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!"