Joel's Talk with Santa Claus by Eugene Field. One Christmas Eve, Joel Baker
was in a most unhappy mood. He was lonesome and miserable. The chimes
making merry Christmas music outside disturbed rather than soothed him. The jingle of the
sleigh bells fretted him, and the shrill whistling of the wind around the corners
of the house and up and down the chimney seemed to grate harshly on his
ears. Humph said Joel wearily. Christmas is nothing to me. There was
a time when it meant a great deal, but that was long ago.
Fifty years is a long stretch to look back over. There is nothing in
Christmas now, nothing for me, at least, it is so long since
Santa Claus remembered me that I venture to say he has forgotten that there ever
was such a person as Joel Baker in all the world. It used to
be different. Santa Claus used to think a great deal of me when I
was a boy. Ah Christmas nowadays ain't what it was in the good old
time. No, not what it used to be. As Joel was absorbed
in his distressing thoughts, he became aware very suddenly that somebody was entering or
trying to enter the room. First came a draft of cold air, then
a scraping grating sound, then a strange shuffling, and then yes, then
all at once, Joel saw a pair of fat legs and a still fatter
body dangle down the chimney, followed presently by a long white beard, above
which appeared a jolly red nose and two bright twinkling eyes, while over the
head and forehead was drawn a fur cap white with snowflakes. Ha ha,
chuckled the fat, jolly stranger emerging from the chimney and standing well to one
side of the hearthstone. Ha ha. They don't have the big wide chimneys
they used to build, but they can't keep Santa Claus out. No,
they can't keep Slanta Claus out ha ha ha. Though the chimney were no
bigger than a gas pipe, Santa Claus would slide down it. It didn't
require a second glance to assure Joel that the newcomer was indeed Santa Claus.
Joel knew the good old Saint, Oh yes, and he had seen him
once before, and although that was when Joel was a little boy. He
had never forgotten how Santa Claus looked, nor had Santa Claus forgotten Joel,
although Joel thought he had. For now, Santa Claus looked kindly at Joel
and smiled and said, Merry Christmas to you. Joel, Thank you,
Old Santa Claus, replied Joel. But I don't believe it's gonna be a
very merry Christmas. It's been so long since I've had a merry Christmas that
I don't believe i'd know how to act if I had one. Let's see,
said Santa Claus. It must be going on fifty years since I saw
you last. Yes, you were eight years old the last time I slipped
down the chimney of the old homestead and filled your stocking. Do you remember
it? I remember it well, answered Joel. I had made up my
mind to lie awake and see Santa Claus. I had heard tell of you,
but i'd never seen you. And brother Otis, and I concluded we'd
lie awake and watch for you to come. Santa Claus shook his head reproachfully.
That was very wrong, said he. For I'm so scary that if
i'd known you boys were awake, i'd have never come down the chimney at
all, and then you'd have had no presents. But Otis couldn't keep awake,
explained Joel. We talked about everything we could think of, till Father
called out to us that if we didn't stop talking, he'd have to send
one of us up into the attic to sleep with the hired man. So
in less than five minutes, Otis was sound asleep, and no pinching could
wake him up. But I was bound to see Santa Claus, and I
don't believe anything would have put me to sleep. I heard the big clock
in the sitting room strike eleven, and I had begun wonderin if you never
were going to come. When all of a sudden I heard the tinkle of
the bells around your reindeer's necks. Then I heard the reindeers prancin on the
roof, and the sound of your sleigh runners cutting through the crust and slipping
over the shingles. I was kinda scared, and I covered my head up
with the sheet and quilts. Only I left a little hole so I could
peek out an see what was going on. As soon as I saw you
I got over beIN scared, for you were jolly and smilin like, and
you chuckled as you went around to each stalkin and filled it up. Yes,
I can remember that night, said Santa Claus. I brought you a
sled, didn't I. Yes, And you brought Otis one too, replied
Joel. Mine was red and had Yankee Doodle painted in black letters on the
side. Otis's was black and had snow Queen in gilt letters. I remember
those sleds distinctly, said Santa Claus, for I made them specially for you
boys. You set the sleds up against the wall, continued Joel, and
then you filled the stockings. There were six of them, as I recollect,
said Santa Claus. Let me see, queried Joel. There was mine,
and Otis's, and Elvira's and Thankfuls and Susan Prickett's. Susan was our
help, you know, No, there were only five, and as I
remember, they were the biggest. We could beg or borrow of Aunt Dorcas,
who weighed nigh under two hundred pounds. Otis and I didn't like Susan
Prickett, and we were hoping you'd put a cold potato in her stocking,
But Susan was a good girl, remonstrated Santa Claus. You know I put
cold potatoes only in the stockings of boys and girls who were bad and don't
believe in Santa Claus at any rate, said Joel. You filled all the
stockings with candy and popcorn and nuts and raisins, and I can remember you
said you were afraid you'd run out of popcorn balls before you got around.
