"The Night Before Christmas" read by Keith Morrison

Not even a mouse.

The stockings 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 sugar plums danced in their heads.

And Mama and her kerchief and I and 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 the bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew in a flash and tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of new-fallen snow gave the luster of midday to objects below.

And what to my wondering eyes should appear but a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.

With a little old driver so lively and quick I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

More rapid than eagles his courses they came.

And he whistled and shouted, called them by name.

Now Dasher, now Dancer, now Prancer and Vixen, on Comet, on Cupid, on Donder 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 before the wild hurricane fly when they meet with an obstacle mount 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.

As I drew in my hand and was turning around down the chimney St. Nicholas came 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.

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, his nose like a cherry.

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow and the beard of his chin was white as snow.

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth and the smoke had encircled his head like a wreath.

He had a broad face and a round little belly that shook when he laughed like a bowl full of jelly.

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 his finger aside of his nose and giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.

He sprang 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, good night.