, Port Arthur, Texas


December 21, 2013

Chester Moore column: Twas the night before Christmas at hunting camp

PORT ARTHUR —  (This fun rendition of the holiday classic has become a tradition for me to run every year. I hope you all enjoy it and can share it with your kids. Merry Christmas!)

    'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the camp

    Not a creature was stirring, not even a lab.

    The socks they hung by the chimney with care,

    In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

    The young sportsmen were nestled all snug in their beds,

    While visions of redfish swam through their heads.

    And mamma in camo, and I neatly matched,

    Had just settled down for a long winter's nap.


    When out on the marsh there arose such a clatter,

    I jumped from the bed to see what was the matter.

    Away to the window I flew like a teal,

    Tore open the shutters and to see what was the deal.

    The moon hitting down on the strong tidal flow

    Gave the luster of mid-day to objects below.

    When, what my weary eyes did spy

    Eight tiny gators and a pirogue in sky.

    With a little old driver, so lively and quick,

    I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

    More rapid than widgeons his gators they came,

    And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name.

    "Now, Boudreaux! now, Trahan! now, Broussard and Comeaux!

    On, Bergeron! on Savoy! on, Dugas and Thibodeaux!

    To the top of the camp! to the top of the wall!

    Slither away! Slither! Slither away all!"

    As dry leaves that before the blue norther do fly,

    When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.

    So above the pilings-top the coursers they flew,

    With the sleigh full of prizes, and St. Nicholas too.

    And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof

    The prancing and clawing of each reptile foot.

    As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,

    Down the chimney, St. Nicholas came with a bound.

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From the Fieldhouse blog