In times when the country was better to do And magnificence great, With choristers fifty, and chaplains twice eight, But now when by Moore's, or some other such work, it Thinking p'rhaps 'twould be hard to get prog in his progress, St. Nicholas, ere on his way he did jog, res- Those same cata-pillars, as 'twere, of the Intending to leave, for this once, in the lurch, On account of the general scarceness of grubs.. So accordingly he'd to explain to his retinue"Children, the trouble you'd give me in gettin' you Food to your mind, Makes me leave you behind. Though it causes me sorrow, I vow, as a sinner, Took his pastoral staff and his gingham umbreller, There was not much of it! Ilis portable property was, you'll admit, Than "Somebody's Luggage" consid'rably lighter. I need not describe How tribe after tribe, In all parts of the see did his learning imbibe; And unfrocked several parsons, because Mrs. Declared they were seen at a cockfight on Sunday. That his reverence, he Had seen-to whate'er he'd to see-to, per see. To be six minutes late for the five o'clock train, There was no other choice but to take the nightmail. So when he reached Myra the hour was so late He declined to get down at his own palace gate, Declaring of right he should not feel observant, If-though himself tired—he should knock up a ser vant. And having said thus, Directed the 'bus To take him to some decent inn without fuss. A plethora likewise the Bell and the Dragon ails, 'Mong topers devoted, For its "8 as, per sextary, in your own flagon" ales. He of sleep would procure (For already 'twas long past the night's dreary middle) a wink He put up at—and had to put up with—a “ Kiddlea-wink." The host was a bad man- a sad evil-doer, Of infants a butcher, of mischief a brewer. Just after their hearts, And all manner of goodies and sweetstuff had stood for 'em, Until they'd all eaten much more than was good for 'em, And then suddenly vowed, as if shocked at the rigs of 'em; They'd made pigs of themselves, and so he would make pigs of 'em. He smothered them first with some pillows and towels, And when they were mutes, why, he cut out their— vowels, By which I mean eyes" Put their flippers in pies, Which was wrong :—though if I don't my classics forget, The Latin for 'and is most frequently et. Well, when he these steps with his victims had taken, St. Nicholas just was beginning to dose, And indulge in the sounds that are signs of repose (I speak of those nasal ones every one knows), When morsels a score Come in at the door, And ranged themselves all round his bed, on the floor. 'Twas the children, young pickles, late slain by the host, Who quietly shirkin' Their bed in the firkin, With vinegar's spectre-and Pepper's famed ghost, Soon as St. Nicholas Seemed to be sleeping as sound as a post :- They went piecemeal upstairs, (For not finding the pies, that they, wanting their 'ands, Could not manage conjunctions, one well understands,) Three lads in a tub, Chopt-up, and pickled, and made into grub !" Just imagine the fright, As he jumped bolt-upright, Of St. Nicholas seeing that very strange sight; With life, and kootooed, As much as to say "Although raw, we're not rude!" "Twould have frightened most people, I think, into fits, To have seen such an instance of "livers--and bits." Then a piece on the boards (Like those one awards The title "sensation") solution affords, That his guests needing grubs Might in parts take us in, just as if we were serials. What right, St. Nicholas, Had he to pickle us? Answer that question, most learned of clerks!" I really don't see, I protest, what this wicked host's purpose can be:- He intended you well-drest young scholars for Eton. However it seems, my young friends, bless your hearts, You are very well able to take your own parts. To be useful to you! Why not stop in your barrel, so cosy and roomy?" Whereupon all the bits replied gloomily, “Glue me!" "Bless me, yes—glue!" Said the bishop, "Quite true : I'can easily manage that matter for you; Only when it's applied to each edge, joint, and suture, Are you satisfied? There!" With that to his mitre his reverence went, And fetched out a bottle of Diamond Cement, And ere long had contrived to frame three chopping boys, Out of what seemed but stuffing for fine saveloys. As soon as 'twas day, The bishop and they Rang the bell for the landlord, and ordered a shay :— When he came in and found that his victims were living; For assaulting, and salting alike, begged forgiving, |