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Akira Avenue
Angels A to Z
Ayliyah Avenue
Brody Close
Bruno's Bedtime
Choocho Station
Comfort Valley
Corey's Castle
Dinah's Drive
Dino's Burger.
Dionne Bridge
Disney Drive
Donna's Diner
Fairy Square
Ffordd Llyfr
Ha-Ha Arcade
Happy Mansions
Jaimie's Zoo
J.J's Junction
Jo's Galleon
K. K's Square
Kid's House
Kid's Treasury
Kindness Street
King P. Palace
Knock Meadow
Lily's Yard
Monty's Circus
Minnie Marsh
Molly Melody
Noah's Ark
Nonsense Avenue
Nursery Land
Odhran's Tale
Penguin Avenue
Pleasure Land
Pooh's Park
Princess Way
Prudence Close
Prince's Alley
Queen P Palace
Rabbit's Warren
Sage Rise
Scotch Corner
Scrap City
Spiggy Square
Studio Ghibli
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Toby Bucket
Unicorn Meadow
Merry - Land
Diddily Dee Dot's Dreamland for Children Everywhere
Noah's Ark
Diddilydeedot's Dream Land

The Story of NOAH and his ARK

The Lupin said to a LadybirdDiddilydeedot's Dream Land

Two lovely little Rhymes from
D. M. G Howell


A Lupin said to a Ladybird -
"Don't put on airs - it's too absurd
When you're nothing but an insect!
I am a flower of stately mien -
Above small plants I tower - a queen."

Ladybird with the Lupin

"That may be true," the insect said ;
"But children love my wings of red.
Truly, I have no airs absurd,
I know I'm only a Ladybird,
And nothing but an insect."

The hot sun rose at break of day.
The Lupin died and withered away.

The Ladybird flitted the hot hours through,
A joy to me - a joy to you.
Diddily calls them Ladybugs :)( Though nothing but an insect! )

Rhyme 2

Elf with an Umbrella

I met an elf one morning in a heavy shower of rain,
He took me to his little house of grass and stalks of grain;
He gave me honey-bread to eat,
A purse of fairy gold,
Buckles for my shoes so neat,
A cap with tassels bold.

When the shower was over, the sun shone out once more,Cup of Blackberry Tea
As I thanked the little elf, he bowed me from the door.
Should he come to visit me
In any kind of weather,
I'll give him sugar in his tea
And boots of patent leather.

Diddilydeedot's Dream Land


There was once a little boy named Mutchi who always wanted to do whatever he saw other people or even animals do.
     When he looked through the window and saw a rider on a horse, Mutchi cried, "I want to ride! I want to ride!"
     When he played in the garden and saw a bird flying from tree to tree he cried, "I want to fly! I want to fly!"
     And when he looked into the clear stream and saw the fishes swimming to and fro he clapped his little hands and cried, "I want to swim! I want to swim!"
     One day Mutchi was in the garden playing horses all alone. He cracked his whip and shouted, "Gallop, gallop, trot, trot, trot! Now I'm ready to ride."
  As he jumped up and down a white pony with a golden saddle on its back came trotting along the path.
     The pony came to the little boy's side, knelt down, and said, "Jump on, Mutchi."
   Mutchi sprang on the horses back and cried, "Hurrah! Now I can ride, Gallop, gallop, trot, trot, trot!"
     Outside in the lane stood Mutchi's sister.

"Where are you going, Mutchi? she asked.
     "Out into the world. Will you come too? There is plenty of room for you to sit behind me."
     "No, no." said Little Sister. "I shall stay at home with mother."
     "Then stay," laughed Mutchi, and he cracked his whip, and the pony galloped as fast as a pony could gallop.
     First they galloped through a wide, wide field, then over a steep, steep hill, then through a thick, deep wood.
     As they came out of the thick, deep wood thay saw a grean meadow where pretty flowers grew.
     The pony trotted across the green meadow and then along a sandy beach.
     Mutchi looked over the sandy beach ans saw the sea shining on the other side.
     The pony was getting tired now. He trotted slowly, and at last he said, "I can go no farther. You must jump down Mutchi."
     "No, no," said Mutchi. I want to go on and on and on."
     The pony kicked his hind legs up in the air, and bump! bump! down went Mutchi on the sand. He rolled over twice, and then went splash! splash! into the sea.

