 | Songs of two centuries |  |
15
THE OLD CHRISTMAS DINNER.
One ol'-fashioned Chris'mas dinner's wuth a dozen nowadays,
That delivered by instalments, in the sleek new-fangled ways.
Take me back, O almanac! to the time when sev'ral “courses”
Come together in a bunch, an' united all their forces!
'Twas a time when, j'ined together, old an' young an' saint an' sinner
Could be found all gathered round one ol'-fashioned Chris'mas dinner!
[Thus said Ahab Adams, merchant, from a stress of thought to free him,
To his brother Shubal Adams, who had come from Maine to see him.]
That delivered by instalments, in the sleek new-fangled ways.
Take me back, O almanac! to the time when sev'ral “courses”
Come together in a bunch, an' united all their forces!
'Twas a time when, j'ined together, old an' young an' saint an' sinner
Could be found all gathered round one ol'-fashioned Chris'mas dinner!
[Thus said Ahab Adams, merchant, from a stress of thought to free him,
To his brother Shubal Adams, who had come from Maine to see him.]
Oft I think that dinner over—how once more I'd like to try it!
But, you see, it can't be managed: all my money wouldn't buy it.
Can't fetch back the old-time frame-work; can't arrange the proper meetin':
Most of all the folks I'd ask there, long ago has quit their eatin'.
But, you see, it can't be managed: all my money wouldn't buy it.
Can't fetch back the old-time frame-work; can't arrange the proper meetin':
Most of all the folks I'd ask there, long ago has quit their eatin'.
First I'd want a slice o' winter that would fetch out what was in you:
Air a haft o' glitterin' blades sharp as if they meant to skin you;
Froze-up cloud-boats near the hills, tryin' hard to make a landin',
Trees with snow-white blankets on, sleepin', like the hosses, standin';
Fences peakin' through the drifts, clear plate-glass across the river—
All the chimneys breathin' steam crawlin' upward with a shiver;
Sun a yellow chunk of ice—failed to furnish any heatin',
An' remains for nothin', 'cept to be present at the meetin';
Critters in the barn sharp-set as they was before you fed 'em;
Snow an' frost unusual sassy—yell out ev'ry time you tread 'em.
That would be a val'ble mornin', wuth the trouble of appr'isin'!
Glad that Chris'mas happened 'round, on a day so appetizin'!
Air a haft o' glitterin' blades sharp as if they meant to skin you;
Froze-up cloud-boats near the hills, tryin' hard to make a landin',
Trees with snow-white blankets on, sleepin', like the hosses, standin';
Fences peakin' through the drifts, clear plate-glass across the river—
All the chimneys breathin' steam crawlin' upward with a shiver;
Sun a yellow chunk of ice—failed to furnish any heatin',
An' remains for nothin', 'cept to be present at the meetin';
Critters in the barn sharp-set as they was before you fed 'em;
Snow an' frost unusual sassy—yell out ev'ry time you tread 'em.
That would be a val'ble mornin', wuth the trouble of appr'isin'!
Glad that Chris'mas happened 'round, on a day so appetizin'!
Then I'd want our Dad on deck—up-an'-down as last year's cider—
Made us toe the mark, you know—but a fust-class good provider:
When he slung his banner out—“Come an' hev a Chris'mas dinner”,
Ev'ry one that got the word knowed his stomach was a winner.
How they hus'led through the snow!—horses kep' their bells a-ringin',
Runners creakin' like a sign—gals a-cacklin' an' a-singin';
Ol' folks wrapped up double-bulk—baby-bundles half a dozen—
Dogs that wouldn't have thanked the dogs of the king to call 'em cousin!
So I'd hev 'em come an' come, ere the morning hour was through with;
Come in wagon-loads on runners—more than we knowed what to do with!
Made us toe the mark, you know—but a fust-class good provider:
When he slung his banner out—“Come an' hev a Chris'mas dinner”,
Ev'ry one that got the word knowed his stomach was a winner.
How they hus'led through the snow!—horses kep' their bells a-ringin',
Runners creakin' like a sign—gals a-cacklin' an' a-singin';
16
Dogs that wouldn't have thanked the dogs of the king to call 'em cousin!
