The Christmas season comes apace,
when smiles will hang from every face.
The Christmas spirit for a time,
will make our lives a thing sublime.
Alas, beshrew me, and dodgast!
The Christmas spirit does not last!
A day or two it warms our hearts,
then straightway shrivels and departs;
why does it chase itself so soon,
and leave our lives all out of tune?
It is because we eat too much
of turkey, pudding, pies and such;
the Christmas spirit cannot dwell
where people with dyspepsia yell.
The Christmas morning finds us calm;
the season, like a soothing balm,
has healed the broubles and the cares
that man through weary workdays bears.
We look with kind and loving eyes
upon our smiling fellowguys;
we send some peanuts to the poor,
and think the Spirit will endure.
And then we eat a gorgeous meal,
including turkeys, ducks and veal,
and pies — the kinds that mother made —
and doughnuts, cakes and marmalade.
At night our burdened innards balk,
and through long hours the floor we walk;
and in the morning, cold and gray —
the morning after Christmas day —
we groaning leave the sleepless berth,
and care no hoot, for peace on earth.
And now I spring some good advice,
which followed up, will cut much ice.
Eat humble grub on Christmas Day,
and give the gorgeous things away.
Ogden Standard Examiner (Ogden, Utah) Dec 22, 1920
The Newark Advocate (Newark, Ohio) Dec 23, 1911