
To such barbarity.

We talked together late last night,
And think the wisest plan
Would be for us to take your place,
And just to kill a man.

And then perhaps you'd understand
A little how we feel,
And vegetarian diet choose,
To make your Christmas meal.

How Santa Claus Looks

 

How Santa Claus Looks

The Santa Claus Tom Brown once saw, he said was tall and slim;
The one I saw down at the store didn't look at all like him;
The one at our house Christmas-time looked just like any man;
I can't explain just how this is - perhaps the big folks can.