Part 3
But, like our good gift giver, his beard is long and white, And he wears a coat of furs and many colors bright. But instead of bringing goodies to good girls and to boys, Nice new clothes and books and games and lots of wondrous toys,
He expects that all big folks and also little ones Should leave his favorite dishes, such as puddings, cakes and buns, Outside of every doorway so that he may eat at will Of these luscious dainties until he has had his fill. Then after eating all the cakes his "tummy-tum" can hold, He milks the cows and splits the wood (at least, so I've been told), But never thinks to bring nice gifts to little girls and boys Whose parents have to trim their trees and buy them all their toys.
Besides, this naughty NISSEN is cross at times and bad, And does all sorts of horrid tricks which I think very sad At Christmas when we all should be so kind to one another, And treat each person whom we meet as if he were our brother.
But NISSEN steals away the cows and even horses fleet, From all the people who forget to bake him puddings sweet; And if above a whisper one should dare to speak or sing About this cranky fellow, then this evil he will bring
Upon the one who dared to throw his name upon the breeze, As from that time the guilty one must sneeze and sneeze and sneeze.
Now in our land we sing loud praise of Santa all the time, And tell about his goodness great, in prose and jingling rhyme; And yet it seems the more we sing about the jolly elf, The more he brings each year to us upon the mantel shelf.
But children in far Norway are better girls and boys Than we who live in this fair land and think so much of toys That we forget about the pets while feeding our own selves Like thoughtless, greedy little pigs or naughty selfish elves.
While Norway children in the fall they work to gather corn And save it for the birds they feed on every Christmas morn; So we should follow in their steps and feed the wee birds crumbs Before we start to feast ourselves on Christmas sugar plums.
A CHRISTMAS WISH FOR ALL MY FRIENDS
While Christmas bells are chiming, oh, may there come to you A dear sweet little fairy, who's always good and true; The little happy fairy, who drives away dull care, And makes all things upon the earth seem ever bright and fair.
She'll whisper to good Santa to bring what you most wish; So if you have been longing for a fine pudding dish, She will not, as in by-gone years, forget and bring to you Something that you do not want, though beautiful and new.
SANTA'S REINDEER IN THE SKY
Long, long ago before this earth had any girls and boys To hang their stockings on the shelf expecting Christmas toys, Good Santa was a big white cloud that floated in the sky; If you had lived in those old days, you'd seen him floating by.
But when the children came to rule upon good Mother Earth, She took kind Santa from the sky and made him God of Mirth; To bring at every Christmas time good gifts to girls and boys And make them all so happy with a lot of lovely toys.
Far, far among the icebergs, in the cold and freezing zone, She built for him a palace, where he lives almost alone, With only good old Mrs. Claus to keep him company, And sometimes Cousin Nicholas for two days or for three. Wise Mother Earth she knew this clime would suit good Santa well, For here no foolish, idle folks would ever come to dwell; Nor pay the good Saint visits which would waste his precious time, While he could work much faster here than in a warmer clime.
But never did he suffer from the icebergs at the Pole, As fairies kept his fireplace all full of red-hot coal; Or heaped bright burning logs on it as full as it could hold, So Santa never felt a tweak of Jack Frost's biting cold.
Likewise the fairies brought to him and his most faithful spouse, Just everything that they could need to keep a cozy house. And even cooked their victuals and brought them every day Exactly at the proper time, upon a huge hot tray.
And after they had eaten all the dainties on the tray, The good kind fairies quickly came and took the tray away; So Mrs. Claus had no excuse for being cross or sad, Since no experience she had had with Bridgets getting mad.
When Santa finished all his toys, he put them in a sack, Where he intended carrying them just like a pedler's pack, But Mother Earth surprised the Saint and to his palace led Eight lovely prancing reindeer and a large commodious sled.
These reindeer were the cousins of swift Pegasus, the steed Who helped the hero Perseus when he was in great need; And, like the flying hero horse, they lived up in the sky, Till Mother Earth had need of them to help old Santa fly.
