And the writers were nestled all snug in their beds while dreams of adventure and romance danced in their heads ...
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, that they sprang from their beds to see what was the matter.
Away to the window they flew like a flash, tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
What to their wondering eyes should appear, but a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer.
With a little old driver that looked like St. Nick, they rushed to their bedstands to write it down quick.
More rapid than eagles their pens heralded his fame. They whistled, and shouted, and called out his name.
They scooped up their manuscripts, took one last call, jumped to the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
To the editor! The publisher! Let's dash away all!
Merry Christmas everyone!