Stories and Poems
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Stories and Poems |
Jest 'Fore Christmas
Father calls me William, sister calls me Will, Mother calls me Willie but the fellers call me Bill! Mighty glad 1 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 isn't no flies on me, But jest 'fore Christmas I'm as good as 1 kin be!
Got a yeller dog named Sport, sick him on the cat. First thing she knows she doesn't know where she is at! 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 boss, An' then 1 laff an' holler, "Oh, ye never teched me!" But jest'fore Christmas I'm as good as 1 kin be!
Gran'ma says she hopes that when 1 git to be a man, I'll he a missionarer like her oldest brother, Dan, As was et up by the cannibals that live 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 1 guess she'd know That Bufr lo Bill an' cowboys is good enough for me! Excep' jest 'fore Christmas, when I'm as good as 1 kin be!
And then old Sport he hangs around, so solemn-like 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 hecomeof them two enemies of hern that used to make things hum! But 1 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 mewhen, jest 'fore Christmas, I'm as good as 1 kin be!
For Christmas, with its lots an' lots of candies, cakes an' 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, And don't bust out yer pantaloons, and don't wear out yer shoes; Say "Yessum" to the ladies, and "Yessur" to the men, An' when they's company, don'a pass yer plate for pie again; But, thinking' of the things yer'd like to see upon that tree, Jest 'fore Christmas be as good as yer kin be!
When Snow Falls
Cats sit quiet, still, inside,
In the warm, on the windowsill.
Dogs run and jump about,
Outside, in the cold, happy to be out.
When snow falls children, wrapped in
The warmth of layered clothes,
Thick socks,
Coats, hats, scarves and mittens,
Do not behave as little kittens
But in their joy do run
And jump and shout.
Glad little puppies.
Glad to be out.
Winter People
by Glenda J. Graves
Winter people
Hang out in warm places
Occupy spaces
Small,
Cubby holes
And sofa corners
Over-stuffed chairs
And comforters,
Down-filled jackets
And long underwear.
Small faces
In winter places
Consume good cheer
With very bright smiles
High style
Hot chocolate
Warm breads
Hot cheese
If you please.
THE OXEN
Christmas Eve, and twelve of the clock.
"Now they are all on their knees,"
An elder said as we sat in a flock
By the embers in fireside ease.
We pictured the meek mild creatures where
They dwelt in their strawy pen,
Nor did it occur to one of us there
To doubt they were kneeling then.
So fair a fancy few would weave
In these years! Yet, I feel,
If someone said on Christmas Eve,
"Come: see the oxen kneeling then.
So faire a fancy few would weave
In those years! Yet, I feel,
If someone said on Christmas Eve,
"Come; see the oxen kneel
"In the lonely baron by yonder coomb
Our childhood used to know,"
I should go with him in the gloom,
Hoping it might be so.
Christmas Eve
On Christmas Eve my mother read
The story once again,
Of how the little Child was born,
And of the Three Wise Men.
And how by following the Star
They found Him where He lay,
And brought Him gifts; and that is why
We keep our Christmas Day.
And when she read it all, I went
And looked across the snow,
And thought of Jesus coming
As He did so long ago.
I looked into the East, and saw
A great star blazing bright;
There were three men upon the road
All black against the light.
I thought I heard the angels sing,
Away upon the hill .......
I held breath ......it seemed as if
The whole great world were still.
It seemed to me the little Child
Was being born again ......
And very near ......and Then somehow
Was Now or Now was Then!
Santa Claus
He comes in the night! He comes in the night!
He softly, silently comes;
While the little brown heads on the pillows so white
Are dreaming of bugles and drums.
He cuts through the snow like a ship through the foam,
While the white flakes around him whirl;
Who tells him I know not, but he findeth the home
Of each good little boy and girl.
His sleigh it is long, and deep, and wide;
It will carry a host of things
While dozens of drums hang over the side,
With the sticks sticking under the strings.
And yet not the sound of a drum is heard,
Not a bugle blast is blown,
As he mounts to the chimney-top like a bird,
And drops to the hearth like a stone.
The little red stocking he silently fills,
Till the stockings will hold no more;
The bright little sleds for the great snow hills
Are quickly set down on the floor.
Then Santa Claus mounts to the roof like a bird,
And glides to his seat in the sleigh;
Not the sound of a bugle or drum is heard
As he noiselessly gallops away.
He rides to the East, and he rides to the West,
Of his goodies he touches not one;
He eateth the crumbs of the Christmas feast
When the dear little folks are done.
Old Santa Claus doeth all that he can;
This beautiful mission is his;
Then, childeren, be good to the little old man,
When you find who the little man is.
A Christmas Verse
He had no royal palace,
Only a stable bare.
He had no watchful servants,
An ox and ass stood there.
But light shone forth from where He lay;
The King of Love upon the hay!
Christmas Night
Softly, softly, through the darkness
Snow is falling.
Sharply, sharply, in the meadows
Lambs are calling.
Coldly, coldly, all around me
Winds are blowing.
Brightly, brightly, up above me
Stars are glowing.
Christmas Eve
On Christmas Eve the little stars
Sparkle and glisten with delight,
Like strings of glitt’ring diamonds,
Across the darkness of the night.
On Christmas Eve the little stars
Dance in their places in the sky;
Ah! I would go and trip with them
If I could only climb as high.
On Christmas Eve the little stars
Sing merry carols all night long;
But O! I am so far away
I cannot even hear their song.
On Christmas Eve the little stars
Sparkle and dance, and sing till dawn;
And I am singing too, because
To-morrow will be Christmas Morn
.
Ten Little Christmas Trees
Ten little Christmas Trees a-growing in a line.
The first went ot Bedfordshire,
And that left only nine.
Nine little Christmas Trees all found it long to wait,
The second went to Monmouthshire,
And that left only eight.
Eight little Christmas Trees said: "Christmas will be
heaven."
The third went to London Town,
And that left seven.
Seven little Christmas Trees, and all as straight as sticks!
The fourth went to Oxfordshire
And that left only six.
Six little Christmas Trees, all growing alive!
The fifth went to Lancashire,
And that left only five.
Five little Christmas Trees said, "Will they want some
More?"
The sixth went to Devonshire,
And that left only four.
Four little Christmas trees, as sturdy as could be!
The seventh went to Scilly Isles,
And that left only two.
Three little Christmas Trees all grew and grew and grew,
The eight went to Middlesex,
And that left only two.
Two little Christmas Trees, Decenber almost done!
The ninth went to Timbuctoo,
And that left only one.
One little Christmas Tree, feeling very small!
She came to our school,
And that was best of all.
THE NEW YEAR
I am the little New Year, ho,ho!
Here I come tripping it over the snow.
Shaking my bells with a merry din-
So open your doors and let me in!
Presants I bring for each and all-
Big folks, little folks, short and tall;
Each one from me a treasure may win-
So open your doors and let me in!
Some shall have silver and some shall have gold,
Some shall have new clothes and some shall have old:
Some shall hav brass and some shall have tin-
So open your doors and let me in!
Some shall have water and some shall have milk,
Some shall have satin and some shall have silk!
But each from me present may win-
So open your doors and let me
in!
The night before Christmas
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! Now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On Cupid! On, Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"
