Christmas is here! At a season so sprightly We banish all thoughts about mundane affairs, And attempt to be gay and to smile fairly brightly, In spite of our worries and cares. (But financial embarrassments mortify most men Whose hearts a prognostic of bankruptcy grips, When the dustmen and milkmen, policemen and postmen, Demand their habitual tips!) * * * * * Then tell me--and grateful I'll be to you, very-- Oh, tell me why Christmas was ever called 'Merry'! ENVOI [All work, says a well-known humorist, is an unutterable bore. All that concerns the writer are the cheques his work brings him in.] Simple is the man who fancies, In his fond and foolish heart, That the author weaves romances For the love of Art; That the poet's torch, ignited By some sacred inner fire, Is a spark of genius lighted To illume his lyre; That 'tis Honour or Ambition Prompts the bard to composition! No celestial inspiration Gilds the poet's cheerless den, Kindles his imagination, Stirs his sluggish pen; No divine _afflatus_, blowing From some charmed Pierian font, Starts the springs of fancy flowing Like the spur of Want. This, poor Pegasus controlling, Sets the eye in frenzy rolling! Not in search of fame or rank is He who drives this fretful quill, But his balance at the bank is Practically _nil_, And the cause, the motive, lying At his inspiration's roots, Is the sound of children crying, Crying out for boots; 'Tis the need for ready money Makes the humorist so funny! Printed by T. and A. CONSTABLE, Printers to His Majesty at the Edinburgh University Press FOOTNOTES: [1] A species of pollack. [2] Another species of pollack. TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES: Passages in italics are indicated by _italics_. Inconsistencies in spelling and hyphenation have been retained from the original. Punctuation has been corrected without note.