Din, din, din,
Now we’ll begin.
Mary brings the soup and father cuts the bread.
I am his mother,
And he is your brother,
There’s ne’er such another
In all the world round.
His smile is the queerest,
His eyes are the clearest,
His face is the dearest,
That ever were found.
This is my birthday,
O what a mirth-day!
And O how lucky I am!
I have dollies and carts,
I have eaten three tarts,
And now here’s a big pot of jam.
Emma! just look,
What a wonderful cook!
Currant and raisin
She puts in the basin,
Only see how her hand throws in the flour.
Sugar and suet,
She knows how to do it.
Now then crumbs,
Now more plums,
She puts everything good into our Christmas pudding.
Eggs half a score,
And many things more,
Lemon-peel candied,
And everything brandied,
O what a treat it will be when completed.