And so on every Christmas eve for full ten hundred years, Good Santa and his reindeer fleet have banished children's tears By bringing them most all the gifts their little hearts could wish, And filling stockings, shoes and plates, and even puddin dish.
But when last Christmas came around, good Mother Earth, she said, "Dear Santa, I have something fine for you to use instead Of your good, faithful reindeer and your big old-fashioned sled, For here's a lovely aeroplane, all painted shining red."
The wise old lady then declared that he could safely fly With this machine most anywhere away up in the sky, And travel far, far faster than the reindeer who were fleet But stumbled sometimes on the roofs made slippery with sleet.
The aeroplane could carry well a larger load of toys, So he could visit more good girls and also little boys, Who live in far off heathen lands where everyone's a sinner, But that's no reason each should do without a Christmas dinner. With this machine he'd save some time to look out for each pet Of all the little girls and boys, as they so oft forget To treat their pets most kindly upon the Christmas morn In memory of the Saviour who on this day was born.
And likewise all the horses, the cows and pigs and sheep, For men so seldom think of them when Christmas time they keep; And even wild, fierce animals, and fishes in the sea, Should all be made quite happy at Christmas time to be.
"I do not like this plan at all of giving up my sled And my good faithful reindeer," so good old Santa said. But Mother Earth she laughed at him and said she would repay The reindeer, whom she would send home straight to the Milky Way.
But Santa was old-fashioned and had great fears to fly Without his sled and reindeer, he'd used in years gone by, And begged that on his maiden trip these true old friends to take To help him should the aeroplane prove but a wicked fake. The laughing Earth then granted him this very small request, And early on glad Christmas eve (the eve of all most blest) He started forth upon his trip, did good old Santa dear, Guiding his Wright aeroplane with feelings of great fear.
But Mother Earth showed she was wise and knew just what was best To help the good old tired saint while on his children quest; And fast the good Wright aeroplane it flew both low and high, So Santa took the Earth's advice, and though he heaved a sigh,
He dropped the poor old worn-out sled as he was passing by, And people said, who saw it fall, "A meteor from the sky!" Then, kissing each good reindeer, he bade them all farewell, And left them in the Milky Way, forever there to dwell. And you, my little playmates, who have heard the tiny hoofs Of the wondrous flying steeds pattering on the roofs, If you would like to catch a glimpse of Santa's good reindeer, Then wait until it's dark some night, and when the sky is clear, You'll see them very plainly in the broad light Milky Way, And there, for all the time to come, these steeds will romp and play.
ALL DENTISTS GO TO HEAVEN
I don't like dentists, because they hurt me With horrid bad pinchers as sharp as can be. They pick at my teeth and scratch in my head Until I begin to wish I were dead. But I read in the paper (so I suppose it's so) That all of the dentists to Heaven will go, Because they are needed away up there To make gold crowns for the angels fair.
MABEL AT THE BUTCHER SHOP
When Mabel went with Mother To buy some chops for tea, She gazed in awestruck horror At sawdust she could see, Sprinkled over all the floor, To north, south, east and west, And as wee Mabel saw it Her heart was sore oppressed.
She hated all the butchers And yearned to be at home, Where she could guard her dolly And teach her not to roam Afar to shops of butchers, As now wee Mabel knew That butchers hurt poor dollies And stab them through and through, So all their nice warm stuffings Would flow from every pore And cover well with sawdust The butcher's dirty floor.
THANKSGIVING IN 20,000 A. D.
"Oh, how the ways have changed with men Since the good days of nineteen ten, When I was living on the earth And joining in Thanksgiving mirth!" A nineteen hundred spirit cried As many people he espied While gazing on old Mother Earth Years twenty thousand since her birth.
Long, long ago, as poets say, For good Thanksgiving holiday A feast was spread of nice mince pies. Of turkeys of tremendous size, Cranberry sauce, and giblet stew, Potatoes, corn and ice cream, too, With salads, raisins, nuts and cake, And all the pastry "Ma" could bake.
These days, alas! they don't believe That any stomach should receive A mixture of such tasty things, And as folks float upon their wings They take some predigested pills, Which, so they say, keep off all ills.
