Adzackly jes one year ago, This New Year's day, Tomps comes to me-- In my own house, an' whilse the folks Was gittin' dinner--, an' he pokes His nose right in, an' says, says he: "I got yer note-- an' read it slow! You don't like me, ner I don't you," He says--, "we're even there, you know! But you've said, furder that no gal Of yourn kin marry me, er shall, An' I'd best shet off comin', too!" An' then he says--, "Well, them's Your views--; But havin' talked with S'repty, we Have both agreed to disagree With your peculiar notions-- some; An', that s the reason, I refuse To quit a-comin' here, but come-- Not fer to threat, ner raise no skeer An' spile yer turkey-dinner here--, But jes fer S'repty's sake, to sheer Yer New Year's. Shall I take a cheer?" Well, blame-don! Ef I ever see Sich impidence! I couldn't say Not nary word! But Mother she Sot out a cheer fer Tomps, an' they Shuk hands an' turnt their back on me. Then I riz-- mad as mad could be--! But Marg'et says--, "Now, Pap! You set Right where you're settin'--! Don't you fret! An' Tomps-- you warm yer feet!" says she, "An throw yer mitts an' comfert on The bed there! Where is S'repty gone! The cabbage is a-scortchin'! Ma, Stop cryin' there an' stir the slaw!" Well--! What was Mother cryin' fer--? I half riz up-- but Marg'et's chin Hit squared-- an' I set down ag'in-- I allus was afeard o' her, I was, by jucks! So there I set, Betwixt a sinkin'-chill an' sweat, An' scuffled with my wrath, an' shet My teeth to mighty tight, you bet! An' yit, fer all that I could do, I eeched to jes git up an' whet The carvin'-knife a rasp er two On Tomps's ribs-- an' so would you--! Fer he had riz an' faced around, An' stood there, smilin', as they brung The turkey in, all stuffed an' browned-- Too sweet fer nose, er tooth, er tongue! With sniffs o' sage, an' p'r'aps a dash Of old burnt brandy, steamin'-hot Mixed kindo' in with apple-mash An' mince-meat, an' the Lord knows what! Nobody was a-talkin' then, To 'filiate any awk'ardness-- No noise o' any kind but jes The rattle o' the dishes when They'd fetch 'em in an' set 'em down, An' fix an' change 'em round an' round, Like women does-- till Mother says--, "Vittels is ready; Abner, call Down S'repty-- she's up-stairs, I guess--." And Marg'et she says, "Ef you bawl Like that, she'll not come down at all! Besides, we needn't wait till she Gits down! Here Temps, set down by me, An' Pap: say grace...!" Well, there I was--! What could I do! I drapped my head Behind my fists an' groaned; an' said--: "Indulgent Parent! In Thy cause We bow the head an' bend the knee An' break the bread, an' pour the wine, Feelin'--" (The stair-door suddently Went bang! An' S'repty flounced by me--) "Feelin'," I says, "this feast is Thine-- This New Year's feast--" an' rap-rap-rap! Went Marg'ets case-knife on her plate-- An' next, I heerd a sasser drap--, Then I looked up, an' strange to state, There S'repty set in Tomps lap-- An' huggin' him, as shore as fate!