The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley in ten volumes |
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WHO SANTY CLAUS WUZ |
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 | The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley |  |
1346
WHO SANTY CLAUS WUZ
Jes' a little bit o' feller—I remember still,—
Ust to almost cry fer Christmas, like a youngster will.
Fourth o' July's nothin' to it!—New-Year's ain't a smell:
Easter-Sunday—Circus-Day—jes' all dead in the shell!
Lordy, though! at night, you know, to set around an hear
The old folks work the story off about the sledge and deer,
And “Santy” skootin' round the roof, all wrapped in fur and fuzz—
Long afore
I knowed who
“Santy Claus” wuz!
Ust to almost cry fer Christmas, like a youngster will.
Fourth o' July's nothin' to it!—New-Year's ain't a smell:
Easter-Sunday—Circus-Day—jes' all dead in the shell!
Lordy, though! at night, you know, to set around an hear
The old folks work the story off about the sledge and deer,
And “Santy” skootin' round the roof, all wrapped in fur and fuzz—
Long afore
I knowed who
“Santy Claus” wuz!
Ust to wait, and set up late, a week or two ahead:
Couldn't hardly keep awake, ner wouldn't go to bed:
Kittle stewin' on the fire, and Mother settin' here
Darnin' socks, and rockin' in the skreeky rockin'-cheer;
Pap gap', and wunder where it wuz the money went,
And quar'l with his frosted heels, and spill his liniment:
And me a-dreamin' sleigh-bells when the clock 'ud whir and buzz,
Long afore
I knowed who
“Santy Claus” wuz!
Couldn't hardly keep awake, ner wouldn't go to bed:
Kittle stewin' on the fire, and Mother settin' here
Darnin' socks, and rockin' in the skreeky rockin'-cheer;
1347
And quar'l with his frosted heels, and spill his liniment:
And me a-dreamin' sleigh-bells when the clock 'ud whir and buzz,
Long afore
I knowed who
“Santy Claus” wuz!
Size the fireplace up, and figger how “Old Santy” could
Manage to come down the chimbly, like they said he would:
Wisht that I could hide and see him—wundered what he'd say
Ef he ketched a feller layin' fer him thataway!
But I bet on him, and liked him, same as ef he had
Turned to pat me on the back and say, “Look here, my lad,
Here's my pack,—jes' he'p yourse'f, like all good boys does!”
Long afore
I knowed who
“Santy Claus” wuz!
Manage to come down the chimbly, like they said he would:
Wisht that I could hide and see him—wundered what he'd say
Ef he ketched a feller layin' fer him thataway!
But I bet on him, and liked him, same as ef he had
Turned to pat me on the back and say, “Look here, my lad,
Here's my pack,—jes' he'p yourse'f, like all good boys does!”
Long afore
I knowed who
“Santy Claus” wuz!
Wisht that yarn wuz true about him, as it 'peared to be—
Truth made out o' lies like that 'un's good enough fer me!—
Wisht I still wuz so confidin' I could jes' go wild
Over hangin' up my stockin's, like the little child
Climbin' in my lap to-night, and beggin' me to tell
'Bout them reindeers, and “Old Santy” that she loves so well
I'm half sorry fer this little-girl-sweetheart of his—
Long afore
She knows who
“Santy Claus” is!
Truth made out o' lies like that 'un's good enough fer me!—
Wisht I still wuz so confidin' I could jes' go wild
Over hangin' up my stockin's, like the little child
1348
'Bout them reindeers, and “Old Santy” that she loves so well
I'm half sorry fer this little-girl-sweetheart of his—
Long afore
She knows who
“Santy Claus” is!
| The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley | |