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Title: A Defective Santa Claus
Author: James Whitcomb Riley [
More Titles by Riley]
DEDICATION
To
HEWITT HANSON HOWLAND
WITH HALEST CHRISTMAS GREETINGS
AND FRATERNAL
Little Boy! Halloo!--halloo!
Can't you hear me calling you?--
Little Boy that used to be,
Come in here and play with me.
A Defective Santa Claus
Allus when our Pa he's away
Nen Uncle Sidney comes to stay
At our house here--so Ma an' me
An' Etty an' Lee-Bob won't be
Afeard ef anything at night
Might happen--like Ma says it might.
(Ef _Trip_ wuz _big_, I bet you he
'Uz best watch-dog you ever see!)
An' so last winter--ist before
It's go' be Chris'mus-Day,--w'y, shore
Enough, Pa had to haf to go
To 'tend a lawsuit--"An' the snow
Ist right fer Santy Claus!" Pa said,
As he clumb in old Ayersuz' sled,
An' said he's sorry _he_ can't be
With us that night--"'Cause," he-says-ee,
"Old Santy _might_ be comin' here--
This very night of all the year
_I'_ got to be away!--so all
You kids must tell him--ef he call--
He's mighty welcome, an' yer Pa
He left his love with you an' Ma
An' Uncle Sid!" An' clucked, an' leant
Back, laughin'--an' away they went!
An' Uncle wave' his hands an' yells
"Yer old horse ort to have on bells!"
But Pa yell back an' laugh an' say
"I 'spect when _Santy_ come this way
It's time enough fer sleighbells nen!"
An' holler back "Good-by!" again,
An' reach out with the driver's whip
An' cut behind an' drive back Trip.
An' so all day it snowed an' snowed!
An' Lee-Bob he ist watched the road,
In his high-chair; an' Etty she
U'd play with Uncle Sid an' me--
Like she wuz he'ppin' fetch in wood
An' keepin' old fire goin' good,
Where Ma she wuz a-cookin' there
An' kitchen, too, an' ever'where!
An' Uncle say, "'At's ist the way
Yer Ma's b'en workin', night an' day,
Sence she hain't big as Etty is
Er Lee-Bob in that chair o' his!"
Nen Ma she'd laugh 't what Uncle said,
An' smack an' smoove his old bald head
An' say "Clear out the way till I
Can keep that pot from b'ilin' dry!"
Nen Uncle, when she's gone back to
The kitchen, says, "We _ust_ to do
Some cookin' in the _ashes_.--_Say_,
S'posin' we try some, thataway!"
An' nen he send us to tell Ma
Send two big 'taters in he saw
Pa's b'en a-keepin' 'cause they got
The premiun at the Fair. An' what
You think?--He rake a grea'-big hole
In the hot ashes, an' he roll
Them old big 'taters in the place
An' rake the coals back--an' his face
Ist swettin' so's he purt'-nigh swear
'Cause it's so hot! An' when they're there
'Bout time 'at we fergit 'em, he
Ist rake 'em out again--an' _gee_!--
He bu'st 'em with his fist wite on
A' old stove-led, while Etty's gone
To git the salt, an' butter, too--
Ist like he said she haf to do,
No matter what _Ma_ say! An' so
He salt an' butter 'em, an' blow
'Em cool enough fer us to eat--
An' _me_-o-_my_! they're hard to beat!
An' Trip 'ud ist lay there an' pant
Like he'd laugh _out loud_, but he can't.
Nen Uncle fill his pipe--an' we
'Ud he'p him light it--Sis an' me,--
But mostly little Lee-Bob, 'cause
"He's the best _Lighter_ ever wuz!"
Like Uncle telled him wunst when Lee-
Bob cried an' jerked the light from me,
He wuz so mad! So Uncle pat
An' pet him. (Lee-Bob's ust to that--
'Cause he's the _little_-est, you know,
An' allus has b'en humored so!)
Nen Uncle gits the flat-arn out,
An', while he's tellin' us all 'bout
Old Chris'mus-times when _he's_ a kid,
He ist cracked hickernuts, he did,
Till they's a crockful, mighty nigh!