So I'd hev 'em come an' come, ere the morning hour was through with;
Come in wagon-loads on runners—more than we knowed what to do with!
Mother—wouldn't I hev her there?—would I—well, somehow or other,
I hain't learned so I kin speak stiddy yet, concernin' Mother.
I see times that I would give half my days of growin' older,
For a half an hour of her, with her gray head on my shoulder.
[Thus said Ahab Adams, merchant, proud of his success, with reason,
And his good financial prospects growing brighter every season.]
When the folks was all set down, then, a proper need confessin',
I would hev Gran'father Jones ask a good ol'-fashioned blessin'.
Not a short, impatient one, such as often I hear muttered,
But a long one, that improved appetites while bein' uttered.
I would hev the vict'als there, on the start, as fur as able,
An' wouldn't dare to waste a prayer on a bare and empty table.
“Now, take hold an' help yourselves!” father'd say, with kind inflections;
An' the crowd that set around wouldn't need no more directions.
I hain't learned so I kin speak stiddy yet, concernin' Mother.
I see times that I would give half my days of growin' older,
For a half an hour of her, with her gray head on my shoulder.
[Thus said Ahab Adams, merchant, proud of his success, with reason,
And his good financial prospects growing brighter every season.]
When the folks was all set down, then, a proper need confessin',
I would hev Gran'father Jones ask a good ol'-fashioned blessin'.
Not a short, impatient one, such as often I hear muttered,
But a long one, that improved appetites while bein' uttered.
I would hev the vict'als there, on the start, as fur as able,
An' wouldn't dare to waste a prayer on a bare and empty table.
“Now, take hold an' help yourselves!” father'd say, with kind inflections;
An' the crowd that set around wouldn't need no more directions.
Though they all had journeyed far, ere the clock said half a minute,
Uncle Tom would make first base 'fore the others could begin it.
Uncle Jake could eat the most, through his ways discreet and subtle;
Aunt Melinda's knife would fly, swifter than a weaver's shuttle.
Cousin Ruth would pick her plate, every bit of food espyin';
Neighbor Spoon would very soon hev a wishbone up a-dryin'.
Cider-apple-sauce too strong would make Deacon Wilson hazy;
Cousin Sammy'd eat mince pie till he drove his mother crazy.
Forty others, more or less, caperin' round in Chris'mas clover,
Makin' friendships still more strong—healin' former fusses over;
Knives a-flashin', plates a-crashin', pewter spoons an' forks a-jinglin';
Ev'rything by chance contrived for to set your blood a-tinglin';
All as cozy as cud be, in a happiness bewild'rin';
Oh, if Christ could come in there, He'd hev said, “Keep at it, children!”
Uncle Tom would make first base 'fore the others could begin it.
Uncle Jake could eat the most, through his ways discreet and subtle;
Aunt Melinda's knife would fly, swifter than a weaver's shuttle.
Cousin Ruth would pick her plate, every bit of food espyin';
Neighbor Spoon would very soon hev a wishbone up a-dryin'.
Cider-apple-sauce too strong would make Deacon Wilson hazy;
Cousin Sammy'd eat mince pie till he drove his mother crazy.
Forty others, more or less, caperin' round in Chris'mas clover,
Makin' friendships still more strong—healin' former fusses over;
Knives a-flashin', plates a-crashin', pewter spoons an' forks a-jinglin';
Ev'rything by chance contrived for to set your blood a-tinglin';
All as cozy as cud be, in a happiness bewild'rin';
Oh, if Christ could come in there, He'd hev said, “Keep at it, children!”
[Thus said merchant Ahab Adams, with rich presents to him clinging,
While in Christmas peals and chimes, all the city-bells were singing;
And he sank in thoughtful reverie—tried with all his might to guess
Why his joy was so much greater when his wealth was so much less;
How new splendors and rich banquets could not satisfy the inner
Soul and body, like the dear sweet old-fashioned Christmas dinner!]
While in Christmas peals and chimes, all the city-bells were singing;
And he sank in thoughtful reverie—tried with all his might to guess
Why his joy was so much greater when his wealth was so much less;
How new splendors and rich banquets could not satisfy the inner
Soul and body, like the dear sweet old-fashioned Christmas dinner!]
| Songs of two centuries | |