King John's Christmas

KING JOHN’S CHRISTMAS King John was not a good man— “I want some crackers, He had his little ways. And I want some candy; And sometimes no one spoke to him I think a box of chocolates “I did want crackers, For days and days and days. Would come in handy; And I did want candy; And men who came across him, I don’t mind oranges, I know a box of chocolates When walking in the town, I do like nuts! Would come in handy; Gave him a supercilious stare, And I SHOULD like a pocket-knife I do love oranges, Or passed with noses in the air— That really cuts. I did want nuts! And bad King John stood dumbly there, And, oh! Father Christmas, if you love me at I haven’t got a pocket-knife—not one Blushing beneath his crown. all, that cuts. Bring me a big, red, india-rubber ball!” And, oh! if Father Christmas, had loved me at all, King John was not a good man— He would have brought a big, red, india- He wrote this message out, rubber ball!” And gat him to his room again, Descending by the spout. King John stood by the window, And all that night he lay there, And frowned to see below A prey to hopes and fears. The happy bands of boys and girls “I think that’s him a-coming now!” All playing in the snow. (Anxiety bedewed his brow.) A while he stood there watching, “He’ll bring one present, anyhow— And envying them all … King John was not a good man, The first I’ve had for years.” When through the window big and red And no good friends had he. There hurtled by his royal head, He stayed in every afternoon… “Forget about the crackers, And bounced and fell upon the bed, But no one came to tea. And forget about the candy; An india-rubber ball! And, round about December, I’m sure a box of chocolates The cards upon his shelf Would never come in handy; Which wished him lots of Christmas cheer, I don’t like oranges, And fortune in the coming year, I don’t want nuts, Were never from his near and dear, And I HAVE got a pocket-knife But only from himself. That almost cuts. But, oh! Father Christmas, if you love me at King John was not a good man, all, Yet had his hopes and fears. Bring me a big, red, india-rubber ball!” They’d given him no present now For years and years and years. King John was not a good man— But every year at Christmas, Next morning when the sun While minstrels stood about, Rose up to tell a waiting world Collecting tribute from the young That Christmas had begun, For all the songs they might have sung, And people seized their stockings, He stole away upstairs and hung And opened them with glee, A hopeful stocking out. And crackers, toys and games appeared, And lips with sticky sweets were smeared, King John was not a good man, King John said grimly: “As I feared, He lived his live aloof; Nothing again for me!” Alone he thought a message out While climbing up the roof. He wrote it down and propped it Against the chimney stack: AND, OH, FATHER CHRISTMAS, “TO ALL AND SUNDRY—NEAR AND MY BLESSINGS ON YOU FALL FAR— FOR BRINGING HIM F. CHRISTMAS IN PARTICULAR.” A BIG, RED, And signed it not “Johannes R.” INDIA-RUBBER But very humbly, “JACK.” BALL! A. A. Milne From Now We Are Six A.A. MILNE Alan Alexander Milne was born in London on January 18, 1882, the third and youngest son of a schoolmaster. At age eleven, he won a scholarship to the Westminster School. He went on to attend Cambridge University and became the editor of the undergraduate paper, Granta. After graduating from Cambridge in 1903, Milne moved back to London with enough savings to live for one year. He was determined to become a writer. By 1906, he had been offered the position of Assistant Editor at Punch, a classic British humour magazine. He remained at Punch for the next eight years. In 1913, Milne married Dorothy de Selincourt (known as Daphne) and moved to a house in London's Chelsea section. When World War I broke out, he enlisted in the Royal Warwickshire Regiment, eventually serving in France. During his training period, he wrote his first play, Wurzel-Flummery, which was produced in London in 1917. By 1919, having completed one book and several plays, Milne finally achieved financial independence. His play, Mr. Pim Passes By, previously staged in London, was produced by the Theatre Guild in New York City. It was as great a success there as it had been on the London stage. Milne was now well established as a witty and fashionable London playwright. In 1920, Christopher Robin Milne was born, an event that was to change the history of children's literature. In 1923, during a rainy holiday in Wales, Milne began work on a collection of verses for children. The result was When We Were Very Young, published in 1924. Demand for Milne's whimsical work was overwhelming, and in 1926, he duplicated his earlier success with the publication of Winnie-the-Pooh. The sequel, The House at Pooh Corner, followed in 1927. Now We Are Six, another charming collection of verse, followed one year later. It was through these four books, all illustrated by the wonderfully talented Ernest H. Shepard, that Milne acquired a vast audience outside of the theatre. In the years since their initial publication, interest in these books has grown and grown. Milne continued to be a prolific essayist, novelist, and poet until his death in 1956. .

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