‘Twas Less Than One Month…

Twas less than a month before Christmas, when all through Cove Country Store and its Farm, several creatures were stirring…Action Jackson the Terrier-ist, Mikey the Goat, Clover and Mallow, the mini horses, the big horses Jet and Blossom, and Sampson the Hounddog!


Their stockings were all hung by Paul’s new chimney with care, in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there! The pups were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of doggie treats danced in their heads. And Cheryl in her Welles, and Paul on his tractor, had just finished remodelling the country store from floor to rafter!



When out on the Loch there arose such a clatter, Jackson sprang from his doggie bed to sort out the matter. Away to the window he flew like a flash, Jumped through the doggie door, causing quite a big crash.

There was one set of hoof prints in the new-fallen snow, when Mikey the Goat realised they weren’t his or the horses, could they be of a foe? Then what to all their wondering eyes should appear, but a miniature sleigh, and one tired shabby reindeer.


With a little old driver, so lively and quick, the animals knew in a moment they must help St Nick. More rapid than eagles his coursers they claim, so he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

Now Jackson, now Mikey, now Mallow and Clover, on Sampson, on Jet, on Blossom, come on over….the top of your hay stack! And then over the barn, Dash away! Dash away! Dash away from your farm!



So up to the house-tops, the coursers they flew, with the sleigh full of animal toys, and St Nicholas too. And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof, the prancing and pawing of each little paw and hoof. As I drew in my head, and was turning around, Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound. He was dressed all in faus 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 and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful 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.



He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk. And laying his finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose! He sprang to his sleigh, to the Country Store team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight, “Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”

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