So really the only difficulty with The Word Den is sometimes deciding which piece of imperishable genius to feature as a Saturday Rave. Today, however, the choice is so obvious that it's hardly a choice at all.
It's the night before Christmas, you see.
'Twas 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 hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in 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 the 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 lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and 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 courses 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! dash away all!
As dry leaves that before a wild hurricane fly,
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
His eyes - how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,