And now on good Thanksgiving Day There is no feasting, as folks say-- "We wish to live for many years, And of all eating we have fears. The doctors say corn's full of worms Known as pellagra's awful germs, That turkeys cause appendicitis, Scarlet fever, stomachtitis; That products of the frying pan Cause great distress to every man; That puddings bring us naught but woe, And therefore we should let them go.
We ne'er will sit around a table And eat as long as we are able, Then put it in the daily paper That Mrs. X. cut such a caper As to invite fair Madame P. To dine with her or drink some tea. 'Tis vulgar, common, so we think, To go about and eat and drink, While people watch us taking food Which we consider very rude; So to dark closets we retire When NATURE calls for more food-fire, And there on this Thanksgiving Day We all will go, though not to pray, But predigested powders take Instead of turkey, pie and cake."
ON THANKSGIVING
Before you eat good turkey, rich mince and pumpkin pies On that great feast of feast days when "tum-tums" grow in size, The good old day THANKSGIVING, the best day in the year, When all should be so thankful around the board of cheer. Then don't forget the poor ones, the hungry, cold and sad, Go fill their empty tables and make the whole world glad
THE PETS' CHRISTMAS CAROL
"Tweet--tweet--tweet!" sang the canary, Which meant that he was very merry, Because his little mistress, Nell, On Christmas eve had fed him well.
"Bow--wow--wow!" sang the gay young pup, "My master's gone away to sup, But though he won't be here for tea, Just see the meal he left for me!"
"Mew--mew--mew!" sang the mama cat, "Such milk as this will make me fat, And, oh, I feel so very gay This cold and frosty Christmas day."
Each mama cow sang "Moo--moo--moo!" And gentle dove sang--"Coo--coo--coo." And every horse and sheep and pig, And duck and chicken, small and big, A carol sang on Christmas eve, Because a feast each did receive.
ONLY NAUGHTY CHILDREN SEE "SPOOKS" ON HALLOWE'EN
Witches and goblins, spooks and elves, With sprites and gnomes from elf-land delves, To-night are flying here and there, Yes, up and down and everywhere. For this one night in all the year They rule the earth and bring great fear To all the naughty little boys Who tease good girls and break their toys.
These spooks they also make girls sad When they are selfish, cross and bad; So when it's dark, bad boys and maids. They see these awful fearsome shades, And that is why with covered heads, They trembling lie in their warm beds.
But even there they goblins see, Spooks and gnomes, and all that be Abroad upon weird Hallowe'en When all the wizards may be seen By naughty kids and grown-up folks Who like to play most wicked jokes. But good young girls and gentle boys, The kids who are their mothers' joys, They like the dark just as the light, For spooks ne'er come within their sight, And in their dreams the lovely elves Show them bright scenes from fairy delves.
So, if to-night you are afraid Of any spook or any shade, Well know you are a naughty child, So cross and wilful, rude and wild.
MY EASTER WISH
May flowers of JOY At EASTER bloom Within your heart, Where weeds of gloom Will fail to find A place to grow While JOY remains As gloom-weeds' foe.
A WHINGWANG SONNET OF AN EASTER BONNET
Once there was a little girl, But she didn't have a curl, Though she had an Easter bonnet With ostrich plumes and flowers on it, Since like her mother she aspired À la mode to be attired.
But when she rose on Easter morn With deepest grief her heart was torn, For, oh, alas! the rain was falling In torrents great; to her appalling, As well she knew 'twould spoil her bonnet With ostrich plumes and flowers on it.
Her hair in papers she had worn The whole night through and tortures borne In hopes to have a curl or two To wear beneath her bonnet new. But now, alas, the horrid rain Would make her hair all straight again.
And so with fear of straightened hair, Which might cause folks to laugh and stare, And likewise to protect her bonnet With ostrich plumes and flowers on it, She thought it best to stay away From Sabbath school on Easter day.
MIDSUMMER JOYS
Give me the joys of summer, Of SUMMER QUEEN so fair, With wealth of lovely flowers And fruits and sun-kissed air!
