‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Claws soon would be there.
The kittens were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of catnip danced in their heads.
And Mama Cat in her blanket, and I in 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 my bed 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 a luster of midday to objects below,
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.
With a little old driver, so lively and spry,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Claws nearby.
More rapid than lasers his reindeer they came,
And he whistled, and meowed, and called them by name:
“Now Whiskers! Now Mittens! Now Paws and Fluffy!
On Tinker! On Shadow! On Boots and Puffy!
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 housetop the reindeer they flew,
With a sleigh full of toys, and St. Claws 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. Claws came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his coat was all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes—how they twinkled! His whiskers, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the fur on his chin was as white as the snow.
The stump of a feather he held tight in his teeth,
And the fluff it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a soft, furry belly,
That shook when he purred, like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old cat,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of his hat.
A twitch of his tail and a flick of his ear,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to fear.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a smirk.
And laying a paw aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a yowl,
And away they all flew, like cats on the prowl.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight—
“Meowy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