Mutchi by Stella Mead A red-gold fish came swimming by. Mutchi sprang on its back, held on to a fin with his little hands, and laughed. "Now I can go on! Now I am swimming! Hurrah!"
     So they went on in the blue water and dived down to the bottom of the sea.
     And all the little fishes swam around them and cried with glee, "This is Mutchi. This is little Mutchi. He has come to swim with us in the sea!"
     At the bottom of the sea white shells were gleaming, and red sea stars were shining. But wwhen Mutchi tried to look at them his eyes were filled with water, and he cried to the fish, "I want to go up again. Please take me up out of the water."
    The fish swam up, and just as Mutchi's head rose above the water a geat bird came along.
     The great bird seized Mutchi in its beak, tossed him onto his back, and flew off with him.
     "Hurrah!" cried Mutchi. "Now I am flying! Now I am flying! What a fine fellow I am!"
   "Fly higher, fly higher." said Mutchi to the bird. "I want to see the sun. Take me up to the sun."
     "I cannot fly as far as that," said the bird. "If you want to get higher you must get into a cloud."
   "Good. I will get into a cloud," laughed Mutchi.
     He spread out his hands and sank into a white cloud that was floating by - a cloud that was soft, soft like feathers.
  Then the cloud grew grey, and then it grew black.
     All at once Mutchi felt tears on his face and neck.
     I think they are tears from my mother," he said sadly. "I think she is crying because I am not at home."
     "You are right," said the cloud. "They are your mother's tears."
    "Let me down!" he cried. "Let me down! I do not want to go to the sun. I want to go home to my mother."
     "Very well," said the cloud, and it began to sink.
    Lower, and lower.
    Bump! Bump! There was Mutchi, lying under the hazel bush in the garden.
      His mother saw him, and cried: "Oh, here is Mutchi back again. here he is safe and sound under the hazel bush!"
     And Mutchi's little sister clapped her hands and danced with joy.

What a lovely, little story, I don't know a lot about Stella Mead, and what I do have is in one of my old annuals from 1931. Maybe I shall find some more, I do hope so.
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Cook Cathy  CAT
Cats Sleep Anywhere

Cats sleep anywhere, any table, any chair.
Top of piano, window-ledge, in the middle, on the edge.
Open draw, empty shoe, anybody's lap will do.
Fitted in a cardboard box, in the cupboard with your frocks.
Anywhere! They don't care! Cats sleep anywhere.

Eleanor Farjeon (1881 - 1965)


Sycamore Tree
Atter her, atter her,
Sleeky flatterer,

Spitfire chatterer,
Scatter her, scatter her
Off her mat!
Treat her rough!
Git her, git her,

Whiskery spitter!
Catch her, catch her,
Green-eyed scratcher!
Don't miss her!
Run till you're dithery,
Pfitts! pfitts!

How she spits!

Spitch! Spatch!
Can't she scratch!
Scritching the bark
Of the sycamore-tree,
She's reached her ark
And's hissing at me
Wuff! Wuff!



Eleanor Farjeon, was born over a century ago, way back in 1881, known to the family as "Nellie", was a small timid child, who had poor eyesight and suffered from ill-health throughout her childhood. She was educated at home, spending much of her time in the attic, surrounded by books. Her father encouraged her writing from the age of five. She describes her family and her childhood in the autobiographical, A Nursery in the Nineties (1935). I think we are very lucky to have left behind so many of her wonderful childrens rhymes, that she bequeathed, I think to all the children of the world, and we will think of her, long, long after even the 21st century has gone. Sadly Eleanor Farjeon passed away in 1965, but she will always be in our hearts for eternity.







I'll tell you how the leaves came down
The great Tree to his children said:
"You're getting sleepy, Yellow and Brown,
Yes, very sleepy, little Red.
It is quite time to go to bed."

