Page:The Bab Ballads.djvu/156

 A hoary flowing wig his weird
 * Unearthly cranium caps,

He hangs a long benevolent beard
 * On a pair of empty chaps.

To smooth his ghastly features down
 * The actor's art he cribs,

A long and a flowing padded gown
 * Bedecks his rattling ribs.

He cries, "Go on—begin, begin,
 * Turn on the light of lime—

I'm dressed for jolly Old Christmas, in
 * A favourite pantomime!"

The curtain's up—the stage all black—
 * Time and the year nigh sped—

Time as an advertising quack—
 * The Old Year nearly dead.

The wand of Time is waved and lo,
 * Revealed Old Christmas stands,

And little children chuckle and crow,
 * And laugh and clap their hands.