Monday, 24 December 2007

Christmas Eve!

Santa and the Packer - author unknown....

Santa clause was in a fix, the worst you could believe,
For his reindeer team had quit on him, and it was Christmas Eve.
This was even worse, than that foggy night,
When Santa called on Rudolph, to help him in his plight.

For Dancer had bog spavins, and Prancer had a cough,
Donner suffered from colic, and Blitzen's shoes had all come off.
Comet wheezed from bad distemper, Cupids hind leg was lame,
Dasher was off his feed and Vixen was the same.

It was early in the journey, yet the reindeer team was through,
The sleigh was filled with toys, What was Santa to do?
So when Santa saw this cabin, with a window light aglow,
He nursed the team to the place, and stopped out in the snow.

He trudged upto the shanty, and knocked apon the door,
He was greated by a packer, judging from the garb he wore.
"Hello my name is Santa Claus" declared the fat man dressed in red,
"I've had some grave misfortune, that has stopped me in my stead."

"You see I drive eight reindeer, that pull this little sleigh.
But now my team is ailing, and we cannot make it on our way."
"I'd say you've got big troubles," the stranger then did chime,
"Your welcome to lay over here and make the trip another time."

"Oh I can not." Said Santa. "For this is Christmas Eve,
What would the children think, what would they believe,
For if on Christmas morning, they found no gifts and toys?
They'd think Santa was a blowhard, just full of sound and noise."

The packer thought but just a minute, then he said "I'll lend a hand,
But best we hurry, if we're to get across this land."
They went quickly to the tack shed, laid open wide the door,
Pulled out canvass bags and panniers, and other packing gear galore.
The contents of the sleigh, then was quickly boxed or sacked,
Wrapped up tight in canvas, best known as manti packed.

And the packer whistled, and in from out the night,
Trotted eight fine pack mules, it was the grandest sight.
Their ears were up and forward, each one looked the same,
Yet when the packer saddled, he called each one by name.

In a flash the mules were ready, a saddle on each back,
Crossbuck and Ritter, Decker and Salmon River tack.
Then the Christmas gifts were loaded, the packs were lashed down tight,
Box hitched or double diamonded, slung or barrel hitched right.

Then the packer said to Santa, "Now I'll lead this string,
But sliding down the chimneys, sure ain't my kind of thing.
So Santa you best mount up and with us you must go,
For I will be your guide, but I won't say Ho, Ho, Ho."
Before Santa could object or think of a reason why,
He was deep seat in the saddle, and they were on the fly.

Now the presents got delivered, the children received their toys.
But folks said Christmas Eve was different, they heard the strangest noise,
And some of them are certain, they swear to this very day,
Instead of hearing sleigh bells ring, they heard a pack mule bray.


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