"Ah ! " begged each silly, pouting leaf,
"Let us a little longer stay:
Dear Father Tree, behold our grief !
'tis such a very pleasant day,
We do not want to go away."

So just for one more merry day
To the great Tree the leafletsclung,
Frolicked and danced, and had their way,
Upon the autumn breezes swung,

Whispering all their sports among;

"Perhaps the great Tree will forget,

And let us stay until the spring,
If we all beg, and coax, and fret."
But the great Tree did no such thing;
He smiled to hear them whispering.

"Come now, children, all to bed," he cried;
And, ere the leaves could urge their prayer,
He shook his head, and far and wide,
Fluttering and rustling everywhere,
Down sped the leaflets through the air.

I saw them; on the ground they lay,
Golden and red, a huddled swarm,
Waiting till one from far away,
White bedclothes heaped upon her arm,
Should come to wrap them safe and warm.

The great bare Tree looked down and smiled.
"Good night, dear little leaves," he said.
And from below each sleepy child
Replied, "Good-night," and murmered,
"It is so nice to go to bed!"

Susan Coolidge
What a lovely little verse, and this is wrote by Susan Coolidge,
Sarah Chauncy Woolsey who wrote under the name Susan Coolidge, was born in Cleveland, Ohio, on January 29, 1835, she died April 9, 1905. She is also the same lady who wrote all the "Katy Did" story books. A 1990s reading study in Great Britain found the "What Katy Did" series ranked among the ten most popular reading choices for 12-year-old girls. The first volumes of the series remain in print in both countries.


Violet Diddily-dee-dot's Dreamland, Welcome's You All.
The Violet Fairy
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VioletIn a very far-away country, a long time ago, there lived a man who loved music and little children and the birds and flowers. And the little children loved Pan--for that was his name--because he told them such beautiful stories and played on a set of pipes which he had made from the reeds which grew by the Violetriver.

Every evening, when it was time for the sun to go to sleep and all the little stars to wake up, Pan would take his pipes, go down to the river side, and play all the songs he knew. Everybody could hear Pan's music for miles and miles, but many of them did not like his music, and wished that he would not play.

Once some of these people gathered together and planned how they could stop Pan from playing his pipes, and while they were talking, some beetles near by heard their plans. Now, one of these beetles had hurt his wing at one time and had fallen down in the dust on the road, and could go no farther. It was a very hot day, and the poor little beetle was almost dead from the heat. Soon Pan came walking along and saw the beetle, and,  picking it up very carefully, he carried it on some green leaves to a shady place, where he left it to rest and get well. The beetle had never forgotten Pan's kindness, and when he heard the plans these bad people had made he said:
"Come, friends, and go with me, for we must hurry and tell Pan what the wicked people have planned, so that he will not be there when they go to push him into the river."

The beetles had only one day in which to reach Pan, for the evil people were going to carry out their plans the next night, so they spread their wings and flew as fast as they could fly. They could not travel far at a time, because their wings grew very tired and their bodies were so heavy. When they could fly no longer they would walk, and when they were tired walking they would fly again. In this way they hurried on and on, for the day was growing into night, and they could hear Pan playing his beautiful songs way down by the river bank. They had almost reached him when they heard what seemed to be a crowd of people running through the bushes and among the trees, and it seemed that they were going toward the river. Next there was a big splash and many voices talking loudly, and after that--silence.
When the beetles reached the place where Pan always sat they could not find him; but there in the river were his pipes, which he loved so well.
The people had reached Pan before the beetles, and had pushed him into the river, and his pipes fell in too, but Pan did not wait to get them.
He climbed out and ran as fast as his feet would carry him. The people
ran after him, but he leaped and bounded over the bushes and flowers,
and ran on and on. Sometimes they were almost upon him, but he always
out-ran them.

He wished to hide, but could find no place. He could not climb the trees, for the people could climb trees, too, and he could not hide in the grass or under the bushes, for they would be sure to find him there.

