The Night Before Duck-mas

‘Twas the night before Duck-mas when all through the nest, not a creature was stirring, not even another duck; All the duck-stockings were hung by the duck-chimney with care in hopes that St. Duckolas soon would be there; The ducklings were nestled all snug in their nest, while visions of watercress danced in their heads; And Mamma-duck in her ‘kerchief and I in my cap, had just settled our duck-brains for a long winter’s nap, when out on the waterfront there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my nest to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a ducky-flash, tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.




Revised version coming soon

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