I'll be having a new grandson soon and is name will be William.
I know there is a poem that goes something like this:
My name is William, but my mother calls me Willie
My father calls me Will
But my friends all call me Bill.

Has anyone ever heard of this one? And is there more to it?

It's "Jest 'Fore Christmas" by Eugene Field,

Jest 'Fore Christmas

Father calls me William, sister calls me Will,
Mother calls me Willie but the fellers call me Bill!
Mighty glad I ain't a girl -- ruther be a boy,
Without them sashes curls an' things that's worn by Fauntleroy!
Love to chawnk green apples an' go swimmin' in the lake --
Hate to take the castor-ile they give for belly-ache!
'Most all the time, the whole year round, there ain't no flies on me,
But jest 'fore Christmas I'm as good as I kin be!

Got a yeller dog named Sport, sick him on the cat.
First thing she knows she does n't know where she is at!
Got a clipper sled, an' when us kids goes out to slide,
'Long comes the grocery cart, an' we all hook a ride!
But sometimes when the grocery man is worrited an' cross,
He reaches at us with his whip, an' larrups up his hoss,
An' then I laff an' holler, "Oh, ye never teched me!"
But jest 'fore Christmas I'm as good as I kin be!

Gran'ma says she hopes that when I git to be a man,
I'll be a missionarer like her oldest brother, Dan,
As was et up by the cannibals that live in Ceylon's Isle,
Where every prospeck pleases, an' only man is vile!
But gran'ma she has never been to see a Wild West show,
Nor read the life of Daniel Boone, or else I guess she'd know
That Buff'lo Bill an' cowboys is good enough for me!
Excep' jest 'fore Christmas, when I'm as good as I kin be!

And then old Sport he hangs around, so solemn-like an' still,
His eyes they seem a-sayin': "What's the matter, little Bill?"
The old cat sneaks down off her perch an' wonders what's become
Of them two enemies of hern that used to make things hum!
But I am so perlite an' tend so earnestly to biz,
That mother says to father: "How improved our Willie is!"
But father, havin' been a boy hisself, suspicions me
When, jest 'fore Christmas, I'm as good as I kin be!

For Christmas, with its lots an' lots of candies, cakes an' toys,
Was made, they say, for proper kids an' not for naughty boys;
So wash yer face an' bresh yer hair, an' mind yer p's and q's,
And don't bust out yer pantaloons, and don't wear out yer shoes;
Say "Yessum" to the ladies, and "Yessur" to the men,
An' when they's company, don't pass yer plate for pie again;
But, thinkin' of the things yer'd like to see upon that tree,
Jest 'fore Christmas be as good as yer kin be!

john



Post Edited (04-04-05 15:48)

You might also like this one, by W. M. Letts (1882 - 1972). She was married to a widower, William H. F. Verschoyle so maybe it was written for him. They had no children from their marriage but two of Mr Verschoyle's sons from his first marriage were killed in WW1.

Wishes for William

These things I wish you for our friendship's sake -
A sunburnt thatch, a door to face the sun
At westering, the noise of homing rooks;
A kind, old lazy chair, a courtly cat
To rub against your knees;
Shelves of well-chosen books;
I wish you these.

I wish you friends whose wisdom makes them kind,
Well-leisured friends to share your evening's peace,
Friends who can season knowledge with a laugh;
A hedge of lavender, a patch of thyme,
With sage and marjoram and rosemary,
A damask rosebush and a hive of bees,
And cabbages that hold the morning dew,
A blackbird in the orchard boughs - all these
And - God bless you.

Children, no matter whose, to watch for you
With flower faces at your garden gate,
And one to watch the clock with eager eyes,
Saying: "He's late - he's late."

Forgot to mention that there are also (at least) two songs about Bill - one from the musical Carousel and I have - temporarily - forgotten the origin of the other one.

Bairbre wrote:

Forgot to mention that there are also (at least) two songs
about Bill - one from the musical Carousel and I have -
temporarily - forgotten the origin of the other one.

Where on earth did you find the Poem "Just for Christmas"? I have been hunting for this one for years. When I was a kid my mother made me memorize it and dress like a boy and present it to her women's group. I could only remember the part about (Mother calls me William. Father calls me Will. Grandma calls me Willie but the fellers call me Bill and Just for Christmas I'm as good as I can be. ) Thanks for writing it out so I now have it. Not a great fond memory as I did not appreciate being dressed like a boy and having to recite that poem but my mother thought i was her little actress and it was the only Christmas poem she could find at the time that was humorus. Thanks a heap however as even though it was not the best time I ever had I now have a grandson named William who I call Willie and have often recited to him what I could remember of that poem. Again Bless your heart for responding to the request.
Carol Wolf Britton

      I TOO WOULD LOVE TO HAVE THIS POEM, ANY LUCK????

Mary, click on "flat view" below your post and read the second post.


Les

I think the poem went:

My sister calls me Billy
My father calls me Will
My mother calls me William
But the fellers call me Bill

I am a Bill, and that's how my mom told it to me.
So, let that be a' learnin' to you.