Published originally in the General Store column of Bluegrass Unlimited, December 2004.
With apologies to the original writer Clement Moore and to Dr. Suess.
‘Twas the night before Christmas,
And all through the house,
Not a picker was stirring,
Not even a mouse.
The party was over.
We were picking no more,
But guitars and banjos
Still covered the floor.
The fiddles were nestled,
All snug in their cases,
While corners and couches
Supported the basses.
And Pa in his long johns,
And I in my cap,
Had just settled down
For a long winter’s nap.
When out on the lawn,
I heard music making,
So I sprang to the window
To see what was shaking.
I couldn’t believe it,
Could scarce take it in.
‘Twas the Bossman himself
With an old mandolin
And standing beside him
Were Lester and Carter,
And Sara and Maybelle
And Sally Ann Forrester.
With Chubby and Benny
And Hartford on fiddle
And Red, Don, and Mac,
Standing there in the middle.
And off to the side,
With angelic faces,
Were Cedric and Ed Ferris
Plunking their basses.
Charlie and Duffy
Were there in the pack.
Curly Ray with his key chains
Was standing in back.
Bill was dressed in his jodhpurs
And shiny black boots.
The rest were all wearing
Their best Sunday suits.
They played high and lonesome.
They played fast and slow,
They played all the old songs,
And then turned to go.
And for their last number,
You know what they did?
“Christmas Time’s Coming”
Yes, sir, they sure did.
And when they had finished
Tex Logan’s great song,
They closed with a hymn.
They sang “Farther Along.”
As the last notes died out,
And they wafted away,
I could hear mandolin chimes
Coming my way.
And I heard them exclaim
As they faded from sight
Merry Christmas to all!
And to all a good night!
Murphy Method Blog 