On his back. and he looked like a peddler just opening his pack. his eyes, how they twinkled, his dimples how merry. his cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry. his droll little mouth drawn up like a bow and the chin of his beard like the snow. the stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth. and a wreath. he had a broad face and a little round belly, that shook when he laughed like a bowl full of jelly. he was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf and i laughed when i saw it, in spite of myself. the wink of his eye, twist of his head, had nothing to dread. spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, and filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk. and laying his finger aside of his nose and giving a nod, up the chimney he rose. ....