'Twas the Night Before Christmas' (with apologies to C. C. Moore) 'Twas the night before Christmas, back home on the farm, The cattle were chewing their cuds in the barn, The feed bags were hung by the mangers with care, In case old Saint Nicholas chanced to stop there. The heifers were nestled all snug in their stalls While visions of summertime danced 'cross the walls. Well, me in my slippers and Ma in her smock Had just finished filling our littlest one's sock -- When out in the barnyard there rose such a clatter, I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew in a fright, Turned on the yard light, and peered through the night. The moon's mystic light on the snow-covered scene Made the countryside look like a fog shrouded dream; When, what sailed right under some low hanging boughs But a miniature sleigh, and eight undersized cows, With a little old driver, so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be Saint Nick. More strongly than tractors his little cows came, And he whistled, and "So-bossed" and called them by name: "Now, Dolly! now, Debbie! now, Pammie and Flossie! On, Cora! on Countess! on Dinah and Bossie! To the top of the barn, to the front of the stall Now, dash away, dash away, dash away, all!" As dry chaff that before the summer breeze flies, When a quick gust of wind gets the dust in your eyes, So, on past the milk house those tiny cows flew, With a sleigh full of gifts -- and Saint Nicholas, too. I saw them descend on the roof of the barn So I dashed from the house, eyes wide with alarm. As I fastened the door and was turning around, Down the hay chute Saint Nicholas came with a bound. He was dressed in blue denim from collar to cuff, And his clothes were all covered with hayseeds and stuff. His pocket revealed a bright kerchief of red, And a farmer-type cap perched way back on his head. It suddenly struck me, I think you'll agree, He's a miniature version of you or of me. As he put down his bundle with lightning-like speed, He looked like a farmer just opening some feed. His eyes how they flashed when he opened his pack And pulled out some gifts for the heifers out back; Some glass for the window that lets in the breeze, A coil for the pipes so the water won't freeze. More grain for the milk cows, some straw for their stalls, Lime for the alleys to stop those bad falls, Semen from sires with a thousand pound plus -- Things that make cows just as happy as us. He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, And filled all the feed bags, then turned with a jerk, And laying his finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, up the hay chute he rose. I stood there a moment, my head hung in shame, I'd forgotten my cows when this Christmastime came, So I patted old Bessie as I turned out the light, "Happy Christmas you cows, and to all a good night!" |