From the Evening Star, December 24, 1912. By Philander Johnson. There’s a Santa Claus in pictures with a reindeer and a sleigh And a smile so bright and happy that it drives all care away; A man with a conveyance and a span of reindeer light And a store of treasure big enough for every child’s delight. There’s a man who boards a car with bundles six feet long by two And has his hat pushed off by people who are passing through, But he smiles, while in determined mood again he sets his jaws. The fellow with the bundle is the real life Santa Claus. There’s a man who climbs a ladder when the daily toil is done And hangs up toys and trimmings to help out the day of fun. His collar’s sadly wilted and his hair is all awry And he tears his brand-new trousers on a nail while passing by. He nails and saws and hammers and he doesn’t mind the work; The hours are swiftly flying and he doesn’t dare to shirk. He hums a little ditty while he hammers, nails, and saws— The fellow with the workshop is the real life Santa Claus.