Christmas at the Workhouse
It was Christmas at the workhouse,
And the convicts gathered there.
They were sitting at the table,
Partaking of their fare,
When the warden quietly entered,
And he shouted through the cells,
“Merry Christmas, good old convicts,”
And the convicts answered “Bells.”
Now this made the warden angry,
And he swore by all the Gods,
“You shall have no Christmas pudding.
You’re a dang big bunch of slobs.”
Then spoke the oldest convict,
With a voice that was not pure,
“Just take that Christmas pudding,
And shove it in the sewer.”
—By Dan Moriarty.
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