Twas The Nigh ACXt

'Twas the night before Christmas and not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. Stockings were hung in hopes of St. Nicholas' arrival. The children were asleep with visions of sugarplums. Suddenly, there was a clatter outside and I saw a sleigh with reindeer. St. Nick appeared and quickly delivered gifts. He was dressed in fur, had a jolly appearance, and a belly that shook when he laughed. He filled the stockings, gave a nod, and disappeared up the chimney. As he flew away, he wished everyone a Merry Christmas and a good night. Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. The stockings were hung on the chimney with care, in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there. The children were nestled all snug in their beds, with visions of sugarplums dancing through their heads. Him and her kerchief and I in my cap had just settled down for a long winter's nap. When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter, tore open the shutters and threw up the sash. The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow gave a luster of midday to objects below, and what to my wondering eyes should appear but a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer. With the little old driver so lively and quick, well, I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick. More rapid than eagles his courses they came, and he whistled and he shouted and he called them by name. On Dasher, on Dancer, on Prancer and Vixen, on Comet, on Cupid, on Donner and Blitzen, to the top of the porch, to the top of the wall, now dash away, dash away, dash away all. As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, when they meet an obstacle, mount to the sky. So up to the rooftop the courses they flew, with a sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too. And then in a twinkling I heard on the roof the prancing, the pawing of each little hoof. As I drew my head and was turning around, down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound. He was dressed in all fur from his head to his foot, and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot. A bundle of toys he had plung on his back, and he looked like a peddler just opening his pack. His eyes, how they twinkled, his dimples, how merry. His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry. His droll little mouth was drawn up in a bow, and the beard on his chin was white as the snow. The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, and the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath. He had a broad face and a little round belly that shook when he laughed, ho-ho-ho-ho, like a bowl full of jelly, ho-ho-ho-ho. He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf, and I laughed when I saw him in spite of myself. A wink of his eye and a twist of his head soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread. He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, and filled all the stockings and turned with a jerk. And laying a finger to the side of his nose and giving a nod, up the chimney he rose. He sprang to his sleigh, and to his team gave a whistle, and away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim, as he flew out of sight, Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.