The Night Before Christmas

You know children was the life before Christmas, and all through the house, never creature was stirring, not even a mouse. The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that they'd make me go as soon as he there.

The children would knuckle all snug in their bed, while visions of sugar plum danced in their head. And mama in her kerchief and eye in my cap had just settled our brains for a long with her snep, When out on the lawn there roached such a slacker, I sprang for my beer to see what was the matter.

A way to the window I flew like a flash, or opened the chateon through up the stash. To moon all the rest of the New Orleans snow, the Veluster of Midday you obtixed below. When what to my wandering eyes should appear, for the miniscuous sleigh and eight tiny reindeer with a little old driver so lively and quick.

I knew in a moment it must be significant. More rapid and eager his corsets became, and he whistled and shouted and called them by name. Now, Tasha, now, Dancer, now, Prancer and Vixen, Uncomit, Untubit, Undonder and Vison, to the top of the fort, to the top of the wall.

Now, Dachoe, Dachoe, Dachoe, all, go up to the house of this corset they blew, with a sleightful of toys and St. Nicholas too. And then in the twinkling I heard on the roof, the prancing and sawing of each little roof.

As I drew in my head and was turning around, down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a sound. He was dressed all in fur from his head to his foot and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.