Where do you go when the Fairies call,
  Little Boy!  Little Boy! where? 
Wade through the clews of the grasses tall,
Hearing the weir and the waterfall
  And the Wee Folk—­’way in there—­in there—­
    And the Kelpies—­’way in there!

And what do you do when you wake at dawn,
  Little Boy!  Little Boy! what? 
Hug my Mommy and kiss her on
Her smiling eyelids, sweet and wan,
  And tell her everything I’ve forgot
  About, a-wandering ’way in there—­
    Through the blind-world ’way in there!

[Illustration]

“THEM OLD CHEERY WORDS”

Pap he allus ust to say,
  “Chris’mus comes but onc’t a year!”
Liked to hear him that-a-way,
  In his old split-bottomed cheer
By the fireplace here at night—­
Wood all in,—­and room all bright,
Warm and snug, and folks all here: 
“Chris’mus comes but onc’t a year!”

Me and ’Lize, and Warr’n and Jess
  And Eldory home fer two
Weeks’ vacation; and, I guess,
  Old folks tickled through and through,
Same as we was,—­“Home onc’t more
Fer another Chris’mus—­shore!”
Pap ’u’d say, and tilt his cheer,—­
“Chris’mus comes but onc’t a year!”

Mostly Pap was ap’ to be
  Ser’ous in his “daily walk,”
As he called it; giner’ly
  Was no hand to joke er talk. 
Fac’s is, Pap had never be’n
Rugged-like at all—­and then
Three years in the army had
Hepped to break him purty bad.

[Illustration]

Never flinched! but frost and snow
  Hurt his wownd in winter.  But
You bet Mother knowed it, though!—­
  Watched his feet, and made him putt
On his flannen; and his knee,
Where it never healed up, he
Claimed was “well now—­mighty near—­
Chris’mus comes but onc’t a year!”

“Chris’mus comes but onc’t a year!”
  Pap ’u’d say, and snap his eyes ... 
Row o’ apples sputter’n’ here
  Round the hearth, and me and ’Lize
Crackin’ hicker’-nuts; and Warr’n
And Eldory parchin’ corn;
And whole raft o’ young folks here. 
“Chris’mus comes but onc’t a year!”

Mother tuk most comfort in
  Jest a-heppin’ Pap:  She’d fill
His pipe fer him, er his tin
  O’ hard cider; er set still
And read fer him out the pile
O’ newspapers putt on file
Whilse he was with Sherman—­(She
Knowed the whole war-history!)

Sometimes he’d git het up some.—­
  “Boys,” he’d say, “and you girls, too,
Chris’mus is about to come;
  So, as you’ve a right to do,
Celebrate it!  Lots has died,
Same as Him they crucified,
That you might be happy here. 
Chris’mus comes but onc’t a year!”

Missed his voice last Chris’mus—­missed
  Them old cheery words, you know. 
Mother belt up tel she kissed
  All of us—­then had to go
And break down!  And I laughs:  “Here! 
’Chris’mus comes but onc’t a year!”
“Them’s his very words,” sobbed she,
“When he asked to marry me.”