Today's story is The Night Before Christmas by Clement Clark Moore So I'd like you just to make sure that you're nice and relaxed,
All cosy,
And let's begin.
Twas a nicht before Christmas,
When all through the house,
No creature was stirring,
No even a moose.
The stockings were hung by the chimney wick here,
In hopes that Saint Nick soon would be there.
The bairns were all nestled,
All snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar plums danced in their heads.
And mamma and her kerchief,
And I in my cap,
Had just settled oor brains for a long winter's nap.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
I watted the windy,
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 a luster of midday to objects below.
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But a miniature sleigh,
And eight wee reindeer,
Were wee old driver,
So lively and quick,
I knew in a moment he must be Saint Nick.
More rapid than eagles,
His coursers they came,
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name.
New dasher,
New dancer,
New prancer and vixen,
On Comet,
On Cupid,
On Donner and Blitzen,
To the top of the porch,
To the top of the wall,
New dash away,
Dash away,
Dash away,
Aw.
As leaves at before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with the obstacle,
Mount to the sky.
So up to the hoostop the coursers they flew,
With a sleigh full of toys and Saint Nicholas too.
And then,
In a twinkling,
I heard on the roof,
The prancing and pawing of each wee hoof.
As I drew in my head and was turning around,
Down the chimney Saint Nick came with a bound.
He was dressed aw in fur,
Face heed to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and suit.
Up under the toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes,
How they twinkled,
His dimples,
How merry,
His cheeks were like roses and his nose like a cherry.
His droll wee mouth was all drawn up like a bowl,
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow.
The stump of a pipe held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a wee round 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 winky's eye and a twisty's head soon gave me the know I had nothing to treat.
He spoke no a word,
But went straight to his work,
And fell in all the stockings,
Then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And gaining a nod,
Up the chimney he rose.
He sprang to his slate,
His team gave a whistle,
And a waddy of flue like the downy of thistle.
But I heard him exclaim,
And he drove out of sight,
Happy Christmas to you all,
And to you all a good night.
I hope you enjoyed that story,
And I'd like to wish you a very happy Christmas.
And I hope you sleep really well tonight.
Bye bye for now.
You you
