From the Farmer and Mechanic, Raleigh, N.C., January 14, 1913. And yes,
it really did say “swow.”
Oh, Christmas Day is past and gone, we saw New Year’s
depart; and Groundhog Day full soon dawn, the day that stirs the heart
So let us wear our Christmas grins and do our shopping now,
before the groundhog rush begins—the sanest plan, I swow.
Oh, Groundhog Day, I sing your praise throughout the busy
town, and if the groundhog hears my lays, I hope he’ll jot them down.
On Groundhog Day we don’t suspend our dietary rules, and
gobble rich things without end, like 40 kinds of fools.
No indigestion racks our frames when Groundhog Day is past,
we do not dope or fast. No games, we do not dope or fast.
No slippers come by very mail from climes where slippers
grew, no cheerful chumps come up and wail, “A groundhog box on you!”
No presents on a groundhog tree stir up your guilty ire, no
foolish Santa do you be, with whiskers all afire.
Oh, Groundhog Day is safe and sane, a festive day and kind, which
doesn’t jar your soul or strain your body or your mind.
So let us sing the groundhog bell; the day is o’er, and may
the groundhog spirit dwell with us forever more.
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