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XXXVIII. THAT OF JEREMIAH SCOLES, MISER.

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i sing of joys, and junketings,

of holly, and of such-like things;

i sing of merry mistletoe,

and,—pardon me,—i sing also

of jeremiah scoles.

i sing of mister scoles because

so singular a man he was,

and had so very strange a way

of celebrating christmas day—

unlike all other souls.

myself, i am a cheerful man,

enjoying life as best i can.

at christmas-time i love to see

the flow of mirth and jollity

about the festive board;

i love to dance, i try to sing;

on enemies, like anything,

at christmas-time i heap hot coals,

but not so jeremiah scoles—

he loves a miser's hoard.

i chanced one year, on christmas day,

to call upon him, just to say

that we'd be very pleased to see

him, if he'd care to come to tea.

i found him quite alone.

he sat before a fireless grate;

the room looked bare and desolate,

and he, unkempt, in dressing-gown,

received me with an angry frown,

and spoke in surly tone.

"ha! what d'ye want?" said he to me

and eyed me most suspiciously.

i laughed and gave a hearty smack

upon the grumpy fellow's back,

and cried: "come home with me.

we'll treat you well. there's lots of fun—"

but ere i scarcely had begun

he cut me short. "pooh! folly! stuff!

see here; i've fun—quite fun enough!"

he laughed, but mirthlessly.

before him on the table lay

gold, silver, coppers, in array;

some empty bottles; stacks of bills;

some boxes for containing pills—

and that was all. said he:

"this gold is what i haven't spent

in presents; and the silver's meant

to show what could be wasted in—

pah!—christmas boxes. 'tis a sin

i don't encourage—no, not me?

"the coppers—little boys, no doubt,

would like 'em—they may go without;

while these long bills i should have had

from tradesmen, had i been so mad

as to have bought the things

they represent for christmas cheer;

these bottles and pill-boxes here

show what i will not have to take,

because i'll have no stomach-ache

that over-eating brings.

"and thus i spend my christmas day,

thinking what silly fools are they

who spend so much in solid cash

on so much sentimental trash.

and now, good-day to you!"

he showed me out, he banged the door,

and i was—where i was before.

* * *

i really think, upon my word,

his line of reasoning's most absurd.

no doubt you think so, too?

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