Jest' Fore Christmas

Father calls me William, sister calls me Will,
Mother calls me Willie, but the fellers call me Bill!
Mighty glad I ain't a girl... ruther be a boy,
Without them sashes, curls, an' things that's worn by Fauntleroy!
Love to chawnk green apples an' go swimmin' in the lake...
Hate to take the castor-ile they give for belly-ache!
'Most all the time, the whole year round, there ain't no flies on me.
But jest 'fore Christmas, I'm as good as I kin be!

Got a yeller dog named Spot, sick him on the cat;
First thing she knows she doesn't know where she is at!
Got a clipper sled, an' when us kids goes out to slide,
'Long comes the grocery cart, an' we all hook a ride!
But sometimes when the grocery man is worried and cross,
He reaches at us with his whip, an' larrups up his hoss,
An' then I laff an' holler, "Oh ye never teched me!"
But jest 'fore Christmas, I'm as good as I kin be!

Gran'ma says she hope than when I git to be a man,
I'll be a missionarer like her oldest brother Dan,
As was et by cannibuls that lives in Ceylon's Isle,
Where every prospeck pleases, an' only man is vile!
But Gran'ma she has never been to see a Wild West show,
Nor read the Life of Daniel Boone, or else I guess she'd know
That Buff'lo Bill and cowboys is good enough for me!
Excep'  jest 'fore Christmas, I'm as good as I kin be!

And then old Spot he hangs around, so solemn-like an' still,
His eyes they keep a-sayin': "What's the matter, little Bill?"
The old cat sneaks down off her perch an' wonders what's become
of them two enemies of hern that used to make things hum!
But I am so perlite an'   'tend so earnestly to biz,
That Mother says to Father: "How improved our Willy is!"
But Father, havin' been a boy hisself, suspicions me
When jest 'fore Christmas, I'm as good as I kin be!

For Christmas, with its lots an' lots of candies, cakes, an' toys,
Was made, they say, for proper kids an' not for naughty boys;
So wash yer face an' bresh your hair an' mind yer p's and q's,
An' don't bust out your pantaloons, an' don't wear out yer shoes;
Say "Yessum" to the ladies, an' "Yessur" to the men,
An' when they's company, don't pass your plate for pie again;
But, thinking of the things yer'd like to see upon on that tree,
Jest 'fore Christmas, be as good as yer kin be!

Author: Eugene Field


The music on this site is copyrighted
by the respective artists and is placed 
here for entertainment purposes only. 
Please support these artists and purchase their music. 


The page layouts,
website and some graphics
on the website, have been designed by and
© Copyright 1994 SusieA1114

 

I hope you have enjoyed these pages.
A small donation would help with the expense of maintaining the web site. 
You may send a donations directly to me
instead of going through companies that take a percentage of the donation. 
Even a small amount will help pay for the rising cost 
of having a family safe web site to view. 
Music to listen to with out a commercial. 
Your support in any amount is very much appreciated!
Thank you in advance. 
You can send check, cash or money order made out to 

Susie Davis
P.O. Box 386
Boonville IN 47601

Tell a friend:

MAIN INDEX