Twas the night before Christmas and all through the shop
Not a worker was stirring, all projects were stopped
The chisels were left by the whetstone with care
In hopes that the elves would come sharpen them there.
The tools were all nestled and snug where they lay.
While visions of wood shavings danced on each blade.
Then up on the woodloft came such a clatter.
The whole building shook from the weight of the matter.And there on the creaky tin roof did appear.
A fine handmade sleigh drawn by ten dusty deer.
With a sparkly eyed craftsman as spry as a buck.
Who went by the nickname "Old St. Woodchuck".