Why Santa Claus Sneezed on Christmas
Ah-ketch-u! ah-ketch-u!! ah-ketch-u!!!
Right out of the chimney he flew,
With the speed of a comet, the whiz of a rocket,
Coat up to his ears, hands stuffed in his pocket,
His nose in a pucker, his teeth in a chatter,
"Dear Santa," said I, "why what is the matter?
You look very much as if you were freezing;
And, of all things, what under the sun set you sneezing?
Is it possible, you, the dear old Saint Nicholas,
Have been catching cold? How supremely ridiculous!"
He stopped when he heard me, this jolly old fellow.
With his heart like, a peach, so tender and mellow.
"I am chilled to the marrow," he cried, with a shiver,
His eyes growing misty, his chin in a quiver.
"Did you see the tall chimney from which I came flying?
In the room right below it a small boy sat crying
And sobbing and scolding because -oh how shocking! -
He found only ten presents crammed in his stocking,
While his wee baby sister had eleven. Why, his weeping
Made the chimney so damp, the cold chills kept creeping
From my neck to my toe-tips. So then, with a whew!
I shot out of that chimney - ah-ketch-u! ah-ketch-u!!
"I have travelled all over the far arctic regions.
Have been among Esquimaux. Danes and Norwegians;
But that's the first child, on mainland or isthmus.
That has made me, old Santa Claus, sneeze on a Christmas."