Nothin’ Like Christmas for Drawin’ Home the Folks

— —— Nothin' Like Christmas for Drawin' Home the Folks When the snow's whirlin' 'bout yer head, ye hear the sleigh bells ring; An' the gobbler ruffles up his back an' stalks 'round like a king; An' the hired man asks sheepishdike if he kin git away — To spend the Christmas with his ma his gal, he'd better say; An' the letters come a sailin' in, all full of cheery jokes Well, it's pretty nigh the Christmastide which brings home all the folks. When Christmastide comes rollin' in, it brings my married sons. There's young Sam, an' Bill, an' John, an' Jed, their wives and little ones. Yes, an' then my married daughter comes: "Jen an' her three," we say; — We don't darst to mention Jonathan her husban' passed away For Jen's heart is always achin' 'bout those happy bygone years, An' her eyes is always ready jest to overflow with tears; Her three girls are reg'lar beauties, an' they comfort her a lot, But it seems that time nor prayer nor love can heal that tender spot. So, when Christmas brings the fam'ly home, we all make it a point Jest to drop some ray of sunshine in this life, so out of joint. An', at last, young Jim, our college boy, comes home with shiny looks, With his hair combed high, new-fangled tie, an' pow'rful lot of books. Though he does 'pear sort of freakishdike, the same good heart's inside; An' his ma an' me has often had good cause to swell with pride At the feats he's done in college, where his enemy he "soaks;" Oh! there's nothin' like the Christmastide for drawin' home the folks. On a Christmas eve the family lolls around the sittin' room; An' the sputt'rin' fire leaps up in tongues an' makes the shadows loom To the ceilin' high, in spiritual shapes. The children by the fire, In their mischief way, jump 'round like apes to make the shadows higher. An' the parents, settin' leisurely in circles round the room, Sort o' chuckle, while the dancing flames make all their faces bloom. But when things calm down, the children bring the two big rocking chairs, An' they make grave little bows and say, "There's but one couple dares To surmount this throne held sixty years:" then dart for ma an' me, An' they set us in that central spot and shout: "Our royalty!" All the mothers hand their little ones to sit on grandpa's knee. As the infant coos in innocence, I think of its life to be: Of Time's hand, one span, and then a man with babes that clutch his hair; In one brief span more, the babes are gone; the nest seems then so bare. Yes, the old nest seems forsaken when young mate, and take on care. But a truth there is that lights the way for the old and lonely pair, An' that truth's as grand and stalwart as the strong and sturdy oaks: There will always be a Christmastide to bring home all the folks. Bunkerville, Nevada Mrs. Annie WHafen .