Reminiscences of a Raconteur, Between the '40s and the '20sHam, George H. (George Henry)
History
Reminiscences of a Raconteur, Between the '40s and the '20s
Ham, George H. (George Henry)
Canada; Ham, George H. (George Henry), 1847-1926; Journalists -- Canada -- Biography
“Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep,
If I should die before I wake,
I Pray the Lord, my soul to take.”
A crime——it is diabolically fiendish!
Pawn All But Christmas Stockings.
One time, over in London, England, I met Rev. Mr. Webb and his charming
wife, who had lived in Canada, and who were willing and energetic
workers amongst the poor of London’s awful slums. Do you know what a
wretched life these poor folk have? It would horrify you if you saw
their misery and poverty and wretchedness. Mrs. Webb told me that in all
her wide experience there was nothing you could give them that was
pawnable that they wouldn’t pawn for liquor—except—except the
Christmas stockings filled with sweets and toys for the children. These
were sacred even to these hardened sinners. Then why should the
illusions of these poor unfortunate kids be ruthlessly destroyed? Why
not let them, in their dire poverty and distress, have one little ray of
sunshine in their belief in the existence of Santa Claus?
* * * * *
The day before one Christmas in Winnipeg, I was endeavouring to convince
my children that there was a real sure-enough bona fide Santa Claus. The
house had been put in apple-pie order for Christmas Day, when later in
the afternoon, it was discovered to be in a deplorable condition. Stove
pipes had been taken down and the soot scattered all over the floors. It
happened this way: Jack McGinn dropped in, and when closely questioned
by the children as to the reality of Santa Claus, and how he could get
into houses that had no big chimneys and fireplaces—guess they didn’t
believe me—fully explained that Santa could suit himself according to
circumstances, and squeeze through a keyhole if necessary. He also
informed his eager listeners that Santa always dressed in pure white,
and wouldn’t go down dirty pipes. Then having accomplished his
diabolical purpose, he left, and the kids took down the sooty stove
pipes and scattered the soot on the floors to ensure a visit from good
St. Nicholas. Of course, he came.
* * * * *
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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