  I sing of joys, and junketings, Of holly, and of such-like things; I sing of merry mistletoe, And,—pardon me,—I sing also Of Jeremiah Scoles. I sing of Mister Scoles because So singular a man he was, And had so very strange a way Of celebrating Christmas Day— Unlike all other souls. Myself, I am a cheerful man, Enjoying life as best I can. At Christmas-time I love to see The flow of mirth and jollity About the festive board; I love to dance, I try to sing; On enemies, like anything, At Christmas-time I heap hot coals, But not so Jeremiah Scoles— He loves a miser's hoard. To call upon him, just to say That we'd be very pleased to see Him, if he'd care to come to tea. I found him quite alone. He sat before a fireless grate; The room looked bare and desolate, And he, unkempt, in dressing-gown, Received me with an angry frown, And spoke in surly tone. And eyed me most suspiciously. I laughed and gave a hearty smack Upon the grumpy fellow's back, And cried: "Come home with me. We'll treat you well. There's lots of fun—" But ere I scarcely had begun He cut me short. "Pooh! folly! stuff! See here; I've fun—quite fun enough!" He laughed, but mirthlessly. Before him on the table lay Gold, silver, coppers, in array; Some empty bottles; stacks of bills; Some boxes for containing pills— And that was all. Said he: "This gold is what I haven't spent In presents; and the silver's meant To show what could be wasted in— Pah!—Christmas boxes. 'Tis a sin I don't encourage—no, not me? "The coppers—little boys, no doubt, Would like 'em—they may go without; While these long bills I should have had From tradesmen, had I been so mad As to have bought the things They represent for Christmas cheer; These bottles and pill-boxes here Show what I will not have to take, Because I'll have no stomach-ache That over-eating brings. "And thus I spend my Christmas Day, Thinking what silly fools are they Who spend so much in solid cash On so much sentimental trash. And now, good-day to you!" He showed me out, he banged the door, And I was—where I was before. * * * I really think, upon my word, His line of reasoning's most absurd. No doubt you think so, too?
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