A Dear Little Boy

A gay soldier-jacket, A suitcase to pack it, A box full of candy, A fine Jack-a-dandy, Kind Christmas is bringing to me. A red-crested Polly, A garland of holly, A nut and a raisin, A fine trumpet brazen,-- Oh, what a rich boy I shall be!

Some nails and a hammer To make a fine clamor, A pony to ride on, Some stilts I can stride on, Kind Christmas is bringing to me. A yellow canary My pets for to vary, A jar full of cookies, Some nice picture-bookies,-- Oh, what a rich boy I shall be!

Some sleigh-bells to jingle, Like those of Kriss Kringle, Two little black kittens, A pair of red mittens, Kind Christmas is bringing to me. A purse full of money, A snowy-white bunny,-- A horse fit for rocking, Some sweets for my stocking,-- Oh, what a rich boy I shall be!

My trundle-bed scorning, When comes the glad morning, My gifts I’ll find early, With fine hurly-burly, What Christmas is bringing to me. “Get up!” I’ll be saying, “I want to go playing! My breakfast be hasting, There’s no time for wasting!” Oh, what a rich boy I shall be!

“And grandmother’s ‘fairing’?” She’s too old for caring! “And wee sister Jennie?” She’s too small for any. Kind Christmas is coming to ME! “My father and mother?” Oh, they will not bother, If I am not sighing, Nor fretting nor crying, Oh, what a rich boy I shall be!