"We've had such hard, hard times this year For goblins! Never knew the like. All Elfland's mortgaged! And we fear The gnomes are just about to strike. "I once was rich, and round, and hale. The whole world called me jolly brick; But listen to a piteous tale. Young Harry, -- Santa Claus is sick! "'Twas thus: a smooth-tongued railroad man Comes to my house and talks to me: `I've got,' says he, `a little plan That suits this nineteenth century. "`Instead of driving, as you do, Six reindeer slow from house to house, Let's build a Grand Trunk Railway through From here to earth's last terminus. "`We'll touch at every chimney-top (An Elevated Track, of course), Then, as we whisk you by, you'll drop Each package down: just think, the force "`You'll save, the time! -- Besides, we'll make Our millions: look you, soon we will Compete for freights -- and then we'll take Dame Fortune's bales of good and ill "`(Why, she's the biggest shipper, sir, That e'er did business in this world!): Then Death, that ceaseless Traveller, Shall on his rounds by us be whirled. "`When ghosts return to walk with men, We'll bring 'em cheap by steam, and fast: We'll run a Branch to heaven! and then We'll riot, man; for then, at last "`We'll make with heaven a contract fair To call, each hour, from town to town, And carry the dead folks' souls up there, And bring the unborn babies down!' "The plan seemed fair: I gave him cash, Nay, every penny I could raise. My wife e'er cried, `'Tis rash, 'tis rash:' How could I know the stock-thief's ways? "But soon I learned full well, poor fool! My woes began, that wretched day. The President plied me like a tool. In lawyer's fees, and rights of way, "Injunctions, leases, charters, I Was meshed as in a mighty maze. The stock ran low, the talk ran high: Then quickly flamed the final blaze. "With never an inch of track -- 'tis true! The debts were large . . . the oft-told tale. The President rolled in splendor new -- He bought my silver at the sale. "Yes, sold me out: we've moved away. I've had to give up everything. My reindeer, even, whom I . . . pray, Excuse me" . . . here, o'er-sorrowing, Poor Santa Claus burst into tears, Then calmed again: "my reindeer fleet, I gave them up: on foot, my dears, I now must plod through snow and sleet. "Retrenchment rules in Elfland, now; Yes, every luxury is cut off. -- Which, by the way, reminds me how I caught this dreadful hacking cough: "I cut off the tail of my Ulster furred To make young Kris a coat of state. That very night the storm occurred! Thus we became the sport of Fate. "For I was out till after one, Surveying chimney-tops and roofs, And planning how it could be done Without my reindeers' bouncing hoofs. "`My dear,' says Mrs. Claus, that night (A most superior woman she!) `It never, never can be right That you, deep-sunk in poverty,