Jumped from its plate and glared at me and winked its little eye;
"You boy," it says, "Thanksgivin' Day, don't dare ter touch a slice
Of me, for if you do, I'll come and cramp you like a vise.
I'll root you, and I'll boot you, and I'll twist you till you squeal,
I'll stand on edge and roll around your stomach like a wheel;
I'll hunch you, and I'll punch you, and I'll screech, 'Remember me!'"

* * * * *

I don't know what came after that, 'cause I woke up, you see.

You wouldn't b'lieve that talk like that one ever _could_ forget,
But, say! ter-day's Thanksgivin,' and I've et, and et, and et!
And when I'd stuffed jest all I could, I jumped and gave a scream,
'Cause all at once, when 't was too late, I 'membered 'bout that dream.
And now it's almost bedtime, and I ought ter say my prayers
And tell the folks "good-night" and go a-pokin' off up-stairs;
But, oh, my sakes! I dasn't, 'cause I know them things'll be
All hidin' somewheres 'round my bed and layin there fer me.

* * * * *

O'REILLY'S BILLY-GOAT

A solemn Sabbath stillness lies along the Mudville lanes,
Among the crags of Shantytown a peaceful quiet reigns,
For down upon McCarty's dump, in fiery fight for fame,
The Shanties meet the Mudvilles in the final pennant game;
And heedless of the frantic fray, in center field remote,
Behind the biggest ash-heap lies O'Reilly's billy-goat.