An' when they're all done by an' by,
He raked the red coals out again
An' telled me, "Fetch that popcorn in,
An' old three-leggud skillut--an'
The _led_ an' all now, little man,--
An' yer old Uncle here 'ull show
You how corn's popped, long years ago
When me an' Santy Claus wuz boys
On Pap's old place in Illinoise!--
An' your Pa, too, wuz chums, all through,
With Santy!--Wisht Pa'd be here, too!"
Nen Uncle sigh at Ma, an' she
Pat him again, an' say to me
An' Etty,--"You take warning fair!--
Don't talk too much, like Uncle there,
Ner don't fergit, like _him_, my dears,
That 'little pitchers has big ears!'"
But Uncle say to her, "Clear out!--
Yer brother knows what he's about.--
_You_ git your Chris'mus-cookin' done
Er these pore childern won't have none!"
Nen Trip wake up an' raise, an' nen
Turn roun' an' nen lay down again.
An' one time Uncle Sidney say,--
"When dogs is sleepin' thataway,
Like Trip, an' _whimpers_, it's a sign
He'll ketch _eight_ rabbits--mayby _nine_--
Afore his fleas'll wake him--nen
He'll bite hisse'f to sleep again
An _try_ to dream he's go' ketch _ten_."
An' when Ma's gone again back in
The kitchen, Uncle scratch his chin
An' say, "When Santy Claus an' Pa
An' me wuz little boys--an' Ma,
When she's 'bout big as Etty there;--
W'y,--'When we're _growed_--no matter _where_,'
Santy he cross' his heart an' say,--
'I'll come to see you, all, some day
When _you'_ got childerns--all but me
An' pore old Sid!'" Nen Uncle he
Ist kindo' shade his eyes an' pour'
'Bout forty-'leven bushels more
O' popcorn out the skillut there
In Ma's new basket on the chair.
An' nen he telled us--an' talk' low,
"So Ma can't hear," he say:--"You know
Yer _Pa_ know', when he drived away,
Tomorry's go' be Chris'mus-_Day_;--
Well, nen _tonight_," he whisper, "see?--
It's go' be Chris'mus-_Eve_," says-ee,
"An', like yer Pa hint, when he went,
Old Santy Claus (now hush!) he's sent
Yer Pa a postul-card, an' write
He's shorely go' be here tonight....
That's why yer Pa's so bored to be
_Away_ tonight, when Santy he
Is go' be here, sleighbells an' all,
To make you kids a Chris'mus-call!"
An' we're so glad to know _fer shore_
He's comin', I roll on the floor--
An' here come Trip a-waller'n' roun'
An' purt'-nigh knock the clo'eshorse down!--
An' Etty grab Lee-Bob an' prance
All roun' the room like it's a dance--
Till Ma she come an' march us nen
To dinner, where we're _still_ again,
But _tickled_ so we ist can't eat
But pie, an' ist the hot mincemeat
With raisins in.--But _Uncle_ et,
An' _Ma_. An' there they set an' set
Till purt'-nigh supper-time; nen we
Tell him he's got to fix the Tree
'Fore _Santy_ gits here, like he said.
We go nen to the old woodshed--
All bundled up, through the deep snow--
"An' snowin' yet, _jee-rooshy-O_!"
Uncle he said, an' he'p us wade
Back where's the Chris'mus-Tree he's made
Out of a little jackoak-top
He git down at the sawmill-shop--
An' Trip 'ud run ahead, you know,
An' 'tend-like he 'uz _eatin'_ snow--
When we all waddle back with it;
An' Uncle set it up--an' git
It wite in front the fireplace--'cause
He says "'Tain't _so_ 'at Santy Claus
Comes down _all_ chimblies,--least, tonight
He's comin' in _this_ house all right--
By the front-door, as ort to be!--
We'll all be hid where we can _see_!"
Nen he look up, an' he see Ma
An' say, "It's ist too bad their _Pa_
Can't be here, so's to see the fun
The childern _will_ have, ever' one!"
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
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!"
[The end]
James Whitcomb Riley's poem: A Defective Santa Claus
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