The Wheeling daily intelligencer. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1865-1903, 1897-12-22
CHRISTMAS EVE AT GRANDPA's.

We're goin' down TO grandpa's house to
spend our Christmas there,
Where Santa Claus comes ever time If
nights are rough or fair
Cause grandpa's old and he has heard him
lots Of times when he -
| mean old Santa Claus-came down the
chimney stealthily.
You ought to see my grandpa'S house
about the holidays
Big rooms, a fireplace where the logs JUS
see how they can blaze;
A sideboard with red apples that from out
the drawers peep;
And feather beds that hide you most when
you crawl In to sleep.
His pile of night-wood on the porch--w'y,
even that's sight,
Brought In TO make n roarln' fire keep
burnin half the night:
For Christmas ewes We play till twelve,
and then the fire dies low,
So Santa Claus can scramble down and
not get scorched you know
Our grandpa-and our grandma, too-thcy
seem 10 think that boys
Should have some pleasures same as men,
although they make some noise.
II you should stamp or yell out loud you
never hear them say,
IVY, Childrenl Do not act like mules!
You'll drive us all away
When feedln's done and all the stock is
sheltered In the barn,
And you can hear the horses as they're
munchln' hay and corn.
And when the world grows dark and stars
are 'fox-fire' OF the skies,
The tables spread and all so in, and-then
It's awful nice.
For grandpa asks the blessln', and our
grandma from the pot
Pours coffee that's the bestest yet, so
brown and steamin' hot
She don't say. III you drink this now
you cannot sleep tonight
And II she gives us coffee, well, It's nothln'
else but right.
They pass the sausage and fried ribs the
second time at least.
And hutter'n eggs and everything that goes
to make feast,
you've eaten nothin'-have some more"
they urge, till am boun'
TO say the country supper beats the
dinner" in the town.
When enterIn' the sittln room-the supper
through-the FIRE
Is punched and made to sparkle up, and
up, and up still higher;
And when us children play our games the
He readln on one side the hearth, while
she on t'other'll knit
Some nelghbor, maybe, happens IN ana
holds his achln' hands
Before the fire to thaw as he a moment
leanln' stands;
And soon they'll chat OF latc-sown wheat,
or wonder II the snow
Amt bout ms deep as twas this night
jus thirty years ago.
or changn'. talk OF one who's gone
where's Christmas always now
Some little aunt we never knew; and then
our grandma'll bow
A trine lower as she knlts, and Grandpall
halfway rise
And poke the fire and say the smoke somc-
how aHee's bis eyes.
or, bottcr'n all. thoy'll tell OF things that
happened, and are true,
or ghosts and wolves and bears and how
the pioneers would do:
And this will make us crowd mp close and
glance around. afoard--
We Know wen have such awful dreams
aud think OF all we've heard.
By.'n.by the time 10 20 to bed and on the
mantclplcCC
Wen hang our 9tockin's 30 they'll be the
first thing Santa sees;
Then, snug beneath the blankets, We VIII
listen TO the roar
OF Winds that grandpa laughs ana says IN
gray-haIred winters snore.
And as we look upon the moon, n plaque
above the hills
or on the shalow-army that the silent
chamber ILLS,
Gods mighty good TO pause
And think Of children now and then and
" VIII r. Hale,