"The Night Before Christmas" read by Keith Morrison
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IT was the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was storing and even a mouse. The stockings were hung by the chimp ney with care, and hops the same. Nicholas soon would be there.

The children were nestled, all snugged in their beds, visions of sugar plumbs danced in their heads, and mom and her crops. And I am my cap and just settle down for a long winter nap. When out on the line or a rose subject player, I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter a way to the window.

I flew in the flash and tour, open the shutter and throw up the sash. The moon on the breast of new phone snow gave the luster of midnight objects below. And what do I wondering? Eyes should appear, but the mini slay.

Eight tiny rain there, the low driver, so lively and quick, I knew in a moment that must be knick more rapid than eagles as courses, they came and he whistled and shouted, called them by name. Now dasher, now dancer, now prancer and vacation on comment on stupid, on dunder and blitzen. To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall.

Now, dash away. Dash away. Dash away. As dry leaves before the wild hurricane fly, when they meet with an obstacle mount of the sky. So up to the house talk is courteous.

They flew with the slave full of toys and signals as to, and then in a tweet, ling, I heard on the roof prancing and paying. I reached little hoop as I drew in my hand and was turning around down the chimney. Sync s came with the band.

He was all dressed in fur from his head to his foot, and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and suit, a bundle of toys and fung g on his back. And he looked just like a pedler opening his pack, his eyes, how they twinkle, these discs on marries cheeks. We're like roses is nose like a Cherry.

This draw little mouth was drawn up like a bow. And the bird of his chin was White as the snow, the step of the pipe, he held tight in his teeth and the smoke and circled his head like a read. He had a broad face in a around little belly that shook when he laughed like a bully delly.

He was chubby and plumper, right? Jolly old day. And I laughed when I saw I am in spider of myself. A wink of his eye and the twist of his head soon gave me to know I had nothing to read.

He spoke not a word, but one straight to was work, and filled all the stockings and turn with a jerk and laying his finger a side of his nose and giving a nod up the channel. He rose. He's springing to a slay to his team, gave a whistle in the way they all flow, like the down of this to so.

But I heard him exclaim air. He drove out of sight. Happy Christmas to all and all. Good, good night.

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