Title:TWAS THA’ NIGHT A’FORE CHRISTMAS CUTTER GAP STYLE Author: SaraJane TWAS THA’ NIGHT A’FORE CHRISTMAS CUTTER GAP STYLE BY BENJAMIN PENTLAND, ESQUIRE Twas tha' night 'afore Christmas, an' all through Cutter Gap, Not a letter were delivered cuz ah were takin' a nap. Ma mailbag was hung by the chimney with care, In hopes that darlin' Corneila soon would be there. Ah were nestled all snug-like, alone in ma bed, While visions of Ma Darlin’ done danced in ma head. Now she had her a kerchief, an ah liked it jes fine, An ah'd soon see her in it at a quarter-ta-nine. When out on the dirt road there arose such a clatter, Ah spranged from ma bed ta see what was the matter. Away to the window ah' flew like a flash, Tore open the shutters and threw up.....tha sash. It were Corneila in moonlight looking purer than snow, She were two hours early - why - ah' wanted ta know. When what ta ma wonderin' eyes should appear But a steam-engine buzz saw running loud in ma ear. It were my big-boned beauty, so lively and quick, Ah grabbed a piece of maple so's she'd make me a walkin' stick. She looked...oh, so pretty, ah felt ma heart in ma frame, And I yelled "Ah' love ya, Corneila! Do ya feel the same?" Her face fell, her jaw, it done hung ta tha' ground, An' ah' yelled again, "Wait fer me, Ah'm a coming on down!" Oh dash it, ma letters, ah'll jest first grab tha' mail, If ah fergets ta deliver it they'll throw me in jail! Ah looked through the pile, the names was all there: Now Miss Hattie, now Rob, now Polly and Mountie, On Alice, on Opal, my! what a bounty. Down to tha' porch, did ma sweet hear me call? Now dash away! Dash away! Down past the hall. Out tha' door dry leaves hit me an' splinters ta fly As they met with an obstacle, me--by and by. So out on tha' steps an' down them ah flew Ta pay court ta ma Corneila, ma sweet little Baboo. An' then, in a twinklin', ah heerd in tha' air, A cry of amazement, ah could only then stare. As ah drew back ma head an was turnin' aroun', Corneila picked me right up an' she set me right down. She was dressed all in fur, from her head ta her foot, An her clothes were a mess from the splinters and soot. A bundle of hand tools were belted round her waist, She looked oh so pretty ma little heart raced. Her eyes --- how they twinkled, her dimples, how merry! Her cheeks were likes roses, her nose like a cherry. Her droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow An' tha hairs on her chin was becoming, ya know. The stump of a pipe she held tight in her mouth, An tha' smoke it near stalled me like fog in tha' south. She had a broad face, an' a little round belly, That shook when she laughed like a bowl full 'a jelly. She were chubby and plump, an' tha' plaid of her shirt Was real clean an' not showing even one speck a' dirt. A wink of her eye an' a twist of her head, Soon gave me ta know ah had nothin' ta dread. She spoke not a word an' went straight ta her work, A pulling, and chopping the wood, all berserk. It were a mighty fine mailbox, with my initials and all, Ah was so happy with it, Ah started to bawl. Her gift were so purty, and Ah handed her mine, A little sumthin’ ah picked up at the ol’ five & dime. She didn’t much like it, twas a spatula, ya see, Wanted a ring on her finger, but it weren’t meant ta be. Ah likes writin' poems fer tha’ ladies, young ones an’ old, Ah was drawn ta her fine woodwork if the truth really be told. So, ah sprang ta ma mule an' ah gave 'im a whistle, An' away we trotted down the road like a thistle. Some cove folks heerd me exclaim as ah rose out a sight, Merry Christmas to all, this has sure been some night! Ben awoke from his dream covered in sweat. "What a piece of foolishness. Now don’t that beat all."