A CHILD’S LOOK AT THANKSGIVING
Thanksgiving comes on Thursday by the President’s decree.
But Friday, good old Friday is Thanksgiving Day for me.
There’s lots to eat on Thursday, just heaps and piles of stuff,
But Mother always worries for fear there’s not enough.
So many folks for dinner, she’s sure that some will starve,
And whispers to my father, “Be careful how you carve.”
As for me, she warns me, I’ve heard it all before,
“No matter what we pass you, don’t ask for more.”
But Friday, one day after, she doesn’t feel that way.
I’ve heard it all so often, I know she’s going to say,
“Whoever would have guessed it, to see those people eat,
That on this turkey’s carcass there’d be left a shred of meat?
“I thought before they’d finished we should have to cook its mate,
But there’s quite a lot left over. Come, Willie,…
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