Christmas On The Farm

Old Christmas days on the farm, them are the days for me!

With miles of deep an’ glistnin’ snow ez clean ez it kin be;

The white an’ silent woodland where the pines are bendin’ low,

With here an’ there a rabbit track a windin’ through the snow.

O Christmas is a happy time in palace or in cot,

At least it is supposed to be, an’ is, ez like ez not;

But Christmas days upon the farm where joy is runnin’ free,

Where old-time Christmas ways are kept, them are the days for me.

There’s all the stockin’s hung across the fireplace big an’ black,

So easy for ol’ Santy Claus to come down with his pack.

While in the city homes I’ve seen the chimneys are so small

It is a wonder Santy Claus kin squeeze down them at all.

There’s all the open country roads where he kin drive his sleigh,

With no electric cars an’ things forever in the way.

There’s all the great big pantrys, too, where he kin stop to eat –

O Christmas days upon the farm, no sir, they can’t be beat.

Then Christmas day there comes the boys an’ girls from here an’ there;

Some from the city, some from the town, they come from everywhere

To eat their Christmas dinners on their good ol daddy’s farm,

Which never seems to lose for them its quaint an’ simple charm.

They know the turkey an’ the sauce an’ golden punkin pies

Are “just like mother used to make”, a Christmas paradise!

O Christmas in the city must be lonesome cold an’ drear

With everyone gone to the farm to hev their Christmas cheer.

Then Christmas night there comes the tree in Grandma’s big front room,

With strings of popcorn, apples, stars an’ candles all abloom;

With Grandpa dressed ez Santy Claus, so dignified an’ tall,

While readin’ off the children’s names, bright presents for them all.

And then the Christmas stories round the back log burnin’ bright,

An’ then the peaceful slumber of a country Christmas night.

O Christmas days in palace halls may very happy be,

But Christmas days upon the farm, them are the days for me.

Aug. 5, 1900