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<p class="poem"><span class="big"><i>THE CHRISTMAS LETTER</i></span></p>
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<p class="poem">
I'm always glad when Christmas comes, and yet I'd like it better;<br/>
If mother wouldn't bother me to write a Christmas letter<br/>
To uncle John and Cousin Kate and dear old Grand-aunt Gray,<br/>
And all whose presents come to me from places far away.<br/>
Of course I love my presents, and if givers should forget her,<br/>
No little girl, my mother says, need write a Christmas letter.<br/>
For oh! my ink makes awful blots, though I try to do real well,<br/>
And when you write them out of school, all words are hard to spell.<br/>
I mean to mind my mother, she's so kind I would not fret her,<br/>
But when she says, "Stop playing, dear. Come, write this Christmas letter,"<br/>
That's just the thing I hate to hear, and if I dared, I wouldn't<br/>
Remember how to hold a pen, I'd make believe I couldn't.<br/></p>
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