Originally Posted by Nebe (Post 239592)

Twas the night before christmas and all through the cave
not a plug was spinning.. not even the lathe-

The lures were hung by the rafters with care
with hopes that saint Eben soon would be there

The Bassmasters were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of Surf howdes danced in their heads;

And mamma in her 'waders, and I in my hipboots,

Had just settled down for a long winter's roll playing,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

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

Away to the window I flew like a flash,

Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

Only to see my cave along with my stash

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow

Gave the lustre of envirotex to objects below,

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,


But a miniature sandsled, and eight tiny reindeer,

With a little old driver, who smelled like bass heaven,

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

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,

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

"Now, Danny! now, Pikie! now, Flaptail and Spook!

On, Needle! on Popper! on, Pencil and Darter, you fook!

To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!

Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

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

So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,

With the sleigh full of Plugs, and St. Eben too.


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

The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

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

Down the chimney St. Eben came with a bound.

He was dressed all in Aquaskins, from his head to his foot,

And his Plugbag was tarnished with Salt and soot;

A bundle of plugs he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;

Then he said to me as loud as can be...

I've come for your plugs, And Just so you know........

Some call me a fisher, Some Call me a Hoe...

I took him to the cave and gave him a hug....


and all he left me was one lousy plug...

He Hoed all my Lures, my hooks, and my tools

I chased him through the night like an April Fools..

He sprang to his sled, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.


But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,

"Happy Hoe-ing to all, and to all a good-night."