Wlliam Gilmore Simms
Stories and Tales >> Maize in Milk: A Christmas Story of the South >> Page 332

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Page 332

Short Stories | U of South Carolina P | 1974
Transcription 332MAIZE IN MILK
"I am here, the Lord Chrystmasse,
Give me welcome, youth and lasse,
For I come to heal trespasse,
Hurtes of soule to heale;
Dieu garden this I bring,
And ye need, with welcoming,
To rejoyce the man I sing,
Come for sinners' weale.

" 'Tis Chryste's coming that ye see,
He who died upon the tree,
That your souls, from sin set free,
Might be his once more;
In this blessing, make your cheere,
Yet of evyl joys beware;
Satan spreads his fatal snare,
Though his sway be o'er:

"Welcome me, the Lord Chrystmasse

Etcetera! The song was hushed in the sound of carriage wheels.
The neighbors had already begun to make their appearance. Sure
enough, there was good old Mr. Bond in his homely " Jersey," and
Susan Bond in her nice white dimity and old-fashioned tippet, and
little Sally, to the delight of Rose, in her faded calico, that sat upon
her rounded limbs like the sack upon her great-grandmother; and
they brought along with them bouncing Joe Dillon, a great chubby-
cheeked lad of one of the farther neighbors, of whom the family at
"Maize-in-Milk" as yet knew nothing. And such a tumbling out of
the frail vehicle as followed, and such a tumbling out of the house to
receive them as took place, is quite beyond description. Mrs. Open-
heart met old Mr. Bond on the threshold, and Bessy Clinton took
charge of Susan, while little Rose led off Sally the little also
followed by the chubby boy at halting paces. And between Bessy
Clinton and Susan Bond, the work of the day began almost instantly.
The myrtle and the holly, the cassina and the bamboo, were instantly
in requisition, and over the great heavy windows and doors, and all
about the huge mirrors and antique family pictures, you could see the
arches, and the wreaths and festoons beginning to grow up in green