_Come thou, dear Prince, oh, come to us this holy Christmas time! Come
to the busy marts of earth, the quiet homes, the noisy streets, the
humble lanes; come to us all, and with thy love touch every human heart,
that we may know that love, and in its blessed peace bear charity to all
mankind!_
1886.
* * * * *
The Mouse and the Moonbeam.
THE MOUSE AND THE MOONBEAM.
Whilst you were sleeping, little Dear-my-Soul, strange things happened;
but that I saw and heard them, I should never have believed them. The
clock stood, of course, in the corner, a moonbeam floated idly on the
floor, and a little mauve mouse came from the hole in the chimney corner
and frisked and scampered in the light of the moonbeam upon the floor.
The little mauve mouse was particularly merry; sometimes she danced upon
two legs and sometimes upon four legs, but always very daintily and
always very merrily.
"Ah, me!" sighed the old clock, "how different mice are nowadays from
the mice we used to have in the good old times! Now there was your
grandma, Mistress Velvetpaw, and there was your grandpa, Master
Sniffwhisker,--how grave and dignified they were! Many a night have I
seen them dancing upon the carpet below me, but always the stately
minuet and never that crazy frisking which you are executing now, to my
surprise--yes, and to my horror, too."
"But why shouldn't I be merry?" asked the little mauve mouse. "To-morrow
is Christmas, and this is Christmas eve."
"So it is," said the old clock. "I had really forgotten all about it.
But, tell me, what is Christmas to you, little Miss Mauve Mouse?"
"A great deal to me!" cried the little mauve mouse. "I have been very
good a very long time: I have not used any bad words, nor have I gnawed
any holes, nor have I stolen any canary seed, nor have I worried my
mother by running behind the flour-barrel where that horrid trap is set.
In fact, I have been so good that I'm very sure Santa Claus will bring
me something very pretty."
This seemed to amuse the old clock mightily; in fact, the old clock fell
to laughing so heartily that in an unguarded moment she struck twelve
instead of ten, which was exceedingly careless and therefore to be
reprehended.
"Why, you silly little mauve mouse," said the old clock, "you don't
believe in Santa Claus, do you?"
"Of course I do," answered the little mauve mouse. "Believe in Santa
Claus? Why shouldn't I? Didn't Santa Claus bring me a beautiful
butter-cracker last Christmas, and a lovely gingersnap, and a
delicious rind of cheese, and--and--lots of things? I should be very
ungrateful if I did _not_ believe in Santa Claus, and I certainly
shall not disbelieve in him at the very moment when I am expecting him
to arrive with a bundle of goodies for me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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