JOHNNY SPEAKS

  The sand-man he’s a jolly old fellow,
  His face is kind and his voice is mellow,
  But he makes your eyelids as heavy as lead,
  And then you got to go off to bed;
    I don’t think I like the sand-man.

  But I’ve been playing this livelong day;
  It does make a fellow so tired to play! 
  Oh, my, I’m a-yawning right here before ma,
  I’m the sleepiest fellow that ever you saw. 
    I think I do like the sand-man.

WINTER-SONG

  Oh, who would be sad tho’ the sky be a-graying,
    And meadow and woodlands are empty and bare;
  For softly and merrily now there come playing,
    The little white birds thro’ the winter-kissed air.

  The squirrel’s enjoying the rest of the thrifty,
    He munches his store in the old hollow tree;
  Tho’ cold is the blast and the snow-flakes are drifty
    He fears the white flock not a whit more than we.

  Chorus:

  Then heigho for the flying snow! 
  Over the whitened roads we go,
    With pulses that tingle,
    And sleigh-bells a-jingle
  For winter’s white birds here’s a cheery heigho!

A CHRISTMAS FOLKSONG

  De win’ is blowin’ wahmah,
    An hit’s blowin’ f’om de bay;
  Dey’s a so’t o’ mist a-risin’
    All erlong de meddah way;
  Dey ain’t a hint o’ frostin’
    On de groun’ ner in de sky,
  An’ dey ain’t no use in hopin’
    Dat de snow’ll ’mence to fly. 
      It’s goin’ to be a green Christmas,
        An’ sad de day fu’ me. 
      I wish dis was de las’ one
        Dat evah I should see.

  Dey’s dancin’ in de cabin,
    Dey’s spahkin’ by de tree;
  But dancin’ times an’ spahkin’
    Are all done pas’ fur me. 
  Dey’s feastin’ in de big house,
    Wid all de windahs wide—­
  Is dat de way fu’ people
    To meet de Christmas-tide? 
      It’s goin’ to be a green Christmas,
        No mattah what you say. 
      Dey’s us dat will remembah
        An’ grieve de comin’ day.

  Dey’s des a bref o’ dampness
    A-clingin’ to my cheek;
  De aih’s been dahk an’ heavy
    An’ threatenin’ fu’ a week,
  But not wid signs o’ wintah,
    Dough wintah’d seem so deah—­
  De wintah’s out o’ season,
    An’ Christmas eve is heah. 
      It’s goin’ to be a green Christmas,
        An’ oh, how sad de day! 
      Go ax de hongry chu’chya’d,
        An’ see what hit will say.

  Dey’s Allen on de hillside,
    An’ Marfy in de plain;
  Fu’ Christmas was like springtime,
    An’ come wid sun an’ rain. 
  Dey’s Ca’line, John, an’ Susie,
    Wid only dis one lef’: 
  An’ now de curse is comin’
    Wid murder in hits bref. 
      It’s goin’ to be a green Christmas—­
        Des hyeah my words an’ see: 
      Befo’ de summah beckons
        Dey’s many ’ll weep wid me.