178 lines
6.8 KiB
Plaintext
178 lines
6.8 KiB
Plaintext
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THE TWELVE DAYS AFTER CHRISTMAS
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The first day after Christmas
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My true love and I had a fight
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And so I chopped the pear tree down
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And burnt it, just for spite
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Then with a single cartridge
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I shot that blasted partridge
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My true love, my true love, my true love gave to me.
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The second day after Christmas
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I pulled on the old rubber gloves
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And very gently wrung the necks
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Of both the turtle doves
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My true love, my true love, my true love gave to me.
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On the third day after Christmas
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My mother caught the croup
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I had to use the three French hens
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To make some chicken soup
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The four calling birds were a big mistake
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For their language was obscene
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The five golden rings were completely fake
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and turned my fingers green.
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The sixth day after Christmas
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The six laying geese wouldn't lay
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So I sent the whole darn gaggle to the
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A.S.P.C.A.
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On the seventh day, what a mess I found
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The seven swans-a-swimming all had drowned
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(I think there's a "my true love gave to me" in here somewhere)
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The eighth day after Christmas
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Before they could suspect
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I bundled up the
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Eight maids-a-milking
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Nine ladies dancing
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Ten lords-a-leaping
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Eleven pipers piping
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Twelve drummers drumming - well, actually I kept one of the drummers -
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And sent them back collect
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I wrote my true love
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"We are through, love!"
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And I said in so many words
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"Furthermore your Christmas gifts were for the
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(Soprani) Birds!"
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(Everyone else) Four calling birds,
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Three french hens,
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Two turtle doves
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And a partridge in a pear tree!"
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*******************************************************
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From: polgara@bucsf.bu.edu (Joanne Handwerger)
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THE TWELVE THANKYOU NOTES OF CHRISTMAS
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My dearest darling Edward, Dec 25
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What a wonderful surprise has just greeted me! That
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sweet partridge, in that lovely little pear-tree; what
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an enchanting, romantic, poetic present! Bless you, and
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thank you.
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Your deeply loving
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Emily.
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Beloved Edward, Dec 26
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The two turtle-doves arrived this morning, and are cooing
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away in the pear-tree as I write. I'm so touched and grateful!
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With undying love, as always,
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Emily.
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My darling Edward, Dec 27
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You do think of the most original presents! Who ever
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thought of sending anybody three French hens? Do they
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really come all the way from France? It's a pity we have
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no chicken coops, but I expect we'll find some. Anyway,
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thankyou so much; they're lovely.
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Your devoted Emily.
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Dearest Edward, Dec 28
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What a surprise! Four calling birds arrived this morning.
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They are very sweet, even if they do call rather loudly -
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they make telephoning almost impossible - but I expect they'll
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calm down when they get used to their new home. Anyway, I'm
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very grateful, of course I am.
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Love from Emily.
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Dearest Edward, Dec 29
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The mailman has just delivered five most beautiful gold
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rings, one for each finger, and all fitting perfectly!
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A really lovely present! Lovelier, in a way, than birds,
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which do take rather a lot of looking after. The four that
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arrived yesterday are still making a terrible row, and I'm
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afraid none of us got much sleep last night. Mother says
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she wants to use the rings to "wring" their necks. Mother
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has such a sense of humor. This time she's only joking,
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I think, but I do know what she means. Still, I love the rings.
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Bless you,
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Emily.
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Dear Edward, Dec 30
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Whatever I expected to find when I opened the front door
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this morning, it certainly wasn't six socking great geese
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laying eggs all over the porch. Frankly, I rather hoped
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that you had stopped sending me birds. We have no room
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for them, and they've already ruined the croquet lawn.
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I know you meant well, but let's call a halt, shall we?
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Love,
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Emily.
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Edward, Dec 31
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I thought I said NO MORE BIRDS. This morning I woke
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up to find no more than seven swans, all trying to get
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into our tiny goldfish pond. I'd rather not think what's
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happened to the goldfish. The whole house seems to be
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full of birds, to say nothing of what they leave behind
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them, so please, please, stop!
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Your Emily.
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Jan 1
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Frankly, I prefer the birds. What am I to do with eight
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milkmaids? And their cows! Is this some kind of a joke?
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If so, I'm afraid I don't find it very amusing.
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Emily.
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Look here, Edward, Jan 2
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This has gone far enough. You say you're sending me
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nine ladies dancing. All I can say is, judging from the
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way they dance, they're certainly not ladies. The village
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just isn't accustomed to seeing a regiment of shameless
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viragos, with nothing on but their lipstick, cavorting
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round the green, and it's Mother and I who get the blame.
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If you value our friendship, which I do (less and less),
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kindly stop this ridiculous behavior at once!
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Emily.
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Jan 3
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As I write this letter, ten disgusting old men are
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prancing up and down all over what used to be the garden,
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before the geese and the swans and the cows got at it.
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And several of them, I have just noticed, are taking
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inexcusable liberties with the milkmaids. Meanwhile the
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neighbors are trying to have us evicted. I shall never
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speak to you again.
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Emily.
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Jan 4
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This is the last straw! You know I detest bagpipes!
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The place has now become something between a menagerie
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and a madhouse, and a man from the council has just
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declared it unfit for habitation. At least Mother has
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been spared this last outrage; they took her away yesterday
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afternoon in an ambulance. I hope you're satisfied.
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Sir, Jan 5
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Our client, Miss Emily Wilbraham, instructs me to
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inform you that with the arrival on her premises at 7:30
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this morning of the entire percussion section of the
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Boston Symphony Orchestra, and several of their friends,
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she has no course left open to her but to seek an injunction
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to prevent you importuning her further. I am making
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arrangements for the return of much assorted livestock.
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I am, Sir, yours faithfully,
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G. Creep
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Attorney at law.
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Author unknown.
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