Boston was stirring, he just slept on mom's blouse. The stocking was
hung by the Boston with care, in hopes that St. Nicholas had milkbones
to share.
The Boston was nestled all snug in his bed, while visions of pig
ears danced in his head. And mamma in her kerchief and a Boston on
my lap, had just settled down for a long winter's nap. When out on the
lawn there arose such a clatter, the Boston ran barking and caused ears
to hatter. Away to the window the Boston did dash, he was jumping and
barking - his teeth even gnashed.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow gave the lustre of
mid-day to tennis balls below. When what to our wondering eyes should
appear, but a little green sleigh and what appeared to be deer. With a
fat little man all dressed up in red, when the Boston spied him he ran
under the bed.
The Beebop Boston crazies had nothing on this guy, as they flew
o'er the house and landed nearby. He hollered and shouted and yelled
out their names, Now Dasher, now Dancer, now Prancer, and Vixen,
on Comet, on Cupid, on Donder, and Blitzen! To the top of the eave and
over the wall, and he landed quite neatly, avoiding a ball.
And then in a twinkling we heard on the roof, the prancing and
pawing, and the Boston said WOOF! I drew in my hand, and wiped my
forehead, the Boston still barking peeked out from the bed. Santa had
come down the chimney with a bound, the Boston got quiet, he didn't make
a sound.
Santa's eyes started twinkling and he grinned ear to ear, then I
heard his gruff voice as he whispered quite clear "and what do you
want my sweet little boy, a greenie, a tennis ball, a nice squeaky toy?"
He reached down and patted the Boston on his head, then turned to the
mantle and nodded his head. "I know what you want" he whispered
again, "I'll set it right here, my cute little friend."
The Boston was wiggling his butt in delight, and as Santa bent
over you could've heard a flea bite. Then suddenly kisses were rained on
his face, which Santa was quick to accept and embrace. Then setting the
Boston back onto the ground, he turned to me, winked, and then turned
back around. He patted the Boston once more on the head, then back up
the chimney he quickly sped. Again hearing clatter and prancing of hoof,
we ran to the window and looked up at the roof. As we watched this old
elf and his deer take flight, we heard him exclaim just as clear as
daylight...
MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL
AND TO ALL A GOODNIGHT!
Don't forget to set out the milk bones!
Contributed by Betty Ann Manganello
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