Krismas Dinnah Poem by Maggie Pogue Johnson

We's invited down to brudder Browns,
On a Krismas day,
To an ol' time Krismas dinnah,
So de imbertation say.
De deacons en der wives was dar,
De parson en his wife;
En all dem folks did sho' look good,
You kin bet yo' life!
De wimmin folks was dressed to de'f,
Wid ruffles en wid laces,
En har all hangin' down in curls,
Wid powder on der faces.
Der dresses had sich great long trains,
We stood back wid de res',
As dey marched into de 'ception hall,
To keep from steppin on der dress.
En de men folks wasn't fer behin',
I'se here to tell,
Dey was dressed, too, in der bes',
Lookin' kin' o' swell.
Dey wo' dese long jimswinger coats,
Wid big leg pantaloons,
High silk hats wid broad red bands,
En 'rived dar prompt at noon.
Dey wo' dem low-cut vests,
Wid great broad white necktie,
En each man wo' an eye glass,
Stickin' on one eye.
Ol' man Edmond Jones was dar,
Dressed jis like de res',
It w'ud hab tickled you so much,
To hab seen him look his bes'.
Him en ol' man Slyback,
Was an hour behin',
Dey was ol' an walked so slow,
Dey c'ud'n come in time.
Still, when dinnah time did come,
Dem two was in de line,
Marchin' to de chune ob music,
Keepin' ol' folks time.
Den dey stood up at de table,
Till de blessin' it was said,
At de tappin ob de bell,
Dey all did bow der heads.
Parson Reuben Jones was called,
To say de blessed wuds,
En as he 'gin to cle'r his throat,
His inmos' soul was stirred:—
'Heabenly Fodder look down on us,
En dis earfly blessin',
We thanks De fer dis possum roas',
All brown wid ash-cake dressin,—
''We thanks De fer dis sausage,
En squirrel cooked wid beans,
En all dis nice fried chicken,
Dese onions en dese greens;—
'En as we goes to eat it,
Wilt Dou be our frien',
To keep us all from dyin',
We ax dis, en amen.'
De wimmen folks was helped fus',
To all de kins ob meat,
En den we men was helped,
As we sot dar in our seats.
Den we 'menced to eatin'.
Dat was a stuffin' time,
Case no one said a wud
To pass away de time,—
Jis' 'cept to ax fer eatin's,
Den in a quiet way,
Dey w'ud cle'r der throats
En hab a wud to say.
You talk about folks eatin'!
But neber in my rouns'
Has I eber eat up so much grub
As I did at brudder Browns.
De wimmen dey was near de stove,
En I tho't dat dey wud melt,
But dey jis kept on a' eatin'
'Till dey had to loose dey belts.
En when dem folks did git up,
Dat table was cleaned up right,
Possum carcass, chicken bones,
Was all dat's lef in sight.