Cobbler and Stork Whilst round thy homely bench Thy well-belovèd played, In yonder hall beneath a pall A little one was laid; Thy well-belovèd's face Was rosy with delight, But 'neath that pall in yonder hall The little face is white; Whilst by a merry voice Thy soul is filled with cheer, Another weeps for one that sleeps All mute and cold anear; One father hath his hope, And one is childless now; He wears a crown and rules a town- At price of such a woe? I'll nest no more above thy door, Cobbler. Nay, stork! thou shalt remain— I would not change my bench IOI For any monarch's throne, My darling and my own! I'll thankful be God sent by thee Me and my darling here! JEST 'FORE CHRISTMAS FATHER calls me William, sister calls me Will, Mother calls me Willie, but the fellers call me Bill! Mighty glad I ain't a girl-ruther be a boy, Without them sashes, curls, an' things that's worn by Fauntleroy! Love to chawnk green apples an' go swimmin' in the lake Hate to take the castor-ile they give for belly ache! 'Most all the time, the whole year round, there ain't no flies on me, But jest 'fore Christmas I'm as good as I kin be! Got a yeller dog named Sport, sick him on the cat; First thing she knows she does n't know where she is at! Jest 'Fore Christmas 103 Got a clipper sled, an' when us kids goes out to slide, 'Long comes the grocery cart, an' we all hook a ride! But sometimes when the grocery man is worrited an' cross, He reaches at us with his whip, an' larrups up his hoss, An' then I laff and holler, "Oh, ye never teched me!" But jest 'fore Christmas I'm as good as I kin be! Gran'ma says she hopes that when I git to be a man, I'll be a missionarer like her oldest brother, Dan, As was et up by the cannibuls that lives in Ceylon's Isle, Where every prospeck pleases, an' only man is vile! But gran'ma she has never been to see a Wild West show, Nor read the Life of Daniel Boone, or else I guess she'd know That Buff'lo Bill an' cow-boys is good enough for me! Excep' jest 'fore Christmas, when I'm good as I kin be! And then old Sport he hangs around, so solemnly an' still, His eyes they seem a-sayin': "What's the matter, little Bill?” The old cat sneaks down off her perch an' wonders what's become Of them two enemies of hern that used to make things hum! But I am so perlite an' 'tend so earnestly to biz, That mother says to father: "How improved our Willie is!" But father, havin' been a boy hisself, suspicions me When, just 'fore Christmas, I'm as good as I kin be! For Christmas, with its lots an' lots of candies, cakes, and toys, Was made, they say, for proper kids an' not for naughty boys; So wash yer face an' bresh yer hair, an' mind yer p's and q's, An' don't bust out yer pantaloons, and don't wear out yer shoes; Say "Yessum" to the ladies, an' "Yessur" to the men, An' when they's company, don't pass yer plate for pie again; Ganderfeather's Gift 105 But, thinkin' of the things yer 'd like to see upon that tree, Jest 'fore Christmas be as good as yer kin be! GANDERFEATHER'S GIFT I WAS just a little thing When a fairy came and kissed me; Lo, the fairies came to sing Pretty slumber songs and bring Certain boons that else had missed me. From a dream I turned to see What those strangers brought for me, Simmerdew was there, but she Did not like me altogether; Daisybright and Turtledove, Thistleblow and Amberglee On that gleaming, ghostly sea Floated from the misty heather, And around my trundle-bed |