BY H. C. HEARMAN.
Kris Kringle shakes his reindeer reins,
That make the joybells jingle,
And old Jack Frost rides from the North,
To set our nerves a tingle.
An artist from the Great White Way
Writes on our window glass,
And when we pull the curtains up
A million snowflakes pass.
The streets are filled with happy folk,
Who call a joyous greeting,
And people bandy pleasant words
With all whom they are meeting.
The firelight gleams, the flames leap high,
The children romp and shout,
We never thought how it would feel
Should that old fire go out.
We never thought how it would seem
If Santa passed us by
And hungry children clothed in rags
Began to sob and cry.
And do you know we owe all this
To the birthday of a stranger,
Who, many years ago was laid
In a lowly Bethlehem manger?
He said that we should feed his lambs,
Those that were poor and weak,
And for His sake should hunt them out,
The lost sheep we should seek.
My friends, whene'er you feed a lamb
You feed not one but three,
The Lord who bids you do the act,
The hungry one and thee.
So do not let this season pass,
Without some act of love,
And angels in the record book
Will write your name above.
Troy Times. December 24, 1924: 10 col 1.