Good evening and welcome to bedtime with Bavis. Tonight to celebrate the holiday season

we're reading, t'was the night before Christmas, when all through the house,

not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

in the hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of sugarplums danced in their heads.

And Mama and her kerchief 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 the luster of midday to objects below.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a miniature sleigh, an eight tiny reindeer.

With a little old driver so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be St Nick. More rapid than eagles his courser's they came and he whistled and shouted and called them by name.

Now Dasher, now dancer, now prancer, and vixen, on comet, on Cupid, on Donner and Blitzen, to the top of the porch, to the top of the wall now 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 house top the courses they flew, with the slave full of toys and St Nicholas too.

And then in a twinkling I heard on the roof, the prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

As I drew in my hand and was turning around down the chimney, St Nicholas, came with a bound. He was dressed all in fur from his head to his

foot, and his clothes were 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 dimples, how merry, his cheeks were like roses, his nose like a

cherry, his droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, and the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, and the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.

He had a broad face at a round little belly that shook when he

laughed like a bowl full of jelly. He was chubby and plump a right jolly old elf, and I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head, soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

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