Twas the night before christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. the stockings wewe hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that St nicholas would soon bethere
The children were nestled all snug in their beds, with dreams of sugarplums dancing in their heads. and mamma in her 'kercheif and i in mt cap had just settled our brains for a long winters 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 like a flash, tore open the shudders and threw up the sash.
the moon on the breast of the fresh fallen snow gave luster of mid day to objects below when what to my wondering eyes should apppear but a mineature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer
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