IV.
Tune up the Christmas fiddles!
Where royal music rings,
Where lips are red with laughter and romping rapture sings,
We'll find surcease of sorrow and
Care shall die away
While the feet shall dance the music of happiness for aye!
Then fix your fiddles, fellers! Our sweet-hearts laugh applause,
And Love repeats the echoes in a kiss for Santa Claus!
Mistah Trouble, Mistah Trouble!
Happy dat yuh met me
When de pleasuhes all am heah,
En de joys beset me!
Happy dat de house am full
So yuh'll hab toh trabble;
Mister Trouble, stretch yoh laigs
Libely down de grabble!
So Santa Claus'll Come.
My Mommer says ef I ain't good,
Thet Santa'll stay away,
En never bring a top er thing
Thet boys want Christmas day;
En I'm jes' purfic now, I guess,
Er purficker then some,
En I'm behavin' like a man
So Santa Claus'll come!
I hop up out of bed, you know,
'Fore Mommer calls me thayre,
En dress myse'f en wash my face
En nicely comb my hair;
En then I help my Mommer work,
En make a happy home,
En please my Popper all I kin,
So Santa Claus'll come.
I go to school through all the week,
En never hookey play,
En I'm so good I'm never made
Tell after school to stay;
En when the Sundays come, you bet,
I quit each idle chum,
En go to Sunday School ez nice,
So Santa Claus'll come!