Now, dash away! dash away! dash away, all!”
       As dry leaves, that before the wild hurricane fly
       When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
       So, up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
       With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas, too;
       And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
       The prancing and pawing of each little hoof. 
       As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
       Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound. 
       He was dressed all in fur from his head to his foot,
       And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
       A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
       And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack;
       His eyes, how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry! 
       His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry;
       His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
       And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;
       The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
       And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
       He had a broad face, and a little round belly,
       That shook, when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly. 
       He was chubby and plump,—­a right jolly old elf—­
       And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself. 
       A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
       Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread. 
       He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
       And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
       And, laying his finger aside of his nose,
       And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose. 
       He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
       And away they all flew like the down of a thistle;
       But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
       “Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”

Clement C. Moore.

* * * * *

82

a chieved’ es poused’ thral’ dom al li’ ance ter rif’ ic Del’ a ware Com’ mo dore re cip’ i ents New’ found land can non ad’ ing par tic’ i pa ted char ac ter is’ tic

COMMODORE JOHN BARRY.

The story of the American Navy is a story of glorious deeds.  From the early days of Barry and Jones, when it swept the decks of King George’s proud ships with merciless fire, down to the glories achieved by Admirals Dewey and Schley in our war with Spain, the story of our Navy is the pride and glory of our Republic.  The glowing track of its victories extends around the world.

Of the many distinguished men whose names and whose deeds adorn the pages of our country’s history, there is none more deserving of our gratitude and admiration than Commodore John Barry.  His name and fame will live in the naval annals of our country as long as the history of America lasts.