Document 253

The Mumps

Author(s): Anna Blair

Copyright holder(s): Anna Blair

Just me in the wall-bed
Getting' over the mumps
A bit peely-wally
Kinda down-in-the-dumps.

Well, that's no' true really,
It's nice to be here
Happed up in the blankets
The cold of the year.

For it's winter outside there
Black-dark in the hall,
But in-here the fire's
Making shapes on the wall.

You see queer dark shadows
That's made by the clo'es
Hanging up on the pulley
In four droopy rows.

You've combies and bodices
Flowery cretonnes
And dangling like ghosts
Pa's bow-leggèd long-johns.

There's great whopping bloomers
Stiff stays and brasseers
And drawers in positions
That's fright'ning and fierce.

There's stockings, like eerie
Black legs there that crawl,
Sarks and chemises
That dance on the wall.

See, them forms in the firelight
Plain things and yet weird,
One dervish from Hell
One a goat with a beard!

I ken my own things
And I'm no' feart for them
But my Ma's and my Pa's clo'es
Is no' just the same.

So I lie and I look
And I cannae but wonder
What the two of them look-like
In what they wear under.

I've only seen ever
Their faces and toes
Have to guess from the pulley
What they're like atween those.

Wi' all your imaginin's
Fancies and fears
It's nice in the firelight,
Ev'n with your sore ears.

Information about Document 253

The Mumps