A Holiday's Dream, After Too Much Egg Nog


A Holiday’s Dream., After Too Much Egg Nog.

“I dreamed” I went to “Marble Hall”
A suit of Clothes to buy,
But when I wakened up again,
I found I’d dreamed a lie.
For there to my expectant gaze,
My seedy garment still appear,
In “injured innocence” display
The sequence of a “gay New Year.”
The “trowsis” have gone on a “bust”—
Especially about the knees—
Which with the utmost coolness say,
“You may ‘darn’ me if you please.”
Asking why there covering is so scanty,
When shin-plasters are so plenty?
My elbows, too, have grown so stout,
They’re always “able to be out.”
My pants are real secessionists,
For they’re seceded from my vest,
The space between, in spite of fate,
Insists on forming a new State.
And since good names are rather scant,
I’ve called that state the State of Want.
For all the force of Abram’s might,
Could never make them re-unite,
Since if they’d meet in the old place
They’d split a dozen more for spite.
And so, to have my dream come true,
To Marble Hall I went,
And got a splendid suit of clothes
For little money spent;
Went straight way home, and said to “Sue,”
“Behold your darling John,”
“I’ll Jaw(n) you sir,” she says, and so
She really did, I’ll swear.
As I and another three-legged stool
Went sprawling down the stair.
The children hid, Sue screamed aloud,
But when she heard me groan,
She came to see me—woman like—
And found I was her John.
She took me up and my sore head,
Unto her bosom pressed;
But half believed me some one else,
Until I was undressed.
Now, I am “right side up with care,”
I have a word for all;
Whoever wants good clothes and cheap,
Go straight to Marble Hall.
But lest your pride should get a fall,
Before to buy you go;
If you’ve a wife as true as mine,
You’d better let her know.

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