Speaker 1: 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. An. 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 Grassley. 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