Christmas Eve a year ago, just before he'd blown
Out into the "Woolly," where we don't know shrimps from shad.
Claimed along 'bout three a. m. they found an apple girl
Sleepin' in a doorway; stole her fruit to raise a fuss,
Then they made her do a Midway Turkish dancin' whirl
'Fore they'd pay the damage—an' he called that generous!
Awful homesick yarn it was. 'Peared he couldn't find
Nothin' in the whoopin' line warm enough out West.
Made me sort o' weary, so, to ease my mind,
I dug up a Christmas tale an' let him take a rest.