At last, along the river bank, he spied the little violets that had
closed their eyes, but were still gazing at the stars. One little violet seemed to say to him,
"I will hide you," and it folded its little petals around him. Pan was safe now, and from his hiding place he could hear the people searching for him. They looked for a long time, but they did not find him. He was  happy and thankful, and, as he was very tired and the soft petals of the violets made a pleasant resting place, he was soon fast asleep.
Away back on the river bank, where Pan always sat, were the beetles.
They were very sorry that they had not reached him in time to tell him that the people were coming, and that they could not get his pipes out of the water, where they had fallen. And, though they never saw him
again, they always remembered him and the beautiful music he used to play.
One day some little children were picking violets by the river, and they found one little violet that had eyes just like Pan's eyes. They took it home and named it Pan's Eye, in memory of their old friend, but, as that was rather a hard name for the little children to say, they called it Pansy.


don't read it too fast, question and answer

What is song's eternity?
Come and see.
Can it noise and bustle be?
Come and see.
Praises sung or praises said
Can it be?
Wait awhile and these are dead --

Sigh, sigh;
Be they high or lowly bred
They die.

What is song's eternity?
Come and see.
Melodies of earth and sky,
Here they be.

Song once sung to Adam's ears
Can it be?
Ballads of six thousand years
Thrive, thrive;
Songs awaken with the spheres
Mighty songs that miss decay,
What are they?
Crowds and cities pass away
Like a day.
Books are out and books are read;
What are they?

Years will lay them with the dead --
Sigh, sigh;
Trifles unto nothing wed,
They die.
Dreamers, mark the honey bee;
Mark the tree
Where the blue cap "_tootle tee_"
Sings a glee
Sung to Adam and to Eve
Here they be.
When floods covered every bough,
Noah's ark

Heard that ballad singing now;
Hark, hark,

"_Tootle tootle tootle tee_"
Can it be
Pride and fame must shadows be?

Come and see --
Every season own her own;
Bird and bee

Sing creation's music on;
Nature's glee
Is in every mood and tone


By the wonderful John Clare

The Farmer's BoyLaura_Ingalls_Wilder_-_Farmer_Boy_

When I was a farmer, a farmer's boy
I used to keep my masters hens:
With a cluck-cluck here, and a cluck-cluck there,
Here a cluck, and there a cluck,  and everywhere a cluck;
My pretty lass, will you come to the banks of the A

When I was a farmer, a farmer's boy,
I used to kep my master's ducks:
With a quack-quack here, and a quack-quack there,
Here a quack, there a quack, and everywhere a quack;
With a cluck-cluck here, and a cluck-cluck there,
Here a cluck, and there a cluck,  and everywhere a cluck;
My pretty lass, will you come to the banks of the Air-o?

When I was a farmer, a farmer's boy
I used to keep my master,s lambs:
With a baa-baa here, and a baa-baa there,
Here a baa, there a baa, and everywhere a baa;
With a quack-quack here, and a quack-quack there,
Here a quack, there a quack, and everywhere a quack;

With a cluck-cluck here, and a cluck-cluck there,
Here a cluck, and there a cluck,  and everywhere a cluck;
My pretty lass, will you come to the banks of the Air-o?

When I was a farmer, a farmer's boy,
I used to keep my masters pigs:
With a grunt-grunt here, and a grunt-grunt there,
Here a grunt, there a grunt, everywhere a grunt.
With a baa-baa here, and a baa-baa there,

Here a baa, there a baa, and everywhere a baa;
With a quack-quack here, and a quack-quack there,
Here a quack, there a quack, and everywhere a quack;
With a cluck-cluck here, and a cluck-cluck there,
Here a cluck, and there a cluck,  and everywhere a cluck;
My pretty lass, will you come to the banks of the Air-o?

When I was a farmer, a farmer's boy,
I used to keep my master's dogs:
With a bow-wow here, and a bow-wow there,
Here a bow, and there a bow, everywhere a bow;
With a grunt-grunt here, and a grunt-grunt there,
Here a grunt, there a grunt, everywhere a grunt.
With a baa-baa here, and a baa-baa there,
Here a baa, there a baa, and everywhere a baa;
With a quack-quack here, and a quack-quack there,
Here a quack, there a quack, and everywhere a quack;
With a cluck-cluck here, and a cluck-cluck there,
Here a cluck, and there a cluck,  and everywhere a cluck;
My pretty lass, will you come to the banks of the Air-o?

