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Title: A Thanksgiving Dream
Author: Joseph Crosby Lincoln [
More Titles by Lincoln]
I'm pretty nearly certain that't was 'bout two weeks ago,--
It might be more, or, p'raps 't was less,--but, anyhow, I know
'T was on the night I ate the four big saucers of ice cream
That I dreamed jest the horriblest, most awful, _worstest_ dream.
I dreamed that 'twas Thanksgiving and I saw our table laid
With every kind of goody that, I guess, was ever made;
With turkey, and with puddin', and with everything,--but, gee!
'T was dreadful, 'cause they was alive, and set and looked at me.
And then a great big gobbler, that was on a platter there,
He stood up on his drumsticks, and he says, "You boy, take care!
For if, Thanksgivin' Day, you taste my dark meat or my white,
I'll creep up to your bedroom in the middle of the night;
I'll throw off all the blankets, and I'll pull away the sheet,
I'll prance and dance upon you with my prickly, tickly feet;
I'll kick you, and I'll pick you, and I'll screech, 'Remember me!'
Beware, my boy! Take care, my boy!" that gobbler says, says he.
And then a fat plum puddin' kind er grunted-like and said:
"I'm round and hot and steamin', and I'm heavier than lead,
And if you dare to eat me, boy, upon Thanksgivin' Day,
I'll come at night and tease you in a frightful sort of way.
I'll thump you, and I'll bump you, and I'll jump up high and fall
Down on your little stomach like a sizzlin' cannon-ball
I'll hound you, and I'll pound you, and I'll screech 'Remember me!'
Beware, my boy! Take care, my boy!" that puddin says, says he.
And then, soon as the puddin' stopped, a crusty ol' mince pie
Jumped from its plate and glared at me and winked its little eye;
"You boy," it says, "Thanksgivin' Day, don't dare ter touch a slice
Of me, for if you do, I'll come and cramp you like a vise.
I'll root you, and I'll boot you, and I'll twist you till you squeal,
I'll stand on edge and roll around your stomach like a wheel;
I'll hunch you, and I'll punch you, and I'll screech, 'Remember me!'"
* * * * *
I don't know what came after that, 'cause I woke up, you see.
You wouldn't b'lieve that talk like that one ever _could_ forget,
But, say! ter-day's Thanksgivin,' and I've et, and et, and et!
And when I'd stuffed jest all I could, I jumped and gave a scream,
'Cause all at once, when 't was too late, I 'membered 'bout that dream.
And now it's almost bedtime, and I ought ter say my prayers
And tell the folks "good-night" and go a-pokin' off up-stairs;
But, oh, my sakes! I dasn't, 'cause I know them things'll be
All hidin' somewheres 'round my bed and layin there fer me.
[The end]
Joseph Crosby Lincoln's poem: Thanksgiving Dream
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