‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro’ stockhouse
Not a creature was stirring, except for my mouse;
The stocks were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of drilling rigs danc’d in their heads,
And Mama in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap-
When out of the blue there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the screen to see what was the matter.
Away to the keyboard I flew like a flash,
Tore open the bread box, and threw down some cash.
The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow,
Gave the lustre of up ticks to objects below;
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a minature sleigh, and eight tiny rein-deer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be Saint Nick.
More rapid than eagles his posters they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and call’d them by name:
“Now! Cheadle, now! Gonat, now! BTO squared, and Barney,
“On! Integrity, on! Andy, on! Topad and Gambler;
“To the top of the charts! lets hear your call!
“Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”
As dry leaves before the wild bullboard fly,
When they meet with resistance, cry to the sky;
So up to the limit stop the posters they flew,
With the sleigh full of Trolls - and Oldnagger too:
And then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound:
He was dress’d in polypropylene, from his head to his foot,
And his prospects were all tarnish’d with credit limits and soot;
A bundle of shorts was flung on his back,
And he look’d like a peddler just calling it black:
His eyes - how they twinkled! his prospects how merry,
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry;
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a yew,
And all his bets went down on the Crew;
The stump of a drill pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the gas it spewed out came from far beneath.
He had a broad face, and in his belly an amethyst
That shook when he laugh’d, just like an analyst:
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old Tech,
And I laugh’d when I told him Oh what the heck;
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 fill’d all the stocks; then turn’d with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.
He sprung to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew, like the down of a thistle:
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight-
Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night