Talk not to me of winter With ice and frost and snow, Nor changing spring and autumn When howling winds will blow.
No, I will take the joys Of SUMMER every time, So to this Queen of Seasons I dedicate my rhyme.
AFTER THE FOURTH WAS OVER
After the Fourth was over, after the play was done, Poor little John and Willie forgot that they'd had some fun; John, with his eyes all bandaged, Willie with one eye gone, Had changed from joyous boys, who rose with the FOURTH'S bright dawn, Determined to shoot great cannons and frighten some silly girls, To tie big crackers to dogs' tails, and make the pin wheels whirl.
Tommy with one hand bound up and with a bepowdered face, Alex with two burned fingers and bones nearly all out of place; Edgar with one leg broken and poor little Peter with two, Thought that they'd had enough sorrow to last them a whole life through, But Mother, who heard them crying, while soothing her darlings to sleep, Was thankful that some of the pieces she yet was able to keep, And sad for the weeping mother of poor naughty, unlucky Jim, As the booming JULY CELEBRATION blew the whole head off of him.
TO MY VALENTINE
I love you now, and come what may, I'll always love you night and day. E'en should you grow both poor and old And so unhappy that you'd scold; My love for you would ne'er grow cold, Because I truly love you.
If evil spirits come your way And tempt you from straight paths to stray, And every so-called loving friend No helping hand to you would lend, To me, dear friend, for help then send, Because I truly love you.
THE WONDERLAND OF MATEMATIKO
[Written for my teacher, Professor A. R. Hornbrook, of the San Jose Normal School.]
In MATEMATIKO, the wonderful land, Ruled over by Giants, a most worthy band; Where all live together in kindness and peace While helping Earth's mortals whose works never cease. And also I think that a strong helping hand Is tendered Mars' children by this goodly band.
But if from these GIANTS their help we would seek We should be very patient and humble and meek, And go to their lands over roads smoothed in part By labors of numerous foregoers' art. Then back to the Daily-Life-Store-House to stay, Bring all goodly treasures we found on our way.
The first province reached when we go to this land Is ruled by ARITHMOS with firm kindly hand. His regions are traveled by all little ones When counting their candies or apples or buns; Or when Baby's mother cuts apples in two And gives him "one-half" and one-half to Sue, His sister, who travels each day in the week In realms of ARITHMOS for knowledge to seek.
The lands of ARITHMOS then being explored And the wealth thereby gained being carefully stored, Wise travelers go on following many a band Of Pilgrims for Knowledge now seeking the land Where if they search earnestly surely they'll find TRUTHS known by QUEEN ALGEBRA, gracious and kind, Whose roads are far shorter than Arithmos King owns And freer from troublesome MAD-HASTY-STONES That fall from MT. ERROR right down on our path And so often cause us to court DEMON WRATH.
When first viewing GUIDE-BOOKS of ALGEBRA-LAND, New travelers fear that they can't understand The queer little figures and x, y's and z's Mixed up with the numbers and a, b, c, d's. But after becoming acquainted with these Good Algebra-Helpers who help and who please, All seekers for knowledge most gladly resolve To use these assistants their problems to solve.
Not far from Queen Algebra's realms may be found King GEOMETRÍO'S rich lands, which abound With REASON'S clear rivers that flow everywhere, While watering the EARTH and while cooling the air. There are many high mountains where travelers will fall Who heed not the warning that's given to all By GEOMETRÍO, the giant benign, Who near to the rugged cliffs puts up this sign-- "To all who are traveling--BEHOLD! now, TAKE HEED! If walking, go slowly, be fearful of speed. Be sure to inquire at my palace door For smooth winding pathways trod often before; But if you would ride in haste to the top Then take my good auto which never will stop. There's none like INTENSE CONCENTRATION, my car Which carries you safely sans skidding or jar." To travelers obeying this Giant's advice, No "Haste-Wasting-Goblins" will ever entice To climb ERROR'S MOUNTAIN from which they may fall To SLOUGH of DESPOND that is dreaded by all; Or maybe be led by VAIN CONFIDENCE ELVES Through seeming short byways and flowery delves To dread DOUBTING CASTLE where cruellest of fates Through GIANT DESPAIR the traveler awaits.
