Classic Poem

Now, children, if you will just gather about,
I'll tell you the story of little Tom Doubt.
Just sit on the floor there and look up at me;
Yes, yes, I'll take two of you—one on each knee—

And now I'll begin. Well, this little Tom Doubt
Said he couldn't figure old Santa Claus out.

He said that no reindeer could patter a hoof
Or gallop like mad on his snow-covered roof;
And he said that his chimney he knew was too small
For a white-whiskered saint to get down it at all,
And he didn't believe that the girls and the boys
From Santa Claus ever got candies and toys.

Now little Tom Doubt said: “I'll prove that I'm right;
No letter to Santa Claus this year I'll write.
I want a new sled and I want a new drum,
But I won't let him know that I want him to come.
I'll test out the Santa Claus story this year—
I won't even tell him that I'm living here.”

When he woke in the morning, he found by his bed
The drum that he longed for, the new shiny sled,
And all that he wanted, yet never had told,
And his look of surprise was a joy to behold.
“Why, he's real! He has been here!” cried little. Tom Doubt,
“But however did Santa Claus find all this out?”