Then you left each of us a book. Elvira got the best one,
which was The Garland of Friendship, and had poems in it about the bleedin'
of hearts and so forth. Father wasn't expectin anything, but you left him
a new pair of mittens, and Mother got a new fur boa to wear
to meetin'. Of course, said Santa Claus. I never forgot father an
mother. Well, it was as much as I could do to lay still,
continued Joel, for I'd been longin for a sled, and the sight
of that red sled with Yankee doodle painted on it just made me wild.
But somehow or other I began to get powerful, sleepy all at once,
and I couldn't keep my eyes open. The next thing I knew, ODIs
was nudging me in the ribs. Get up, Joel says he. It's
Christmas and Santa Claus has been here. Merry Christmas. Merry Christmas, we
cried as we tumbled out of bed. Then Alvirah and Thankful came in not
more'n half dressed, and Susan came in too, and we just made rome
howl with Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas to each other. If you children don't
make less noise in there, cried father, I'll have to send you all
back to bed. The idea of asking boys and girls to keep quiet on
Christmas morning when they've got new sleds and garlands of friendship. Santa Claus chuckled
his rosy cheeks fairly beamed joy. Otis and I didn't want any breakfasts,
said Joel. We made up our minds that a stockin full of candy and
popcorn and raisins would stay us for a while. I do believe there wasn't
buckwheat cakes enough in the township to keep us indoors that morning. Buckwheat cakes
don't size up much longside of a red sled with Yankee doodle painted onto it,
and a black sled named Snow Queen. We didn't care how cold it
was, so much the better for slidin downhill. All the boys had new
sleds Laife Dawson, Bill Holbrook, Gum Adams, Rube, Playford, Leander,
Merrick, Ezra Purple, all on em had new sleds. Septin Martin
Peevee, and he said he countulated Santa Claus had skipped him this year,
cause his father had broke his leg haulin logs from the Pelham Woods and had
been kept in doors six weeks. But Martin had his old sled, and
he didn't have to ask any odds of any of us neither. I brought
Martin a sled the next Christmas, said Santa Claus, like as not,
But did you ever slide down hill? Santa Claus? I don't mean such
hills as they have out here in this new country, but one of them,
old fashioned New England hills that was made specially for boys to slide down,
full of bumpers an thankye barms, an about ten times longer comin up
than it is goin down. The wind blew in our faces and almost took
our breath away. Merry Christmas to ye little boys, it seemed to say,
And it untied our mufflers and whirled the snow in our faces, just
as if it was a boy too and wanted to play with us. An
old crow came flappin over us from the cornfield beyond the meadow. He said,
aw cool when he saw my new sled. I s'pose he'd never seen
a red one before. Otis had a hard time with his sled, the
black one, and he wondered why it wouldn't go as fast as mine would
have. You scraped the paint off in the runners, ask Grasslely. Good.
Now, course, I have said Otis broke my own knife and loot
Ingram's a doin it, But it don't seem to make no difference. The
darned old thing won't go. Then what did Simon Buzzle say, but that
like it's not It was because Otis's sled's name was snow Queen. Never did
see a girl sled that was worth a cent anyway, says Simon. Well,
now that just about broke Otis up in business. It ain't a girl
sled, says he, and his name ain't snow Queen, I'm a gonna
call it Daniel Webster or Ulver Optic, or Sheriff Robbins or after some other
big man. And the boys plagued him so much about that pesky girl sled
that he scratched off the name. And I remember it did go better after
that. About the only thing, continued Joel, that marred the harmony of
the occasion, as the editor of the Hampshire County Phoenix used to say,
was the ashes that Deacon Morris Frisbee sprinkled out in front of his house.
He said he wasn't going to have folks breaking their necks just on account of
a lot of frivolous boys that was going to the gallows as fast as they
could. Oh how we hated him, and we'd have snowballed him too,
if we hadn't been afraid of the constable that lived next door. But the
ashes didn't bother us much, And every time we slid side settled, we'd
give the ashes a kick, and that sort of scattered him. The bear
thought of this made Santa Claus laugh. Going on about nine o'clock, said
Joel. The girls come along, Sister Elvirah, and thankful Prudence Tucker,
Belle, Yocum, Sophrony, Holbrook, Sis Hubbard, and Marthy Sawyer.