A very old book about the Farmer Boy AlmanzoThe Farmer' Boy is also a children's historical novel by Laura Ingalls Wilder. First published in 1933, it is the second book in the nine part Little House series, also known as "The Laura Years". Although it was the second book written, Farmer Boy is usually read third in the series, following Little House on the Prairie. Farmer Boy is based on the child-hood of Laura's husband, Almanzo Wilder, who grew up in the 1860's near the town of Burke in upstate New York. The book covers one year in Almanzo's life, beginning just before his ninth birthday, and describes in detail the endless chores involved in running the Wilder family farm. Young as he is, Almanzo rises before five a.m. every day to milk several cows and feed stock. In the growing season, he plants and tends crops; in winter, he hauls logs, helps fill the ice house, trains a team of young oxen, and sometimes – when his father can spare him – goes to school.
 The novel includes stories of  Almanzo's brother Royal and his sisters Eliza Jane and Alice.

The Farmer's Boy,

along with Almanzo and Laura Ingalls Wilder

                       Click here ^ if Video stops

I also found this Website while looking for something to go with the lovely rhyme from Arthur Mee.  All the gen for it is at the end of this page. Do try and get over to see the whole of this amazing project. love diddilydedot in Wales


Almanzo Wilder Homestead Malone NY

Almanzo & Laura Ingalls Wilder Association (ALIWA), incorporated June 5, 1987, is a volunteer, historic, educational non-profit organization. The museum/home-stead consists of 84 acres of farmland, woods, restored ORIGINAL post and beam constructed farmhouse (1840-1843), reconstructed post and beam framed barns and outbuildings, a museum/visitor center/research library/ archives/gift shop/ office building complex, orchard, covered picnic pavilion, and nature trail to the Wilder family frontage on the Trout River .

This organization and historical site provide an educational opportunity through narrated tours, workshops, artifact museum, demonstrations, nature walk, archival research availability, school tours, and special events (i.e.. Christmas Story Hour, Harvest Festival & craft demonstrations and classes) for children and visitors to experience the period lifestyle of Almanzo Wilder who was born and raised here, 1857-1875. Interpretation of this site is based on the American classic book, Farmer Boy, written by Almanzo's wife, famed author, Laura Ingalls Wilder, as he described his recollections of his life here at this farm to her.

Please view the video trailer the full dvd can be obtained from the

Almanzo & Laura Ingalls Wilder Association

This historic house is the only ORIGINAL house on its original site of all those written about in the Little House book series. It is the only site dedicated to and original to Almanzo Wilder. It is an important piece of northern New York history.


The mission of the Almanzo & Laura Ingalls Wilder Association is to educate people about the rural life in Northern New York from 1840 - 1875 through the preservation and restoration of the Wilder Homestead, Boyhood home of Almanzo Wilder, as depicted in Farmer Boy by Laura Ingalls Wilder.


The vision of the Almanzo & Laura Ingalls Wilder Association is to develop the Wilder Homestead into an interactive educational center, museum and working farm as in the time of Almanzo Wilder's childhood.

Almanzo Wilder: Life Before Laura trailer. This is the trailer for the new documentary by Dean Butler about Almanzo's life at the Wilder homestead.

Almanzo and Laura Ingalls Wilder Association
PO Box 283, Malone, NY 12953  ·  518-483-1207 or 1-866-438-FARM (3276)
www.almanzowilderfarm.com  ·  almanzo@northnet.org

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 Hello welcome to
A Child's Idea of Natures Wonders

A Different Seven Wonders


A group of students were asked to list what they thought were the present
  "Seven Wonders of the World." Though there were some disagreements,
the following received the most votes:

1. Egypt's Great Pyramids

2. Taj Mahal

3. Grand Canyon

4. Panama Canal 

5. Empire State Building  

6. St. Peter's Basilica  

7. China's Great Wall

While gathering the votes, the teacher noted that one student
had not finished her paper yet. So she  asked the girl if
she was having trouble with her  list. The girl replied,
"Yes, a little.  I couldn't quite make up my mind
because  there were so many."

