Oh, hush thee, little dear, my soul,
    The evening shades are falling;
  Hush thee, my dear, dost thou not hear
    The voice of the Master calling?

  Deep lies the snow upon the earth,
    But all the sky is ringing
  With joyous song, and all night long
    The stars shall dance with singing.

  Oh, hush thee, little dear, my soul,
    And close thine eyes in dreaming,
  And angels fair shall lead thee where
    The singing stars are beaming.

  A shepherd calls his little lambs,
    And he longeth to caress them;
  He bids them rest upon his breast,
    That his tender love may bless them.

  So, hush thee, little dear, my soul,
    Whilst evening shades are falling,
  And above the song of the heavenly throng
    Thou shall hear the Master calling.

—­Eugene Field.

* * * * *

=Santa Claus’s Visit.=

By SUSIE M. BEST.

  With a click and a clack
  And a great big pack,
  Down through the chimney,
  Pretty nimbly
  Somebody comes on Christmas eve!

  If we are real nice
  And as still as mice,
  If we never peep,
  And are sound asleep,
  He’ll fill our stockings, I do believe!

  And when we arise
  Next day our eyes
  Will grow big to see
  How perfectly
  He knew what we all wished to receive!

* * * * *

=To Santa Claus.=

By JENNIE D. MOORE.

    (Recitation for a little boy.)

  Dear Santa Claus, I’ll let you know
    The few things that I need,
  And if you’ll bring them to me
    I’ll be much obliged indeed.

  I want a horse and wagon,
    And a boat that’s painted red,
  An elephant, a jumping-jack—­
    You need not bring a sled,

  For I have one very pretty;
    But I want a trotting-horse,
  A man who wheels a wheel-barrow,
    And candy, too, of course.

  Now, Santa dear, you’ll not forget. 
    I wish you’d write them down,
  And leave them all at my house
    When you journey through the town.

* * * * * =What I Should Like.=

By JENNIE D. MOORE.

    (Recitation for a little girl.)

  On Christmas eve I’d like to lie
  Awake, when stars are in the sky,
  And listen to the sound that swells
  From Santa Claus’s jingling bells.

  I’d like to hear upon the roof
  The patter of each tiny hoof
  Of Santa’s reindeer overhead,
  When I am snug and warm in bed.

  But mamma says I must not lie
  Awake, or he will pass me by;
  He does not like the girls or boys
  To watch him when he brings the toys.

  I think I’d better go to sleep. 
  I guess the presents all will keep,
  Then in the morning I shall be
  Glad to think I did not see.