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A DEFECTIVE SANTA CLAUS

Where Ma she wuz-a-cookin’ there
An’ kitchen, too, an’ ever’where!
An’ Uncle say, ’At’s ist the way
Yer Ma’s b’en workin', night an’ day,
Sense she hain’t big as Etty is
Er Lee-Bob in that chair o’ his!”
Nen Ma she’d laugh ’t what Uncle said,
An’ smack an’ smoove his old bald head
An’ say “Clear out the way till I
Can keep that pot from b’ilin’ dry!”
Nen Uncle, when she’s gone back to
The kitchen, says, “We ust to do

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