"It may be late and stormy and cold
When Santa Claus reaches our street;
And Santa, you know, is very old,
So I'll leave him something to eat."
"And what do you think he would like, dear heart,"
"Something nice and sweet," she said;
"Jelly and jam, and a cranberry tart,
And a _teenty_ piece of bread!"
So there on the sideboard is Santa's feast,
Which her own small hands have spread;
Jelly and jam,--three kinds at least,
And a tart--but _where is the bread_?"