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Gosh, what a lot of baubles on the tree. There are one, two, three...
Hello. I'm Simon. Merry Christmas. Are you having a lovely Christmas?
I was counting the baubles, making sure that they're all still there,
after the excitement on Christmas Eve.
A special visitor arrived, someone with lots of different names,
Pere Noel, Babbo Natale, Kris Kringle,
but you probably know him as Father Christmas or Santa Claus.
Tonight's bedtime story was written a long time ago,
when Father Christmas was known as St Nicholas.
Let me tell you Twas The Night Before Christmas
by Clement C Moore and John Jove.
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 our brains for a long winter's nap
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter
I sprang from my 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 midday 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 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, 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 the wild hurricane fly
When they meet with an obstacle mount to the sky
So up to the house top the coursers they flew
With the sleigh full of toys and St Nicholas too
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little 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 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 pedlar 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 on 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, 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 his 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!"
That story was called Twas The Night Before Christmas.
I think Father Christmas knocked some of the baubles off the tree
when he arrived on Christmas Eve.
While I put them back, it's time for you to go to bed
and dream of St Nicholas and his reindeer.
I'll see you soon for another story. Goodnight.
Now, where does this one go?
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