A long and a flowing padded gown.
Bedecks his rattling ribs.

He cries, "Go on--begin, begin!
Turn on the light of lime--
I'm dressed for jolly Old Christmas, in
A favourite pantomime!"

The curtain's up--the stage all black--
Time and the year nigh sped--
Time as an advertising quack--
The Old Year nearly dead.

The wand of Time is waved, and lo!
Revealed Old Christmas stands,
And little children chuckle and crow,
And laugh and clap their hands.

The cruel old scoundrel brightens up
At the death of the Olden Year,
And he waves a gorgeous golden cup,
And bids the world good cheer.

The little ones hail the festive King,--
No thought can make them sad.
Their laughter comes with a sounding ring,
They clap and crow like mad!

They only see in the humbug old
A holiday every year,