It is winter out there, and it is
winter, too, in this heart of mine. Yet in this Christmas season I
think of them, and it pleaseth me--God forbid that I offend with much
speaking--it pleaseth me to tell of the little things they did and
loved. And you shall understand it all if, perchance, this sacred
Christmas time a little Mistress Merciless of your own, or a little
Master Sweetheart, clingeth to your knee and sanctifieth your
hearth-stone.
When of an evening all the joy of day was done, would our little
Mistress Merciless fall aweary; and then her eyelids would grow
exceeding heavy and her little tired hands were fain to fold. At such
a time it was my wont to beguile her weariness with little tales of
faery, or with the gentle play that sleepy children like. Much was her
fancy taken with what I told her of the train that every night
whirleth away to Shut-Eye Town, bearing unto that beauteous country
sleepy little girls and boys. Nor would she be content until I told
her thereof,--yes, every night whilst I robed her in her cap and gown
would she demand of me that tale of Shut-Eye Town, and the wonderful
train that was to bear her thither. Then would I say in this wise:
At Bedtime-ville there is a train of cars that waiteth for you, my
sweet,--for you and for other little ones that would go to quiet,
slumbrous Shut-Eye Town.
But make no haste; there is room for all. Each hath a tiny car that is
snug and warm, and when the train starteth each car swingeth
soothingly this way and that way, this way and that way, through all
the journey of the night.
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