‘Twas the night after Christmas, and all through the store
Not a creature was stirring, not even GM;
The pallets were sitting in receiving with care,
In hopes that spotters soon would be there;
The stockers were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of pay-raises danced in their heads;
And Larry in his ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter’s nap,
When out on parking lot there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the breakroom to see what was the matter.
Away to the door I flew like a flash,
Tore past LP and knocked over the trash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of midnight 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 Doug Wallace.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
“Now, Grocery! now, GM! now, Produce and Bakery!
On, Service! on Floral! on, Texas Backyard!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now stock away! stock away! stock away all!”
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So back to receiving the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of pallets, and green totes too.
And then, in a slamming, I heard at the back door
The hemming and hawwing of each little department.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Through the backdoor Randy 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 returns 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 plenty to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the aisles; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, out the backdoor he went;
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, as he drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and be done by six!”
