“Thank the Christkind so much, Mummy, won’t you, for all the lovely things He brought us. I suppose you’re writing to Him now, isn’t you?”

Crowded Out

Nobody ain’t Christmas shoppin’

Fur his stockin’,

Nobody ain’t cotch no turkey,

Nobody ain’t bake no pie.

Nobody’s laid nuthin’ by;

Santa Claus don’t cut no figger

Fur his mammy’s little nigger.

Seems lak everybody’s rushin’