THE NIGHT BEFORE CATMAS...
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
Twas the night before Catmas ... Author Unknown
... When all through the house and mat, not a creature was stirring, not even a cat. The stockings were hung by the litter boxes with care, in hopes that St. Kittylas soon would be there. The kittens were nestled all snug in their baskets, while visions of tunafish swam in their furry heads. And mamma cat in her den, 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 den 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 newly fallen snow gave a soft sheen of lustre to midday objects below. When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny puppies. With a little old driver, so lively and swift, I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick. More rapid than eagles his coursers 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, Donder and Blitzen! to the top of the den, to the top of the wall, now dash away, 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 housetop the coursers they flew, with the sleigh full of toys- and St. Kittylas, too! And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof, the prancing a thudding of each little paw. As I drew in my head, and was turning around, down the chimney Santa Claws came with a bound. He was dressed all in silk, from his ear tips to his tail, and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of catmint filled plush mice he had flung on his back, and he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack. His eyes, how they sparkled! 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. He had a broad face, and a little round belly, that shook when he laughed like a bowl full of grape jelly.
He was chubby and plump- a right jolly old cat, and I chuckled 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. He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, and filled all the litter boxes, then turned with a jerk. And lying a claw aside of his nose, up the chimney he rose. He sprang to his sleigh, to his puppies he gave a whistle, and away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere they drove out of sight, ''Happy Catmas to all, and to all a good night!''