‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring—except for this mouse.
The mouse traps were laid by their small hole with care
In hopes that a mouse soon would be caught there.
The mousebabes were nestled all snug in their nests
While visions of cheese and stuff danced in their heads.
Mamma Mouse in her Kleenex, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter’s nap
When outside the hole, there arose such a pong,
I sprang from my nest to see what was wrong.
Away to the mousehole I ran like a flash.
That horrible smell smelled a bit like burnt hash.
When what, to my small, beady eyes should appear
But a enormous rat—and eight tiny reindeer!
That fat, evil driver, not lively and quick,
I knew in a moment that it must be Rat Nick!
More rapid than cats, his coursers they came,
And he squeaked, and he squealed, and he called them by name;
“Now Slasher! Now Basher! Now Crasher and Witchy!
Now Bomber! Now Putrid! Now Evil and Bitchy!
To the bottom of the floor! Now the top of the tree!
Now run away, run away, run away, flee!”
As dry leaves that 'fore the wild tornado fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the tree the coursers they flew,
With a sleigh, some dead mice, and Rat Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard with great awe
The prancing and scurrying of each little paw.
As I drew in my head and was turning around
Through that small hole Rat Nick came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his tip to his tail
And all of the fur told the horrible tale
Of mice that had given their valuable lives
Yet so seemingly worthless, as written by scribes.
His eyes, oh so evil! His paws, oh so scary!
His face was a nightmare, his nose a black cherry.
His rotten black teeth all fell out one by one,
And the fur on his body gave off a bad pong.
The tail of a mouse he held tight in his teeth,
And the stink, it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a thin face and an over-sized bulge,
That obviously, Rat Nick liked to indulge.
He was awful and bad, an evil old elf,
And I squeaked when I saw him, in spite of myself.
A glint in his eye and a twist of his head,
Made me feel so scared that I wished I had fled.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all our stockings, then turned with a jerk,
And putting a paw on the side of his snout,
He gave a small nod, through the hole he was out.
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 squeak as he drove out of sight,
"Be glad that I spared you, mouse, now good night!"
"Miracles do not defy nature; rather, they defy what we know of nature." St. Augustine.