Speaker 1: The Goblins Christmas by Elizabeth Anderson. Once upon a time
I visited Fairyland and spent a day in Goblin Town.
The people there are much like ourselves, only they are very,
very small and roguish. They play pranks on one another
and have great fun. They are good natured and jolly,
and rarely get angry. But if one does get angry,
he quickly recovers his good nature and joins again in
the sport. If a goblin should continue angry, he would
take on some visible form. Perhaps he would become a
toad or a squirrel or some other little animal, and
would have to live here on the earth plain for evermore.
But if he keeps good natured, he can come here
and have his fun and not be seen by any
one except a seer or a very wise person. Goblins
are gracious to the wise people now, but they were
not always so. A long long time ago, on a
Christmas Eve, the fairy folk were having great space. All
the little people of the unseen world had gathered together
in the earth realm. There were brownies and gnomes and elves.
Even some little cherubs had joined them. They were having
a wild dance and a gay time. When who should
appear but Chris Kringle. Now the fairies did not know
that he was a magician or seer, and so they
tried to make sport of him. But Chris, by his
wonderful magic, changed them into the most beautiful toys. They
became straight little jumping jacks, and dolls and bright dresses,
and the dearest little rabbit with white soft fur, and
somewhere in the bottom of the sleigh one was turned
into a cute little teddy bear. Then old Chris tucked
all these toys into his roomy sleigh and shook the
reins of his waiting steed. Go on, he said, for
I've many many a chimney to reach to night. Now
this is the tale of the Goblin's Christmas that the
moonbeam told, as they heard it from the fairy Queen,
who declares that every word of it is perfectly true.
The big bright moon hung high and round in a
densely darkened sky. The tall pines swayed and mocked and groaned.
The mountains grew so high that the man in the
moon came out and said, ho, spooks for a merry dance.
The winds blew hard, the caverns roar, while o'er the
earth they prance. A witch and a goblin led the
sprites out from the sky, they sprung, and down the
milky way they slid, and over a chasm, swung the
streams around ran witch's broth. The fumes were strong and rank.
These elfin creatures all were wroth. While of the stuff
they drank. The cunning Moon looked on and laughed with
a shrill and sneering jibe. Her soul grew fat to
see them shaft this mad and elfish tribe. The big
black cauldron boiled so high with food for these queer
mites that it lit the world throughout the sky, and
down came all the sprites. Their mad career upset a star.
As through the air they flew, It cringed in fear,
and shot afar and fell where no one knew. Orion's
sword was broken, bits Corona's crown was gone, Cappella seemed
to lose her wits, while all so longed for dawn.
Then from the night there came a sound of sleigh
bells ringing. Sweet out of the chaos came a man,
Chris Kringle, for his Christmas treat ho Chris they cried,
we'll have some fun. We'll bind the old man down.
We'll tie him up and toss him more into our
goblin town. They climbed the sleigh with shout and din
to bind his hands and feet. A hundred strong, they
clambered in our good old Chris to meet. He sat
quite still with twinkling eyes. Then seized his mystic wand
he raised it up and waved it round. Stilled was
this chattering band, stiffly, stark, and still they stood, clad
in elfish clothes. Some were wax and some were wood.
One had crushed his nose. Playthings rare, he said, and smiled,
for children rich and poor. Some I'll leave the crippled child,
and some at the orphan's door. He shook his reins
and called his steed to bear him swiftly on full well.
It knew its master's need to hurry ere the dawn.
From house to house they scampered down their sleigh, bells
ringing clear through chimneys in the sleepy town Good Chris
and his reindeer. The windows rattled, the moonbeams tattled. A
tale so strange and queer. They told how at night
in dire affright the moon had hid in fear that
he'd called in sport his Elfish court of spooks and witches.
Gay each Elfin child by glee beguiled, brought scores of others,
they say. Then a man appeared with flowing beard in
a sled with reindeer fleet. They gathered about with din
and shout to bind him hands and feet. Then the
moon laughed loud at the gathering crowd, while he held
his sides in mirth to see old Chris in a
plight like this, toiling o'er the earth. But alas for
the moon, he had laughed like a loon, for Chris
is a hero of old. Yes, Chris is a seer.
With his small reindeer, he captured the goblin's and he
changed them, they say, in a wonderful way, to toys
for his Christmas cheer. The big dolls stare with a
goblin air, the small ones cringe with fear, while the
moonbeams prattle. I hear a rattle of hoofs on the
chimney side. Then out on the snow, I gazed below. Hurrah,
it's Chris Kringle, I cried. Then sly as a mouse,
he entered the house, and hung up his treasures so gay.
Then out with a dash he sped like a flash
into the night and away. And of the Goblin's Christmas
by Elizabeth Anderson