‘‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the boathouse
not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung in the sail loft with care,
in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
while visions of sailing ships danced in their heads.
Mama in her hammock and I in my cap,
had settled at last for a long winter’s nap.
When out on the bay 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, threw open the sash.
The moon on the water, the sand and the snow,
gave great luminescence to objects below.
When what to my wandering mind could increase,
but a bright red seaplane and eight Canada geese.
With a little ole pilot so lively and quick,
I knew right away it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than Seahawks his pontoons they came,
and he whistled and shouted and called them by name:
Now Flutter, now Flamer, now Flasher now Flier,
on Boomer, on Zoomer, on Honker and Crier,
to the top of the masts, atop the sea wall,
sail away, sail away, sail away all!
Then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof,
all the shuffling and slapping from each tiny webbed foot.
I stuck out my head and was looking around,
when down to the boat shed he slid with a bound.
His eyes how they twinkled, so gay!
His red suit now covered in sea spray.
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow.
The hair on his head was as white as sea foam.
He spoke not a word but went straight to his work.
He filled all the stockings, and turned with a jerk.
Laying a finger aside of his nose,
and giving a nod up the sail masts he rode.
He sprang to his plane, to his geese gave a whistle,
and away they all flew, like the down of sea thistle.
And I heard him exclaim as he flew out of sight.
“Merry Christmas to Hull, and to Hull a good night!”
Submitted by Helen Waldorf