'Twas the night before the Rally, when all thro' the SAR
Not a driver was stirring, not even a Kaare;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nikola soon would be there;
The passengers were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of speed traps danc'd in their heads.
And Mark in his roadster, and I in my S,
Had just settled our brains for long weekend's naps —
When out on the old airport platform there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the SuperCharger to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters, and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow,
Gave the luster of mid-day to objects below;
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a sparkly Model S, drawn by eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nik.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and call'd them by name:
"Now! Kaare, now! Edwin, now! Aaron and Sunny,
"On! Simon, on! Ronald, on! Bill and Ricky;
"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 with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the S full of toys — and St. Nikola 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. Nikola came with a bound:
He was dress'd all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnish'd with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys was flung on his back,
And he look'd 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 like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as 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 laugh'd, like a bowl full of jelly:
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laugh'd 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 fill'd all the stockings; 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 S, 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.
Drive safe.
