You are here

قراءة كتاب A Defective Santa Claus

تنويه: تعرض هنا نبذة من اول ١٠ صفحات فقط من الكتاب الالكتروني، لقراءة الكتاب كاملا اضغط على الزر “اشتر الآن"

‏اللغة: English
A Defective Santa Claus

A Defective Santa Claus

تقييمك:
0
No votes yet
المؤلف:
دار النشر: Project Gutenberg
الصفحة رقم: 5

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

It'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!"


Pages