When what to my long anxious eyes should appear

But a horse and a sleigh, both old-fashioned and queer;

With a little old driver, so solemn and slow,

I knew at a glance it must be Dr Brough.

I drew in my head, and was turning around,

When upstairs came the Doctor, with scarcely a sound,

He wore a thick overcoat, made long ago,

And the beard on his chin was white with the snow.

He spoke a few words, and went straight to his work;

He felt all the pulses,—then turned with a jerk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

With a nod of his head to the chimney he goes:—

“A spoonful of oil, ma’am, if you have it handy;

No nuts and no raisins, no pies and no candy.

These tender young stomachs cannot well digest

All the sweets that they get; toys and books are the best.

But I know my advice will not find many friends,

For the custom of Christmas the other way tends.

The fathers and mothers, and Santa Claus, too,

Are exceedingly blind. Well, a good-night to you!”

And I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight:

These feastings and candies make Doctors’ bills right!”

{Note: You can read an illustrated version of this story, plus other Christmas fairy tales, in our collection Christmas Tales: The Night Before Christmas and 21 Other Illustrated Christmas Stories, now available for Amazon Kindle and paperback}