Page:In Other Words (1912).djvu/151

Christmas Cards

Being the songs of an old Scrooge

I. TO A JANITOR

Native of Sweden or Norway,
 Tyrant of terrible type,
Standing around in the doorway,
 Smoking a miserable pipe—

Thou who refusest to steam up,
 Thou who denyest me heat,
Thou who wilt not send my cream up,
 Thou who purloinest my meat—

Father of infants whose weeping
 All through the perilous night
Loudly inhibits my sleeping—
 Read, if thou canst, what I write:

Why, at this holiday season,
 Should I drop into the slot
Money? There isn’t a reason;
 Therefore, old chap, I shall not.