"To the tourists who flock to the
Isthmus this year,
I shall send rested feet, free from pain;
And then - the two things that all tourists love best,
A Panama hat - and a cane!"
"To the queer little
fish of your tropical seas
Who fly without even one feather,
I will send dancing wavelets with foam-created tips,
And plenty of fine flying weather!"
"For the love birds of
Panama - those with green coats,
Which you know by the name parakeet;
I am sending more Zonites for them to disturb,
And fruits that are juicy and sweet!"
"Your beer gardens, too,
hang up their socks?"
Old Santa inquired, "Well! Well!
To them I am sending a thousand or more
Big barrels of beer to sell!
"Now the Commy moguls;
my gift for them
Is something not shown on their racks;
Not candy, not gum, not clothing nor food -
But hundreds of brown paper sacks!"
"Those poor little
horses that trundle the
Are getting whole mountains of hay.
With a cooling drink to soothe their
At least ten times a day!"
Old Santa looked up as he
finished his list,
Said, "Friend, I guess that's all;
Please take these gifts to Panama,
Where I hope I've pleased them all!"
||"Just say, though I'm
sorry I can't come down
'Cause business keeps me here,
That they're better off with my substitute
Who functions all the year!"
people, you know, have a Santa Claus
Who stays right on the Isthmus;
Who does things for you all year through,
Not only just at Christmas!"
"He listens to your every plea,
(At least when you don't fight him!)
And tries to satisfy your wants
When you sit down and write him."
"You're asking me who
your Santa is?
Your wits, Friend, should work faster;
I call him your C.Z. Santa Claus
You call him your Quartermaster!"
To Our Friends
We hope you'll like this little
Composed by Sue and Anna,
For we're the girls, you know, who do
Your daily Isthmiana;
We hope you'll send it to your
To tell them of our Isthmus,
And wish for them, like we do you -
A Very Merry Christmas
Christmas on the Isthmus
by Sue Core
Dobbs Ferry, N.Y.