The Gungawamp Donation Party

I don’t suppose there’s ever been

A bigger time outside or in

This good old town of Gungawamp,

Which to my notion is a trump,

Than when we give, some years ago,

That donation to Parson Snow.

That party it was on the tongue

Of ev’ryone both old and young.

Folks talked about it early, late,

While doin’ chore an’ while they ate.

An’ evenin’s down at Stoke’s store,

They talked as ne’er they’d talked afore;

‘Cuz Parson Snow had just been through

Some losses an’ was mighty blue.

An’ so they planned, them party-wise,

To give the Parson a surprise.

Donations were a common thing

In all the neighbor towns, I jing!

But Parson Brown had allus been

So prosp’rous like, an’ free from sin,

He didn’t want donations give;

Was satisfied to preach an’ live.

But now the people one an’ all

Just took it in their heads to call

A big expression of the way

They felt for Parson Snow, an’ they

Just set about it in a scale

That wouldn’t spell no word like “fail”.

They hadn’t money, long an’ green,

In quantities, as will be seen,

But when it came to food an’ stuff,

Why Gungawampers didn’t bluff.

The parsonage was long an’ wide,

An’ properly the village pride;

An’ it was lighted top to toe

Donation night, an’ all aglow

With cheer an’ love an’ fellership

That warn’t the kind to tear or slip.

It was an open house affair,

The town invited to be there, 

An’ when the time arrived you should

Have seen the bright-faced multitude!

They come from ev’ry district dressed

In Sunday go-to-meetin’ best;

They come affot, an’ in sleighs

An’ various other rustic ways,

All bringin’ bundles big an’ small,

Enough to fill a public hall.

Uv course the parson was surprised;

He said he never once surmised.

He asked ‘em in, an’ in they strode,

Until the house was overflowed.

The parson’s wife was so took back

She almost tumbled in her track,

But when her nerves got settled down

She was the gladdest soul in town.

They cleared a room for games, the kind

I allus like to call to mind:

“Post Office”, “Copenhagen”, “Ring”,

An’ “Spin the Plate” an’ ev’rything

From kissin’ games to “Blind Man’s Bluff”,

The first of which warn’t half enough.

O, things warn’t movin’ very slow

Donation night for Parson Snow.

The oldxer women. claimin’ they

Jest wouldn’t be kissed any way,

They fixed the tables long an’ wide,

An’ such a sight you never spied.

Of apples, yellow, green an’ red,

Baked beans done to a turn, they said;

An’ custard, apple, pumpkin pies

Cold Hams of most enormous size.

An’ chicken pies an’ cakes galore

An’ jams an’ jellies bu the score.

An’ tea an’ coffee steamin’ nigh,

With doughnuts piled 12 inches high!

O what a temptin’ spread that night

For people with an appetite.

An’ O, it seemed so awful slow,

That blessin’ asked by Parson Snow.

 Donation suppers? Deary me,

Beat anything you’ll ever see;

Such quantities, an’ O, so good,

An’ such a hungry multitude!

But that partic’lar one they said

Beat any Gungy ever hed.

An’ when the gorgeous spread was done

The greatest fun of a;; begun.

The showin’ of the gifts they’d brought

In packages of ev’ry sot;

In baskets, bundles, big an’ small

An’ boxes short an’ boxes tall.

All emptied on the tables where

We’d lately had our scrumpt’ous fare.

An’ half the things you’ll never know

They brought that night to Parson Snow.

Was teas an’ coffees from the store

An’ flour an’ salted fish galore;

Was herrin’, jumbles, carpet tacks,

A bucksaw an’ a brand new axe.

A pair of boots an’ calico

Some overalls an’ glass for show.

Was socks an’ mittens, over shoes

A new plug hat for Sunday use.

Was fifty cents, two dollar bills,

A new jack knife, a box of pills.

An’ some good joker, with regards,

Had smuggled in a deck of cards.

An’ some one of the men folks said

There was a young pig in the shed.

O, that donation was a show!

That Gungy give to Parson Snow.

Now Deacon Shelby said he’d brought

A goodly present which he thought

Would please the Parson and his wife

An’ last ‘em all their happy life.

He took a basket from the floor

An’ pulled to cover off afore

The waitin’ crowd, when out there flew

A settin’ hen, with wings askew. 

She flapped an’ squawked an’ cut the air,

An’ frightened ev’rybody there.

Some ducked and dodged an’ tried to run,

While others jest enjoyed the fun.

The Deacon he was speechless quite,

Then tried to make his

error right.

í vow, I got a-hold,” says he,

‘Uv ‘tother basket, deary me!”

Well by an’ by they caught the hen

An’ quiet was restored again.

The Deacon said he’d bring next day

The gift, an’ ‘twouldn’t fly away.

An’ then ‘twas time to get their wraps

Their robes an’ blankets, hats an’ caps,

An’ say “good night” to Parson Snow

An’ wish ‘em “God-speed”, an’ to go.

It was a merry-hearted band

That took the Parson by the hand

Then trooped off in the moonlit snow

Each father, mother, girl and beau.

The parson looked upon the pile

Of truck with but a sickly smile;

“O Lord,” said he, “please tell me what

I am to do with all this lot?”

Feb. 5, 1910