These are the signs by which we count
Its steps—
This month, through which with bated breath,
Cupid with Hymen slowly walks
And leaves so many love-hushed hearts—
So many pickle forks!
Its steps—
This month, through which with bated breath,
Cupid with Hymen slowly walks
And leaves so many love-hushed hearts—
So many pickle forks!
EVOLUTION OF THE STOCKING
TIME was when the Christmas stocking
Was knit from the homespun yarn,
With here and there a picked-up stitch,
And here and there a darn.
And the things that went in the stocking
In that beautiful long-age
Were mother's cookies and doughnuts—
And a dime far down in the toe!
Was knit from the homespun yarn,
With here and there a picked-up stitch,
And here and there a darn.
And the things that went in the stocking
In that beautiful long-age
Were mother's cookies and doughnuts—
And a dime far down in the toe!
In time the stocking was cotton
Straight from the factory's loom,
And 'twas long and lank and hungry
As it hung in the Christmas gloom.
But Santa plumped it with presents,
Coming far from the land of snow,
Store candy and wonderful goodies—
And a quarter down in the toe!
Straight from the factory's loom,
And 'twas long and lank and hungry
As it hung in the Christmas gloom.
But Santa plumped it with presents,
Coming far from the land of snow,
Store candy and wonderful goodies—
And a quarter down in the toe!
But now the stocking is silken,
Flimsy and soft and svelt,
Too dainty for clumsy gew-gaws
Or home-made compliment.
Flimsy and soft and svelt,
Too dainty for clumsy gew-gaws
Or home-made compliment.
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