12 Nights of Mummers
Newfoundland Mummering Limericks
For the 12 nights of Christmas, Newfoundlanders donned bizarre disguises and traveled in groups from house to house—a tradition known as mummering. When invited inside, these mummers danced, drank, and made merry, while the hosts tried to guess the identities hidden beneath the masks. It was all great fun… for most. But the truth is, mummering was often a little scary and sometimes downright dark.
During the 2021 Christmas season, I shared a limerick a day capturing the many sides of mummering—its humour, its fear, and the mischief the mummers got up to.
Here they are—collected as the complete ‘12 Nights of Mummers.’ Enjoy!
The 1st Night
One mummer in old drawers was last—
The folk guessed and questioned quite fast.
Though he kept his disguise,
When his trapdoor did rise,
The bottom was got to, and fast.
The 2nd Night
When the mummers appeared on the ridge,
Aunt Kate dropped her mop by the fridge.
She cried, “Not my floor!
Stay out by the door!
Have cake, b’ys, out here on the bridge!”
The 3rd Night
A weary old woman named Grace
Found her husband a worn pillowcase:
“Mummering’s the best gift,
It gives me a lift—
When he hides his crooked old face.”
The 4th Night
In December one mummering creep
Was happy the snow was so deep.
Without need of a boost,
The chance introduced,
More windows through which he could peep.
The 5th Night
A widow from way up the shore
Gave drinks to mummers and more:
She’d pick a young chap
Plop down in his lap,
And say things his wife would abhor.
The 6th Night
IIn the shadow beyond the gate,
Loomed a mummer who lingered till late.
With a chill in the air,
I froze in despair,
As the stranger stood silent, in wait.
The 7th Night
There once was a mummer from Croque,
Whose teeth whistled loud when he spoke.
To stay in disguise,
He blinked with his eyes,
Morse code to converse with the folk.
The 8th Night
The mummers who came down the road,
Brought a beast with eyes dead and cold.
With jaws clapping coarse,
An old hobby horse,
Brought terror to timid and bold.
The 9th Night
At my school, for propriety’s sake,
The concert served syrup and cake.
But Nan, with a grin,
Sneaked in with her gin,
And kissed teacher, as if by mistake.
The 10th Night
Old Josie, so cunning and keen,
Cut her cake into slices quite lean.
With a man and his wife
To steady her knife,
She caused quite a scandalous scene.
The 11th Night
Two fellows in costumes, hand-made,
By darkness, their true selves displayed.
Hands touched, they drew near,
With gay Yuletide cheer,
For pleasures the daylight forbade.
The 12th Night
Old Christmas was loud in the bay,
A mummer declared, with dismay,
“That’s enough of this cheer,
I’ll pause till next year—
Or at least ’til St. Patrick’s Day.”
