An' git a lickin'--p'r'aps, sir--
Jest like the'r daddies used to git
When _they_ was little chaps, sir.

But--lawzee-me!--w'y, I won't care.
I'm jest so glad they're comin',
I have to whistle to the tune
That my ol' heart's a-hummin'.
An' me an' Mammy--well, we think
It's good to be a-livin',
Sence all the children's comin' home
To spend the day Thanksgivin'.




PRAISE-GOD BAREBONES

BY ELLEN MACKAY HUTCHINSON CORTISSOZ


I and my cousin Wildair met
And tossed a pot together--
Burnt sack it was that Molly brewed,
For it was nipping weather.
'Fore George! To see Dick buss the wench
Set all the inn folk laughing!
They dubbed him pearl of cavaliers
At kissing and at quaffing.