Pa and Santy Claus

Pa says they ain’t no Santy Claus,

Ain’t goin’ to be, an’ never wuz;

He says it’s Tommy rot, this line

Of talk that people hand so fine

About white whiskers an’ all that,

The reindeer scheme an’ fur-lined hat.

He says the quicker sis an’ me

Shake it the better we will be.

The other night I thought I’d show

Pa thet he wuz mistaken, so

I got a suit made out of red,

An’ put a fur hat on my head,

An’ got some cotton, long an’ white

Which to my chin I fastened tight;

An’ then I crept up to his room

Where he wuz snorin’ like a loom.

An' then I hollered “whoa!” Like I

Had stopped my reindeers frum the sky.

Pa woke an’ sat right up in bed

An' rubbed his eyes an’ scratched his head;

An’ then he ast me who I wuz,

An’ I, I says, “I’m Santy Claus;

I’ve got a present here for you,”

An' from my bag I quickly drew

A pipe an’ some tobacco, jest

The kind I knew he liked the best.

An’ then I said, “good night”, an’ I

Turned to the window, handy by.

An’ then pas says, “hol’ on,” says he

“You’re jest the man I wanter see.

I’ve got a girl an’ boy, I jings,

Now is the time to order things.

“Ol’ Santy Claus, I’m glad,” says he,

“You  happened round an’ called on me;

Now take your notebook an’ your pen,

An’ bring these when you come again.”

Pa ordered that an’ ordered this,

Bright things fur me, an’ things fur sis;

I must have fooled him, I believe,

Becuz we got ‘em Christmas eve!

c. July 17 – Sept. 25, 1911