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It
was eight by the clock, and the little ones departed up to cosy
Beddy House, tired and happy-hearted,
Up the shadowy stairs they went, and in through Sleepy Door,
Wondering what old Santa Claus had for them in store. It was twelve
by the clock, and still I lingered on,
For my work was not completed, the verses were not done;
And fast flew my pen across the pages white,
While the old clock ticked beside me as I toiled into the night.
Then I heard the sound of voices, little feet outside my door, Knick!
knock! pitter! pat! fast across the floor;
And suddenly the door flew wide, and in there came to me the little
fairy people in a goodly company.
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