Thanks, Tim I loved reading this poem by Eugene Field. One lesson I got, as a genealogist, was that people 100-200 years ago and earlier, who might have completed just the 8th grade, a real educational accomplishment in those days, were quite happy to be able to spell even though it was just phonetically. Some of the schools in those days only went to the eighth grade. If you wanted more education, you would have to go away for it. If you finished the 8th grade, and did well, then you were qualified to teach others. We should be glad that they spelled the way they did because that's the reason we have some of the wonderful records that they left behind. It's more than being tolerant. It's being grateful that they were able to record anything in those days. Eugene Field was a great American author. Now, let's see...cemetery or cemetary? Merry Christmas to all. -----Original Message----- From: nycortla-bounces@rootsweb.com [mailto:nycortla-bounces@rootsweb.com] On Behalf Of Tim Stowell Sent: Thursday, December 13, 2007 1:44 AM To: nychenan@rootsweb.com; nymadiso@rootsweb.com; nycortla@rootsweb.com Subject: [NYCORTLA] Jest 'Fore Christmas JEST 'FORE CHRISTMAS Father calls me William, sister calls me Will, Mother calls me Willie, but the fellers call me Bill! Mighty glad I ain't a girl---ruther be a boy, Without them sashes, curls, an' things that's worn by Fauntleroy! Love to chawnk green apples an' go swimmin' in the lake--- Hate to take the castor-ile they give for bellyache! Most all the time, the whole year round, there ain't no flies on me, But jest 'fore Christmas I'm as good as I kin be! Got a yeller dog named Sport, sick him in the cat; First thing she knows she doesn't know where she is at! Got a clipper sled, an' when us kids goes out to slide, 'Long comes the grocery cart, an' we all hook a ride! But sometimes when the grocery man is worrited an' cross, He reaches at us with his whip, an' larrups up his hoss, An' then I laff and holler, "Oh, ye never teched me!" But jest 'fore Christmas I'm as good as I kin be! Gran'ma says she hopes that when I git to be a man, I'll be a missionarer like her oldest brother, Dan, As was et up by the cannibuls that lives in Ceylon's Isle, Where every prospeck pleases, an' only man is vile! But gran'ma she has never been to see a Wild West show, Nor read the Life of Daniel Boone, or else I guess she'd know That Buff'lo Bill an' cow-boys is good enough for me! Excep' jest 'fore Christmas, when I'm good as I kin be! And then old Sport he hangs around, so solemnly an' still, His eyes they seem a-sayin': "What's the matter, little Bill?" The old cat sneaks down off her perch an' wonders what's become Of them two enemies of hern that used to make things hum! But I am so perlite an' 'tend so earnestly to biz, That mother says to father: "How improved our Willie is!" But father, havin' been a boy hisself, suspicions me When, just 'fore Christmas, I'm as good as I kin be! For Christmas, with its lots an' lots of candies, cakes, and toys, Was made, they say, for proper kids an' not for naughty boys; So wash yer face an' bresh yer hair, an' mind yer p's and q's, An' don't bust out yer pantaloons, and don't wear out yer shoes; Say "Yessum" to the ladies, an' "Yessur" to the men, An' when they's company, don't pass yer plate for pie again; But, thinkin' of the things yer'd like to see upon that tree, Jest 'fore Christmas be as good as yer kin be! - Eugene Field Tim Stowell Chattanooga, TN ------------------------------- To unsubscribe from the list, please send an email to NYCORTLA-request@rootsweb.com with the word 'unsubscribe' without the quotes in the subject and the body of the message

At 01:15 PM 12/13/2007, Walter P. Coston wrote: >I loved reading this poem by Eugene Field. One lesson I got, as a >genealogist, was that people 100-200 years ago and earlier, who might >have completed just the 8th grade, a real educational accomplishment in >those days, were quite happy to be able to spell even though it was just >phonetically. Some of the schools in those days only went to the eighth >grade. If you wanted more education, you would have to go away for it. >If you finished the 8th grade, and did well, then you were qualified to >teach others. > >We should be glad that they spelled the way they did because that's the >reason we have some of the wonderful records that they left behind. >It's more than being tolerant. It's being grateful that they were able >to record anything in those days. > >Eugene Field was a great American author. I'm not sure if this is a reflection on the education I received or not. Until I picked up this book, while going through stacks of old books, opened it up and found this piece, I'd never heard of Eugene Field before. This book came out of a collection of books 3 aunts had, one of whom was a school librarian. I acquired this book from their estate over 10 years ago. This particular book was copyrighted 1898 by Julia Sutherland Field, his wife. Some folks have written speaking of a couple of other poems of his - Little Boy Blue for one and Christmas Treasures. Both were a bit too sad for me at this point, of which I may speak at some point. I did find out though that he was outside of poetry a quite interesting character. Tim