Explore "The Little Feller's Stockin" by Joseph C. Lincoln on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
O, it's Christmas Eve, and moonlight, and the Christmas air is chill, / And the frosty Christmas holly shines and sparkles on the hill, / And the Christmas sleigh-bells jingle and the Christmas laughter rings, / As the last stray shoppers hurry, takin' home the Christmas things; / And up yonder in the attic there's a little trundle bed / Where there's Christmas dreams a-dancin' through a sleepy, curly head; / And it's "Merry Christmas," Mary, once agin fer me and you, / With the little feller's stockin' hangin' up beside the flue.
'Tisn't silk, that little stockin', and it isn't much fer show, / And the darns are pretty plenty 'round about the heel and toe, / And the color's kind er faded, and it's sort er worn and old, / But it really is surprisin' what a lot of love 'twill hold; / And the little hand that hung it by the chimney there along / Has a grip upon our heartstrings that is mighty firm and strong; / So old Santy won't fergit it, though it isn't fine and new, -- / That plain little worsted stockin' hangin' up beside the flue.