The Night Before Christmas - Ol' South style

Twas the Night before Christmas Poem*

As recited to me by an old tenant farmer

when I was a child

'Twas the niat 'afore Christmus, whin all t'rou' de house
Notta critter 'as sturrin', 'cepten de mowses.
De stock'n's 'as hang'd b' de chimbly wit' kere,

Ahoap'n' thet Santy Clawse 'ould soon be thar.

De chilluns 'as all nested snug in ther bedstids,
'N' visions o' shugger-plums dainced 'round in ther li'l ole haids.
'N' mamma in 'er ‘kerchief, and me in m' cap,

'As jist settlin' ar brains fer a lon' winter’s nap.

When out ther on de lawn ther riz sich a clatter,
I jump'd outta m' bed t' see whut'as de matter.
O'er t' de winder Ah flew lak a flash,
Tore op'n de shutters and throw'd up d' saish.

The mooan on de boozz'm o' d' new-felled snow
Giv hit look lak d'middrla'd'day to stuff b'low.
Wh'n, whut to ma wunner'n' eyes sh'uld appears,
But a itty bitty slay, and haight tinney raindeers.

Hit hada li'l ole driv'r, s'liavly 'n kwick,
Ah know'd inna minnit hit haddabee ol' Sainty Nik.

Way fastern eegulls them critters they's comin',
'N' 'e whissal'd, and showt'd, 'n' holler'd at 'em b' name!

"Now Dasher! n' Daincer! n' Praincer 'n Vix'n!
On, Commet! On,Kewpid! On Donn'r 'n' Blitz'n!
T' de toppada poach! t'da top o' da wawll!
Now daish ahway! Daish ahway! Daish ahway all!"

Lak dry leafs 'afore de wile hurrykain flies,
Whin dey meet witcha obstickle, flies t' de sky.
So up t' d' house-top d' critters dey flewed,
Wit' de slay fulla toys,'n' Santy Clawse t'boot!

'N' then, inna trinklin', I heared on d' roof
D' praincin' 'n' paw'n' o' ich li'l hulf.
Whilst Ah's draw'n' in ma head, 'n' 'uz turn'n 'round,
Down thet thar chimbly Santy come witcha bound.

He 'as drest up all 'n fur, f'um 'is haid t' 'is futt,
'N' 'is cloz'as all soilt 'ith aishes 'n' sutt.
A bunnel o' toys 'e 'ad fling'd on 'is back,
'N' 'e look jis' lak a peddl'r, jis' open'n' 'is pack.

'Is eyes-how dey uz a trink'lin'! 'is dimpuls 'ow mairry!
'Is cheaks 'as lak roas's, 'is noase lak uh chairry!
'Is draw'd up li'l mowth look a lot lak a li'l boaw,
'N' de beerd on 'is chin 'uz whait 's de snoaw.

A stump uvva paip 'e helt taiet in 'is teath,
De smoak hit curkel'd 'round 'is haid liak a 'reath.
His'n uzza wiad faic 'n' a li'l ole round bellie,
Thet shuck whin 'e laif'd, laka bowl fulla jellie!

He 'as sorta chubbie 'n' plump, a r'at jollie ol' eff,
'N' Ah laiff'd whin Ah seen 'im, in spiat o' m'seff!
A wink o' 'is eye 'n' a turn o' 'is haid,
Purty soon Ah know'd t'wernt nuthin' t' be skeert uv.

'E sed nary wurd, b't wint straet t' 'is wurk,
'N' filt up all de stock'n's, thain turnt wit' a jurk.
'N' lay'n 'is faing'r upside 'is noas,
'N' giv'n' a nod, up de chimbly 'e riz!

'E lept t' 'is slay, t' 'is teem giv' a whissel,
'N' ahway they did all flied liak de down onna thissel.
B't Ah heir't im holler jist 's 'e driv outta siat,
" 'Appy Christm's t' y'all, 'n' t' y'all uh good-niat!"

- *With humble apologies to Clement Moore