Marthy's brother Increase, wanted her to write on his sled, but Marthy allowed
that a red sled was her choice. Every time. I don't see how
I'm gonna hold on, said Marthy. Seems as if I would have my
hands full keeping my things from blowing away. Don't worry about yourself, Marthy
says I. For if you'll look after your things, I kind of calculate
I'll manage not to lose you on the way, Dear Marthy. Seems as
if I could see you now, with your tangled hair of blowin in the
wind, your eyes all bright and sparkling in your cheeks as red as apples.
Seems too, as if I could hear you laughing and calling, just
as you did as I toiled up the old New England hill that Christmas Mornin'.
A callin, Joel, Joel, Joel. Ain't you ever comin,
Joel? But the heel is long and steep, Marthy, and Joel ain't
the boy he used to be. He's old and gray and feeble, but
there's love and faith in his heart. And they kind of keep him tottering
toward the voice. He hears a callin Joel, Joel, Joel. I
know, I see it all, murmured Santa Claus, very softly. Oh
that was so long ago, sighed Joel, So very long ago, and
I've had no Christmas since, only once, when our little one Marthy's in
mine. You remember him, Santa Claus, Yes, said Santa Claus.
A toddlin little boy with blue eyes like his mother, interrupted Joel. And
he was like her too, so gentle and loving. Only we called him
Joel, for that was my father's name, and it kind of run in
the family. He want more than three years old when you came with your
Christmas presents for him, Santa Claus. We had told him about you,
and he used to go to the chimney every night and make a little prayer
about what he wanted you to bring him. And you brought him too,
a stick horse and a picture book and some blocks and a drum. They're
on the shelf in the closet there, and his little Christmas stalkin with him.
I've saved them all, and I've taken him down and held him in
my hands. Oh so many times. But when I came again, said
Santa Claus, his little bed was empty and I was alone. It killed
his mother, Marthy was so tender hearted she kinda drooped and pined after that.
So now they've been asleep side by side in the buryin' ground these thirty
years. That's why I'm so sad like whenever Christmas comes, said Joel,
after a pause. The thinking of long ago makes me bitter almost. It's
so different now from what it used to be, No, Joel, Oh
no, said Santa Claus. Tis the same world, and human nature is
the same and always will be. But Christmas is for the little folks,
and you, who are old and grizzled now, must know it and love
it only through the gladness it brings the little ones, true, groaned Joel.
But how may I know and feel this gladness when I have no little
stocking hanging in my chimney corner, no child to please me with his prattle.
See, I am alone. No, you are not alone, Joel,
said Santa Claus. There are children in this great city who would love
and bless you for your goodness if you but touched their hearts. Make them
happy, Joel, send by me this night, some gift to the little
boy in the old house yonder he is poor and sick. A simple toy
will fill his Christmas with gladness. His little sister too, Take her some
presents, said Joel. Make them happy for me, Santa Claus, you
are right, make them happy for me. How sweetly Joel slept. When
he awoke, the sunlight streamed in through the window and seemed to bid him
a merry Christmas. How contented and happy Joel felt it must have been the
talk with Santa Claus that did it all. He had never known a sweeter
sense of peace. A little girl came out of the house over the way.
She had a new doll in her arms, and she sang a merry
little song, and she laughed with joy as she skipped along the street.
I And at the window sat the little sick boy, and the toy Santa
Claus left him seemed to have brought him strength and health, for his eyes
sparkled and his cheeks glowed, and it was plain to see his heart was
full of happiness. And oh, how the chimes did ring out, and
how joyfully they sang their Christmas carol. That morning they sang of Bethlehem and
the Manger and the Babe. They sang of love and charity, till all
the Christmas air seemed full of angel voices, Carol of the Christmas Morn,
Carol of the christ Child born, Carol to the listening sky till it echoes
back again. Glory be to God on high, Peace on earth, good
will toward men. So all this music, the carol of the chimes,
the sound of children's voices, the smile of the poor little boy over the
way, all this sweet music crept into Joel's heart that Christmas morning. Yes,
and with these sweet holy influences came others, so subtle and divine that,
in its silent communion with them, Joel's heart cried out, Amen and
Amen to the glory of the Christmas Time. End of Joel's talk was Santa
Claus by Eugene Field