tag="{http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml}img"/>

Then what do you think? For a cockshot

They take him; they pelt him and hit;

They knock of the snowman's ears and nose,

But he does not mind it a bit.

Hurrah! for the good thick ice.

Oh! isn't it jolly? They slide,

They skate, and in sleighs so fine they go,

And swift as the wind they glide.

King Winter laughs at the sport,

Cries "Bravo!" and claps his hands,

And calling in haste for his man, Jack Frost,

He gives him these commands:

"Go see the papas and mammas,

And bring me word what they say:

Have the children been good and well behaved,

Since last I came this way?"

The King trims Christmas trees,

To give to good girls and boys,

With tapers and trinkets of silver and gold,

And all sorts of dainties and toys.

The Queen cuts twigs of birch,

Of birch so supple and keen,

And daintily ties them up into rods

The finest that ever were seen.

Soon with this word to the King

Jack Frost comes back at a trot:

"Good have most of the children been,

But some of them have not."

The King gives him the pretty trees,

The Queen the rods so smart,

And away goes Jack again with his load,

Till every house has its part.

Cakes, mince-pies nuts and apples,

Good children get from the King.

You can guess what the naughty get,

The rods are the only thing.

"Oh dear mamma," cries Jenny,

"Johnny's been good, and so have I!

Pray tell Jack Frost we don't want the rod,

Oh! do ask him to put it by."