George Allan England

“ Wise, spectacled philogists tell us the English language contains some 400,000 words. Not enough, by half, to tell what Christmas means to an imaginative child—even after he’s seen the slippers and the buffalo-robe. ”

“ Why, Father was the strongest man in the whole world, wasn’t he? And the tallest? And knew the most of anybody? Could that huge man, who tossed you up so lightly in his arms, that stern yet loving man with the red beard, the hearty laugh, the little jokes and funny ways, go away off forever like anybody else? ”

“ All the rest, that day and later—the actual craunching of the candy cane, the veritable playing with the wooden engine or the donkey or Maud S.—though pleasant enough, was nevertheless of this world, worldly, not much different from any usual play. With tangible possession, the superhuman, the mystic elements departed. ”

“ No, all such things were kept inviolate, spirited away by Mother or by Sis, to join the goodly company of the bureau-drawer. But just to handle and poke and sniff and speculate-—there were pretty fair-sized thrills even in that!
The days, behold, they passed. They became seven, five, three, one—then, lo! To-morrow was Christmas! The strain was breaking. It couldn't last. Every hour became pregnant, every minute electrical. ”

“ The slippers and the buffalo-robe had wrecked all that, forever. But even now, yes, surely you're all that pot bellied old stove with the many isinglass doors all round it—a “base-burner” such as rarely is to be come across in these dull days of furnaces and steam-heat. If any fire on earth could get a message through to Santa, that old base-burner could. It had a big bed of the hottest coals in the world, all wavering and white ”

“ So the Tree grew dark, with puffs and little twisty spirals of ill-smelling smoke writhing up from the wicks. And you were somehow glad of that, too, glad to be let alone a little, for a while to run your wooden train with “Mexican Central” painted on the tender, back and forth across the carpet, glad to get a chance to investigate what made the wooden donkey kick. (Only a wire, after all; no magic!) Glad, when Mother said, “Now, Dado, bed-time. ”

“ Right after supper They casually asked you to step down to the post-office to see if there were any more letters or packages. (Strange, how stupid Grown-ups are, as they move in their slow orbits and do and say so many dull, uninteresting, obvious things, believing, all the time, that Little Pitchers do not comprehend!) ”