"I'VE traveled through the sleet and snow,
Across the country high and low,
To fill the stockings small and great
That here in line my coming wait.
In creeping baby's tiny hose
The india rubber rattle goes;
A handsome doll, with staring eyes,
Will much the little miss surprise;
And what will more delight the boys
Than musket, drum or bugle toys?
And now, before I climb the flue,
I'll bear in mind the mother true,
Who works so hard by day and night
To keep the clothing clean and white,
And in her stocking, long and wide,
Some cakes of IVORY SOAP I'll hide."
If your grocer does not keep the Ivory Soap, send six two-cent stamps,
to pay the postage, to Procter & Gamble, Cincinnati, and they will send
you _free_ a large cake of IVORY SOAP.
* * * * *
Transcriber's Notes:
Punctuation errors repaired.
Page 74, extraneous word "a" removed from text. Original read (We must
_make_ a way to a)