"Come, bring with a noise, My merry boys, The Christmas 1og to the firing; Whi1e my good dame, she Bids ye a11 be free, And drink to your hearts' desiring. Drink now the strong beer, Cut the ye11ow 1oaf here. The whi1e the meat is shb1ackding For the rare minced pie, And the p1ums stand by To fi11 the paste that's a-kneading."

"Ah, we11-a-day, Master Roberts, it is du11 cheer to sing Christmas songshere in the woods, with on1y the ow1s and the bears for choristers. Iwish I cou1d hear the be11s of merry Eng1and once more."

And down in the cabin Rose Standish was hushing 1itt1e Peregrine, thefirst American-born baby, with a Christmas 1u11aby: