Speaker 1: Welcome to Mind Over Murder. I'm Kristin Dilly.
Speaker 2: And I'm Bill Thomas, and we're bringing.
Speaker 1: You a special holiday bonus episode of Mind Over Murder
with our very first poetry reading.
Speaker 2: Wow, you mean we're not going to talk about true crime.
Speaker 1: We are not. There was no way to make Santa
Claus and it was a serial killer, so we decided
to just do a street up holiday classic.
Speaker 2: I like it.
Speaker 1: We are going to read in tandem for you all.
A visit from Saint Nicholas, which most people know as
the Night before Christmas.
Speaker 2: Some people say twas the night before Christmas.
Speaker 1: And if you had ask my students what twas means,
they would not be able.
Speaker 2: To tell you, but you'd explain it to them because
you're a great teacher.
Speaker 1: I would certainly try twas the night before Christmas, or
the night before Christmas, or a visit from Saint nick whatever.
Float Your boat was first published anonymously in eighteen twenty three,
and the authorship was later claimed in eighteen thirty seven
by a gentleman by the name of Clement C. Moore,
and he claims that he wrote this for his children
on Christmas Eve in eighteen twenty.
Speaker 2: Two, and it was first published in the Troy, New
York newspaper. And like all good literature, there's some controversy
about who wrote it. There's actually another gentleman who claimed
that he wrote a Visit from Saint Nicholas, but we'll
leave it with Clement Seymore.
Speaker 1: This has been called the best known verses ever written
by an American, and it is responsible for some of
these concepts that we have of Santa Claus today. So
for your listening pleasure, a Visit from Saint Nicholas by
Clement Seymour.
Speaker 2: It twas the night before Christmas. Went all through the house,
not a creature was stirring a mouse. The stockings were
hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that Saint
Nicholas soon would be there.
Speaker 1: The children were nestled all snug in their beds, while
visions of sugar plums danced in their heads. And Mamma
in her kerchief and I in my cap, had just
settled down for a long winter's.
Speaker 2: Nap, 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.
Speaker 1: The moon on the breast, the new fallen snow gave
the luster of midday to objects below. When what to
my wandering eyes should appear but a miniature sleigh and
eight tiny reindeer.
Speaker 2: With a little old driver. So lively and quick I
knew in a moment it must be Saint Nick, more
rapid than eagles. His coursers. They came, and he whistled
and shouted and called them by name.
Speaker 1: Now Dasher, now dancer, now prints, and vixen, on comet,
on Cupid, on donder, and blitzen. To the top of
the porch, to the top of the wall. Now dash away,
dash away, dash away.
Speaker 2: All as dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly.
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the housetop the coursers they flew, with
a sleigh full of toys, and Saint Nicholas too.
Speaker 1: And then in a twinkling I heard on the roof
the prancing and pawing of each little hook. As I
drew in my hand and was turning around down the chimney,
Saint Nicholas came with a bound.
Speaker 2: He was dressed all in fur from his head to
his foot, and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes
and soot. A bundle of toys he had flung on
his back, and he looked like a peddler just opening
his pack.
Speaker 1: 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 on his chin was as white as the snow.
Speaker 2: The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
and the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly
that shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
Speaker 1: He was chubby and plump, all right, jelly, old elf.
And I laughed when I saw him in spite of myself.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his
head soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
Speaker 2: He spoke not a word, but went straight to his
work and filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk,
and laying his finger aside of his nose, and giving
a nod up the chimney.
Speaker 1: He rose, he sprang to his sleigh, to his cheem,
gave a whistle, and away they all flew like the
down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim ere
he drove out of sight. Happy Christmas to all, and
to all a good night from both of us. Here
at mind of a murder, we'd like to issue a
Merry Christmas, happy Holidays, and happy and healthy New Year.
Speaker 2: The