A Defective Santa Claus/II.
Well, we!—We hardly couldn't wait
Till it wuz dusk, an' dark an' late
Enough to light the lamp!—An' Lee-
Bob light a candle on the Tree—
"Ist one—'cause I'm 'The Lighter'!"—Nen
He clumb on Uncle's knee again
An' hug us bofe;—an' Etty git
Her little chist an' set on it
Wite clos't, while Uncle telled some more
'Bout Santy Claus, an' clo'es he wore
"All maked o' furs, an' trimmed as white
As cotton is, er snow at night!"
An' nen, all sudden-like, he say,—
"Hush! Listen there! Hain't that a sleigh
An' sleighbells jinglin'?" Trip go "whooh!"
Like he hear bells an' smell 'em, too.
Nen we all listen.... An'-sir, shore
Enough, we hear bells—more an' more
A-jinglin' clos'ter—clos'ter still
Down the old crook-road roun' the hill.
An' Uncle he jumps up, an' all
The chairs he jerks back by the wall
An' th'ows a' overcoat an' pair
O' winder-curtains over there
An' says, "Hide quick, er you're too late!—
Them bells is stoppin' at the gate!—
Git back o' them-'air chairs an' hide,
'Cause I hear Santy's voice outside!"
An' Bang! bang! bang! we heerd the door—
Nen it flewed open, an' the floor
Blowed full o' snow—that's first we saw,
Till little Lee-Bob shriek' at Ma
"There's Santy Claus!—I know him by
His big white mufftash!"—an' ist cry
An' laugh an' squeal an' dance an' yell—
Till, when he quiet down a spell,
Old Santy bow an' th'ow a kiss
To him—an' one to me an' Sis—
An' nen go clos't to Ma an' stoop
An' kiss her—An' nen give a whoop
That fainted her!—'Cause when he bent
An' kiss her, he ist backed an' went
Wite 'ginst the Chris'mus-Tree ist where
The candle's at Lee-Bob lit there!—
An' set his white-fur belt afire—
An' blaze streaked roun' his waist an' higher
Wite up his old white beard an' th'oat!—
Nen Uncle grabs th' old overcoat
An' flops it over Santy's head,
An' swing the door wide back an' said,
"Come out, old man!—an' quick about
It!—I've ist got to put you out!"
An' out he sprawled him in the snow—
"Now roll!" he says—"Hi-roll-ee-O!"—
An' Santy, sputter'n' "Ouch! Gee-whiz!"
Ist roll an' roll fer all they is!
An' Trip he's out there, too,—I know,
'Cause I could hear him yappin' so—
An' I heerd Santy, wunst er twic't,
Say, as he's rollin', "Drat the fice't!"
Nen Uncle come back in, an' shake
Ma up, an' say, "Fer mercy-sake!—
He hain't hurt none!" An' nen he said,—
"You youngsters h'ist up-stairs to bed!—
Here! kiss yer Ma 'Good-night,' an' me,—
We'll he'p old Santy fix the Tree—
An' all yer whistles, horns an' drums
I'll he'p you toot when morning comes!"
It's long while 'fore we go to sleep,—
'Cause down-stairs, all-time somepin' keep
A-kindo' scufflin' roun' the floors—
An' openin' doors, an' shettin' doors—
An' could hear Trip a-whinin', too,
Like he don't know ist what to do—
An' tongs a-clankin' down k'thump!—
Nen some one squonkin' the old pump—
An' Wooh! how cold it soun' out there!
I could ist see the pump-spout where
t's got ice chin-whiskers all wet
An' drippy—An' I see it yet!
An' nen, seem-like, I hear some mens
A-talkin' out there by the fence,
An' one says, "Oh, 'bout twelve o'clock!"
"Nen," 'nother'n says, "Here's to you, Doc!—
God bless us ever' one!" An' nen
I heerd the old pump squonk again.
An' nen I say my prayer all through
Like Uncle Sidney learn' me to,—
"O Father mine, e'en as Thine own,
This child looks up to Thee alone:
Asleep or waking, give him still
His Elder Brother's wish and will."
An' that's the last I know.... Till Ma
She's callin' us—an' so is Pa,—
He holler "Chris'mus-gif'!" an' say,—
"I'm got back home fer Chris'mus-Day!—
An' Uncle Sid's here, too—an' he
Is nibblin' 'roun' yer Chris'mus-Tree!"
Nen Uncle holler, "I suppose
Yer Pa's so proud he's froze his nose
He wants to turn it up at us,
'Cause Santy kick' up such a fuss—
Tetchin' hisse'f off same as ef
He wuz his own fireworks hisse'f!"
An' when we're down-stairs,—shore enough,
Pa's nose is froze an' salve an' stuff
All on it—an' one hand's froze, too,
An' got a old yarn red-and-blue
Mitt on it—"An' he's froze some more
Acrost his chist, an' kindo' sore
All roun' his dy-fram," Uncle say.—
"But Pa he'd ort a-seen the way
Santy bear up last night when that-
Air fire break out, an' quicker'n scat
He's all a-blazin', an' them-'air
Gun-cotton whiskers that he wear
Ist flashin'!—till I burn a hole
In the snow with him, and he roll
The front-yard dry as Chris'mus jokes
Old parents plays on little folks!
But, long's a smell o' tow er wool,
I kep' him rollin' beautiful!—
Till I wuz shore I shorely see
He's squenched! W'y, hadn't b'en fer me,
That old man might a-burnt clear down
Clean—plum'—level with the groun'!"
Nen Ma say, "There, Sid; that'll do!—
Breakfast is ready—Chris'mus, too.—
Your voice 'ud soun' best, sayin' Grace—
Say it." An' Uncle bow' his face
An' say so long a Blessing nen,
Trip bark' two times 'fore it's "A-men!"
