He had his little ways.
And sometimes no one spoke to him
for days and days and days
And men who came across him
when walking in the town
Gave him a supercilious stare,
or passed with noses in the air
And bad King John stood dumbly there
blushing beneath his crown
King John was not a good man
and no good friends had he
He stayed in every afternoon,
but no one came to tea
And, round about December,
the cards upon his shelf
Which wished him lots of Christmas cheer
and fortune in the coming year
Were never from his near and dear,
but only from himself
King John was not a good man,
yet had his hopes and fears
They’d given him no present now
for years and years and years
But every year at Christmas,
while minstrels stood about
Collecting tribute from the young
for all the songs they might have sung
He stole away upstairs and hung
a hopeful stocking out
King John was not a good man,
he lived his life aloof
Alone he thought a message out
while climbing up the roof
He wrote it down and propped it
against the chimney stack
“TO ALL AND SUNDRY, NEAR AND FAR,
F. CHRISTMAS IN PATICULAR.”
And signed it not “Johannes R.”
But very humbly, “Jack.”
“I want some crackers, and I want some candy;
I think a box of chocolates would come in handy;
I don’t mind oranges, I do like nuts!
And I SHOULD like a pocket-knife that really cuts
And, oh! Father Christmas, if you love me at all.
Bring me a big, red, india-rubber ball!”
King John was not a good man.
He wrote this message out,
And gat him to his room again,
descending by the spout
And all that night he lay there,
a prey to hopes and fears
“I think that’s him a-coming now”
(Anxiety bedewed his brow)
“He’ll bring one present, anyhow --
the first I’ve had for years.”
“Forget about the crackers,
and forget about the candy;
I’m sure a box of chocolates
would never come in handy;
I don’t like oranges, I don’t want nuts,
And I HAVE got a pocket-knife that almost cuts
But, oh! Father Christmas, if you love me at all
Bring me a big, red, india-rubber ball!”
King John was not a good man.
Next morning when the sun
Rose up to tell a waiting world
that Christmas had begun
And people seized their stockings
and opened them with glee
And crackers, toys and games appeared
and lips with sticky sweets were smeared,
King John said grimly: ”As I feared,
“Nothing again for me!”
“I did want crackers, and I did want candy;
I know a box of chocolates would come in handy;
I do love oranges, I did want nuts
I haven’t got a pocket-knife - not one that cuts
And, oh! If Father Christmas had loved me at all,
He would have brought a big, red, india-rubber ball!”
King John stood bt the window,
and frowned to see below
The happy bands of boys and girls
all playing in the snow
A while he stood there watching
and envying them all
When through the window big and red
there hurtled by his royal head
And bounced and fell upon the bed,
an india-rubber ball!
AND. OH, FATHER CHRISTMAS, MY BLESSING ON YOU FALL
FOR BRINGING HIM A BIG, RED, INDIA-RUBBER BALL!
