To Clement C. Moore

HODDER CHILDREN’S BOOKS
First published in Great Britain in 2018 by Hodder and Stoughton
This ebook edition published in 2018

Text copyright © Kes Gray, 2018
Illustrations copyright © Claire Powell, 2018
Slinky®

The moral rights of the author and illustrator have been asserted.
All rights reserved

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN: 9781 444 93924 8

This ebook edition has been created using CircularFLO from Circular Software.

Hodder Children’s Books
An imprint of Hachette Children’s Group
Part of Hodder and Stoughton
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50 Victoria Embankment
London, EC4Y 0DZ

An Hachette UK Company
www.hachette.co.uk
www.hachettechildrens.co.uk

Kes Gray and Claire Powell

’Twas the night before the night before Christmas
(That’s Christmas Eve Eve),
and Santa was wiping
his brow on his sleeve.

“Be quick!” Santa bellowed.
“There’s so much to do!
My list is so long
it just isn’t true!”

Green elves were sewing,
blue elves were counting.
Red elves were carving,
the pressure was mounting.

The elves put their heads down
and trebled their speed.
Ten billion presents
were what they would need.

Skateboards were oiled,
yo—yos were threaded.
Dollies were dressed,
teddies were teddied.

Swingballs were tested,
puppets were strung.
Board games were boxed,
Slinkies were sprung.

The workshop resounded
with elves hard at work.
There was no time to rest,
there was no time to shirk.

Santa looked down
and studied his list.
He was sure, he was sure
there was something he’d missed.

Aeroplanes? Bicycles?
Boomerangs? Drums?
Pogo sticks? Spinning tops?
Sugar mice? Sugarplums?

“Santa!” she grumbled.
“You’ve been asked, you’ve been told!
Now look what has happened — your dinner’s gone cold!”

Santa frowned crossly,
“I’ve no time to eat!
There’s reindeer to ready
and deadlines to meet!”

He ticked all the boxes
then turned with a jump.
Mrs Claus had arrived with
a plate, and the hump.

The reindeer woke up
and climbed to their feet.
They had slept for a year
and needed to eat.

The cold winter stew
got plonked on a table.
Santa harrumphed
and went to the stable.

“Up Dasher! Up Dancer!
Up Donner and Blitzen!
Up Comet! Up Cupid!
Up Prancer and Vixen!”

The North Star was twinkling,
snowflakes were falling.
Excitement was building,
Christmas was calling.

With reindeer refuelling
and time ticking by,
Santa ran out and
looked at the sky.

Back in the workshop
the shelves were now lined
with presents and gifts
of every kind.

Kites had been ribboned,
printing sets inked.
Spinning tops balanced,
tiddlies winked.

Toys had been tested,
batteries loaded.
Instruments tuned,
computer games coded.

Dolls’ clothes were folded,
annuals were printed.
Tangerines polished,
chocolate coins minted.

“Remember!” said Santa,
“Our schedule is tight!”
The elves gave a nod
and worked through the night.

Popguns were loaded,
footballs inflated.
Candy canes twisted,
train sets tin—plated.

Santa thought hard
as the present piles grew.
He was sure there was something
he’d forgotten to do.

With take—off time now
only hours away,
he raced back outside
to inspect the sleigh.

Jet—washed and polished,
red, silver and gold,
the sleigh was a picture,
a joy to behold.

The elves in hi—vis
had done Santa proud.
“Da dah!” they exclaimed
as they threw off the shroud.

“Good job!” Santa shouted.
“Three cheers for you!
If I didn’t know better,
I’d say it was new!”

Inside the workshop
the elves began clapping.
The presents were made,
it was time to get wrapping!

“Keep going!” cried Santa.
“It’s Christmas Eve morning!
There’s no time for breakfast
and no time for yawning!”

Paper was folded,
scissors were snipped.
Labels were written,
fountain pens dipped.

I guess you could say
that elves have the knack.
SEE! Ten billion presents . . .

. . . in one magic sack!

“You’ve done it!” cheered Santa.
“We are done! We are there!
And not only that —
with minutes to spare!”

He ran through his list
and checked it all through.
What was it? What was it
he’d forgotten to do?

Santa cried
with a nod and a wink.
The reindeer took off,
and were gone in a blink.

With a wave to his helpers,
he raced to the sleigh,
made himself comfy
and sat—navved the way.

As dry leaves before
a spent hurricane slow,
so calmness returned
to the landscape below.

“Santa!” she panted,
jumping the gate.
But Santa was gone;
Mrs Claus was too late.

Chaos and mayhem
became stillness and peace,
until Mrs Claus ran out
in her best winter fleece.

“It’s the same every year!”
she said with a wave.
“NICHOLAS, MY DEAR . . .

. . . YOU’VE FORGOTTEN TO SHAVE!!”

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