Then, as by some sudden impulse,
Quickly ran he to the fire,
And while eagerly his bright eyes
Watched the flames grow higher and higher,
In a brave, clear key, he shouted,
Like some lordly little elf,
"Santa Kaus, come down the chimney,
Make my Mudder 'have herself."
"I will be a good girl, Bennie,"
Said I, feeling the reproof;
And straightway recalled poor Harney,
Mewing on the gallery roof.
Soon the anger was forgotten,
Laughter chased away the frown,
And they gamboled round the fireside,
Till the dusky night came down.
In my dim, fire-lighted chamber,
Harney purred beneath my chair,
And my playworn boy beside me
Knelt to say his evening prayer;
"God bess Fader, God bess Moder,
God bess Sister," then a pause,
And the sweet young lips devoutly
Murmured, "God bess Santa Kaus."
He is sleeping; brown and silken
Lie the lashes, long and meek,
Like caressing, clinging shadows,
On his plump and peachy cheek,
And I bend above him, weeping
Thankful tears, O defiled!
For a woman's crown of glory,
For the blessing of a child.
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