Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house;
Not a cat was stirring, and certainly not a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the cat tree with care,
In hopes that St. Gertrude soon would be there.

The kittens were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of catnip danced in their heads.

When outside in the play box there arose such a clatter;
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window sill, I jumped in a flash;
Getting ready to pounce or if necessary dash.

When what to my eyes did I see on the mat,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny cats.

With a little old lady smiling and laughing with joy,
I thought, St. Gertrude with a sleigh full of toys!
More rapid than a cats paw her Cats they came,
And she whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:

"Now, Luna! now, Milo! now Fluffy! and Cuddles!
On, Cookie! on, Boots! on, Mittons! and Snuggles!

To the top of the table! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

So up to the housetop the cats they flew,
With the sleigh full of catnip, and St. Gertrude too—
Down the chimney she came; quiet as a mouse;
She gave a wink in my direction and looked around the house.

She went right to her work with nary a word;
Filling the stockings with catnip, without being heard.
Then with a blink of her eye and a nod of her head;
Up the chimmey she rose, so I headed for bed.

But I heard her exclaim, as she flew out of sight—
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”

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