In GEOMETRÍO'S most wondrous GUIDE-BOOKS At first one is puzzled if he only looks At Guides of this Giant who many forms wear, Some angular figures and others quite square; Some round like a bullet or like cubes or cones, But each of these figures some great power owns. And Geometrío will tell all who ask How each may be used for a wonderful task-- As making dress patterns for ladies so fair; Or likewise for ribbons to bind up their hair; We meet them each day in the rugs at our feet, And on the stone carvings we see in the street, Are subjects of GEOMETRÍO'S wise land, For their useful service we mortals demand.
Near Geometrío's broad regions there lies The spacious rich country of GOOD GIANT WISE, Broad-minded, and powerful builder and king, TRIGONOMETRIO'S loud praises we sing. From his brother "GEO" materials he takes From which with his help frail mortal man makes Tall wonderful buildings which, reaching so high, We call them "sky-scrapers" as touching the sky. He also builds churches, cathedrals and schools, And beautiful mansions are formed by his rules, Through knowledge man found in this great Giant's home He has built wondrous spires and many a dome, And bridges o'er rivers, and tunnels through rocks, And e'en chained the waters with wonderful locks.
And now with his help a marvelous feat Of great engineering will soon be complete In building at Panama as you all know, A wondrous canal by which we may go From Father Atlantic to Pacific's sands Without traveling over Mother Earth's lands. Near ALGEBRA-LAND a great GIANT lives And to earnest students much knowledge he gives, 'Tis good KALKULUSO, abstruse thinking King, To him all astronomers loud praises sing, For only through his aid they go to the fount Of cause and effect that will teach them to count The days that will pass before all men may see A coming eclipse on the great STELLAR SEA, Or comets, or new stars, or maybe new worlds, To true knowledge seekers this Giant unfurls Wide forecasting standards as things are to be In days yet to come upon both land and sea, And ever this Giant-Wise carries in hand The banner of TRUTH which he floats o'er his land.
Now, some people say that the great GIANTS' lands In MATEMATIKO are mere barren sands Where all travelers find it so hard to advance, But we who have had even this little glance At these wondrous regions described by the pen Of "INSTRUISTINO"[A] will go there again. She gives us to guide us a good fairy's wand Through MATEMATIKO to bright realms beyond. This wand helps us journey so that we may see Each road and each crossing and always may be On straightest of pathways, the PERFECT TRUTH'S WAY, From which glorious highway we never must stray, For TRUTH leads to GOD in His bright realms above, Surrounded by light of the INFINITE LOVE.
[Footnote A: My teacher in mathematics, Mrs. A. R. Hornbrook.]
EASTER GREETING
May EASTER RABBIT in your heart's nest Lay the golden egg upon whose quest All knights and ladies plain and fair, Are seeking, seeking everywhere.
The longed-for GOLDEN EGG of PEACE, Which makes all earthly woes to cease By filling hearts with LOVE FOR OTHERS, So self's forgot as we help our brothers.
A SKILLET IN SOCIETY (ALIAS A CHAFING DISH)
I heard my mother, just to-day, asking dear old dad To buy her a nice chafing dish, and make her very glad; Though he declared its cooking was a waste of alcohol. Causing indigestion and perhaps a doctor's call. I never saw a chafing dish and so I longed to know How it looked and what 'twas for, and so and so and so; But Mother would not answer and Daddy went away. So I sought the kitchen, where Bridget holds her sway, And asked her if she ever saw, since she began to cook, A chafing dish on pantry shelf or pictured in a book? Then Bridget turned her pug nose up with a "contemshus" air, And gave a twist to her small knot of brick-dust colored hair, And said, "A chafing dish, my dear, so says Miss B. Moriety, Is but a common skillet pan that's got in High Society."
THE GIANT ARITHMOS