(With apologies to Clement C. Moore)
By C. L. Beck
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Every creature was sneezing, including the mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that some Kleenex soon would be there.
The children were stuffy, asleep in their beds,
While visions—from Sudafed—danced in their heads.
And Mom with her cough drops, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a few minute's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter . . .
The moon on the breast of the new‑fallen snow
Gave the luster of mid‑day to objects below,
When, what to my watering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight sneezing reindeer,
With a little old driver, that smelled of some Vicks,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Sniffles! Now, Coughing! Now, Hack'n and Sneezy!
On, Drippin'! On Blowin'! On Sore Throat and Wheezy!
To the medicine chest that's down the hall,
Now cough away! Cough away! Cough away all!"
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
Gave everyone Halls, then turned with a jerk,
And laying some Vicks aside of his nose,
And giving a sniff, up the chimney he rose.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a sniffle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"ROBITUSSIN TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT!"