the window I went with a dash,
Flung open the shutter, and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave the lustre of noon-day to objects below.

When what to my long anxious eyes should appear
But a horse and a sleigh, both old-fashioned and queer;
With a little old driver, so solemn and slow,
I knew at a glance it must be Dr Brough.
I drew in my head, and was turning around,
When upstairs came the Doctor, with scarcely a sound,
He wore a thick overcoat, made long ago,
And the beard on his chin was white with the snow.
He spoke a few words, and went straight to his work;
He felt all the pulses,--then turned with a jerk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose,
With a nod of his head to the chimney he goes:--
"A spoonful of oil, ma'am, if you have it handy;
No nuts and no raisins, no pies and no candy.
These tender young stomachs cannot well digest
All the sweets that they get; toys and books are the best.
But I know my advice will not find many friends,
For the custom of Christmas the other way tends.
The fathers and mothers, and Santa Claus, too,
Are exceedingly blind. Well, a good-night to you!"
And I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight:
These feastings and candies make Doctors' bills right!"

SANTA CLAUS DOES NOT FORGET.

Bertie was a very good boy. He was kind, obedient, truthful, and
unselfish. He had, however, one great fault,--he always forgot.

No matter how important the errand, his answer always was, "I forgot."
When he was sent with a note to the dress-maker his mother would find
the note in his pocket at night. If he was sent to the store in a
great hurry, to get something for tea, he would return late, without
the article, but with his usual answer.

His father and mother talked the matter over, and decided that
something must be done to make the little boy remember.

Christmas was near, and Bertie was busy making out a list of things
which Santa Claus was to bring him.

"Santa Claus may forget some of those things," said his mother.

[Illustration: CHRISTMAS FROLICS]

"He cannot," replied Bertie; "for I shall write sled, and skates, and
drum, and violin, and all the things on this paper. Then when Santa
Claus goes to my stocking he will find the list. He can see it and put
the things in as fast as he reads."

Christmas morning came, and Bertie was up at dawn to see what was in
his stocking. His