  “Over the river and through the wood Now Grandmother’s cap I spy: Hurrah for the fun!—Is the pudding done? Hurrah for the pumpkin-pie!” School Reader. Fer any boy ’at’s little as me, Er any little girl, That-un’s the goodest poetry-piece In any book in the worl’! An’ ef grown-peoples wuz little ag’in I bet they’d say so, too, Ef they’d go see their ole Gran’ma, Like our Pa lets us do! Over the river an’ through the wood Now Gran’mother’s cap I spy: Hurrah fer the fun!—Is the puddin’ done?— Hurrah fer the punkin-pie! An’ ’ll tell you why ’at’s the goodest piece:— ’Cause it’s ist like we go To our Gran’ma’s, a-visitun there, When our Pa he says so; An’ Ma she fixes my little cape-coat An’ little fuzz-cap; an’ Pa He tucks me away—an’ yells “Hoo-ray!”— An’ whacks Ole Gray, an’ drives the sleigh Fastest you ever saw! Over the river an’ through the wood Now Gran’mother’s cap I spy: Hurrah fer the fun!—Is the puddin’ done?— Hurrah fer the punkin-pie! An’ Pa ist snuggles me ’tween his knees— An’ I he’p hold the lines, An’ peek out over the buffalo-robe;— An’ the wind ist blows!—an’ the snow ist snows!— An’ the sun ist shines! an’ shines!— An’ th’ ole horse tosses his head an’ coughs The frost back in our face.— An’ I ruther go to my Gran’ma’s Than any other place! Over the river an’ through the wood Now Gran’mother’s cap I spy: Hurrah fer the fun!—Is the puddin’ done?— Hurrah fer the punkin-pie! An’ all the peoples they is in town Watches us whizzin’ past To go a-visitun our Gran’ma’s, Like we all went there last;— But they can’t go, like ist our folks An’ Johnny an’ Lotty, an’ three Er four neighber-childerns, an’ Rober-ut Volney, An’ Charley an’ Maggy an’ me! Over the river an’ through the wood Now Gran’mother’s cap I spy: Hurrah fer the fun!—Is the puddin’ done?— |
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