Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was sleeping not even the mouse. The stockings were thrown over the back of a chair, no energy for hanging St. CF Nick wouldn't care. Ma-ma in her recliner and I on the couch had just taken more ambien "man, she's a grouch!" When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, I crawled to the window to see what was the matter. I looked out the window, tried the neighbors not to flash, for no one had had the energy to hang the shutters or sash.The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow, gave a lustre of mid-day to the grass peaking through I didn't mow. When what to my groggy, blurred eyes did appear, but a minature sliegh and eight tiny riendeer. With a little old driver so slow and so sick, I knew in a moment it must be St. CF Nick. More rapid than eagles his courses they came, as he stammered and stuttered trying to remember thier name: "Now Dash, umm, let me think, Dasher! now Dancer! now, oh, what's your name, Prancer and vixen! now Stupid! no Cupid! on Comet , Donder and Blitzen! To the top of the porch ! To the top of the wall! Now dash away, dash away, dash away all!" And then in a twinkling , I heard on the roof, the prancing ans pawning of each little hoof. As I drew in my hand, and tried to turn around, I took a dizzy spell and fell to the ground. Down through the chimney, Santa he fell, all chubby and plump, he didn't look well. A wink of his eye and a twist of his head, soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread. He spoke not a word , but went straight to work, he half filled the stockings, then his muscles they jerked. Then laying a finger aside of his nose, and giving a nod up the chimney he rose. He crawled to his sliegh, to his team tried to whistle, and away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight,"Laugh every day if it takes all your might!" Merry Christmas!