The teacher said, "Well, tell us what you have, and
maybe we can help.

"The girl hesitated, then read, "I think the
'Seven  Wonders of the World'   are:


To See Beauty
1. To See

to hear
2. To Hear

to touch
3. To Touch


4. To Taste

 to feel

5. To Feel

6. To Laugh

I Love You Daddy
7. And to Love."

The room was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop.
The things we overlook as simple and ordinary and that
we take for granted  are truly wondrous!  

A gentle reminder --
that the most precious things in life 
cannot be built by hand or bought by man.

Don't be too busy to pass this along

Adapted from  http://www.dadazi.net/choto/pwdyka/7wndrs.htm  by Diddilydeedot

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      There are parties and parties! for Christmas, for Easter, Halloween; then there's Birthdays and May Days; In my time we had them when the strawberry season started and when the hay was all gathered in. You can give a party for an Anniversary or wedding but the one thing you can't have..... is a party without guests.
       Mum will probably tell you how many friends you can invite, so make a list and then write out the invitations to make sure they have plenty of time to hold that day. Make sure you have the name, date, time to arrive, 3pm for the tiny ones is good, where as the older ones may like a later time.
      Make sure you make the Invitation pretty and if your having a theme party give some suggestions of what to wear. If you have a clown or magician coming write that as well. All adds to the build up and fun.

If you are going to play games make sure you have all the things for the games ready. Parcels made for pass the parcel. Donkey and tail for the pin on tail, or make a change and have stick the red nose on the clown, charades is a good game, write out some disney titles, they go down well and everyone usually knows them. Split the guests into two groups, boys against girls say. You could even have some modern tunes and haveGuess the song from the intro. get mum or dad to make you a tape.
If your inviting family , make sure to introduce them to your friends. A good way to get people to mingle is to make "Party Cards" Tweedle Dee/Tweedle Dum. have to find each other as their partner, Micky Mouse/Minnie Mouse, Jack/Jill, Etc.

If you are having a Christmas Party, make sure there are lotss of Christmas effects. Lots of twinkling lights, crackers, holly and mistletoe!!! for the Christmas kiss. After the food you could do with a quiet moment and if you havent got a clown or magician then play som quiet games. A quiz is always good. One theme could be Nursery Rhymes like..
  1. Who sat amongst the Cinders? ...
  2. Who fell asleep under the haystack? ...
  3. What did my true love give me for my fifth gift? ...
  4. Who stepped in a puddle up to his middle? ...

Make the quiz 10 questions long, again have teams or even better their partners from when they arrived Tweedle Dum etc.
It is lovely to win something and a ig bag of lollies is cheap these days,
Balloons and streamers are also good to have about. and poppers, but be very careful where you aim them.
Another good pencil and paper game, rather than consequences is to get someone to choose a letter, say C, then the idea is to follow the instructions given by the judge.
All answers must begin with the letter C and quite from the mind, then it goes like this;

  1. Name for the host
  2. Name of Street
  3. Name of Town
  4. Name of five guests.
  5. Name of five food they ate
  6. Name of three things they talked about after .

So it could go like this.

Christopher Campbell
of Crawley Crescent
sked Carl, Christine, Carol, Cecil, and Celia to the party
we ate Chicken, Celery, Cabbage, Cole-slaw and Chocolate Creams,
and we talked about, Christmas, Cream cakes and Canada

To finish off the party why not put on the cd player and have a dance and/or sing song. Most of all Make sure you enjoy yourself and make sure there is always a spare mum or dad to help out if anything goes wrong. ENJOY



by Clement Clarke Moore 


'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that ST. NICHOLAS soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,

Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
On COMET! on CUPID! on,
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
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 hand, 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 of 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,

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