Candlelight (Cloud collection)/Miss Lady
MISS LADY
Miss Lady
You Miss Lady, git down in dat baid,
'N pull de covers up roun' yo' haid!
Ole Marse Sandy Claws a-comin' bumbye,
Wid 'is rainydears a-totin' 'im clar thoo de sky!
Huccome he ain't ride in a autermobile?
'Cause he's a cayaige gemman. He laks de feel
Ob dem rainydears pullin' en tromplin' thoo de snow
Same ez we-all's ho'ses, when Ole Marse'd mek 'em go.
'N pull de covers up roun' yo' haid!
Ole Marse Sandy Claws a-comin' bumbye,
Wid 'is rainydears a-totin' 'im clar thoo de sky!
Huccome he ain't ride in a autermobile?
'Cause he's a cayaige gemman. He laks de feel
Ob dem rainydears pullin' en tromplin' thoo de snow
Same ez we-all's ho'ses, when Ole Marse'd mek 'em go.
Wid 'is leg-boots on, en 'is grebbig fambly sleigh—
How he gwine ter git acrost de water in de Bay?
(Heah dat!)
Ah ain't knowin' how. But good chillun' don' pry
Lak ole Miss Moon, up yander in de sky.
Ef dey ain't nuffin' ter see, Miss Moon know whut 'tis! . . .
But, Miss Moon's quality. Mines me ob Miss Liz.
Got de steady quality look, en sho'ly keep huh place.
Better mine yo' wo'ds, when she look you in de face!
How he gwine ter git acrost de water in de Bay?
(Heah dat!)
Ah ain't knowin' how. But good chillun' don' pry
Lak ole Miss Moon, up yander in de sky.
Ef dey ain't nuffin' ter see, Miss Moon know whut 'tis! . . .
But, Miss Moon's quality. Mines me ob Miss Liz.
Got de steady quality look, en sho'ly keep huh place.
Better mine yo' wo'ds, when she look you in de face!
Miss Moon, she gib de sign; ole Sandy Claws say "Go!"
En den you heah de tinkerin' on de roof, in de snow,—
Lak dat raid-haid pecker bird when spring mos' come,
Tappin' dat he's mighty glad he's got back home.—
Ole Sandy climb de chimbly, ter hunt for we-all—
Huccome he ain't gib hissef de worse kine ob fall?
Miss Lady, you lay down in baid, en shut up yo' eyes!
You ax me no mo' quessions, Ah'll tell you no mo' lies.
En den you heah de tinkerin' on de roof, in de snow,—
Lak dat raid-haid pecker bird when spring mos' come,
Tappin' dat he's mighty glad he's got back home.—
Ole Sandy climb de chimbly, ter hunt for we-all—
Huccome he ain't gib hissef de worse kine ob fall?
Miss Lady, you lay down in baid, en shut up yo' eyes!
You ax me no mo' quessions, Ah'll tell you no mo' lies.
Ole Sandy Claws is comin', 'less Miss Moon done wink huh eye,
'N ef she do, he sho'ly is a-gwine ter pass us by.
(Now, you Miss Lady, wait 'tel Ah git good'n thoo!)
Ef you habbent done nuffin' whut you hadn't oughter do,—
Ain't muss yo' frock ner romple up yo' hayar,
Ef you set up pretty in yo' lil high chair,
Ef you mine yo' paw'n maw, in eat yor milk'n braid,
En do whut mammy tell you'n come good'n quiet ter baid,
Ef you gib yo' right han', en speak nice ter eberyone—
(En be sho' you ain't say nuffin' 'tel Miss Liz gits done!)
Den ole Sandy Claws'll sho'ly come along dis way,
Wid Chris'mus gif's'n toys ter de top ob his sleigh,—
Ole Marse, Nora'n d'ark, en Miss Nora'n dem,
En a elfunt wid a nose lak a grape-vine stem,
En—
'N ef she do, he sho'ly is a-gwine ter pass us by.
(Now, you Miss Lady, wait 'tel Ah git good'n thoo!)
Ef you habbent done nuffin' whut you hadn't oughter do,—
Ain't muss yo' frock ner romple up yo' hayar,
Ef you set up pretty in yo' lil high chair,
Ef you mine yo' paw'n maw, in eat yor milk'n braid,
En do whut mammy tell you'n come good'n quiet ter baid,
Ef you gib yo' right han', en speak nice ter eberyone—
(En be sho' you ain't say nuffin' 'tel Miss Liz gits done!)
Den ole Sandy Claws'll sho'ly come along dis way,
Wid Chris'mus gif's'n toys ter de top ob his sleigh,—
Ole Marse, Nora'n d'ark, en Miss Nora'n dem,
En a elfunt wid a nose lak a grape-vine stem,
En—
Ain't big folks good, dat he don't fetch dem nuffi' 'tall?
(Heah dat!)
You tell me, Miss Lady, what'd yo' paw do wid a dawl?
(My lan'! Dat's Miss Liz' secrut whut she gib me ter keep!)
Miss Lady! . . . Don' say nuffin' . .
De chile's
went
ter sleep. . . .
(Heah dat!)
You tell me, Miss Lady, what'd yo' paw do wid a dawl?
(My lan'! Dat's Miss Liz' secrut whut she gib me ter keep!)
Miss Lady! . . . Don' say nuffin' . .
De chile's
went
ter sleep. . . .