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It was the night before Christmas when all through the house not a creature was stirring,
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not even a mouse. The stockings were hung by the chimney with care in hopes that St. Nicholas soon
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would be there. The children were nestled all snug in their beds while visions of sugar plums
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danced in their heads, and Mama and her kerchief and I and my cap had just settled down for a long
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winter's nap when out on the lawn there arose such a clatter. I sprang from the bed to see what was
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the matter. Away to the window I flew in a flash and tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
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the moon on the breast of new-fallen snow gave the luster of midday objects below and what to
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my wondering eyes should appear but a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer with a little old
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driver so lively and quick i knew in a moment it must be saint nick more rapid than eagles as
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course as they came and he whistled and shouted call them by name now dasher now dancer now prancer
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and vixen, on comet, on cupid, on donder and blitzen, to the top of the porch, to the top
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of the wall. Now dash away, dash away, dash away all. As dry leaves and before the wild hurricane fly when they meet with an obstacle mount
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to the sky so up to the housetop his 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 and pawing of each little hoof
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As I drew in my hand and was turning around. Down the chimney St. Nicholas came.
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With a bound. He was all dressed in fur from his head to his foot. And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
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A bundle of toys he had flung on his back. And he looked just like a peddler. opening his pack. His eyes, how they twinkled, his dimples, how merry, his cheeks were like roses,
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his nose like a cherry, his droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, and the beard of his chin was
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white as the snow. The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, and the smoke, it encircled
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his head like a wreath. He had a broad face and a round little belly that shook when he laughed,
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like a bowl full of jelly. He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf, and I laughed when I saw him
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in spite of myself. A wink of his eye and a twist of his head soon gave me to know I had nothing to
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dread. He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, and filled all the stockings, then turned
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with a jerk, and laying his finger aside of his nose, and giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.
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He sprang to his sleigh, to his team, gave a whistle, and away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
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But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight, Happy Christmas to all, and to all, good night.