Old Santy Claus Came Out One Night

An old prospector is down on his luck, and he gets a most unexpected visit on Christmas Eve!

Old Santy Claus Came out One Night.

The miner bent sat in his shack
T’was Chrismas eve, the sky pitch black.
A blizzard roared outside his place,
A lonesome night for him to face.

Still, up he gits to hang his sock,
A nail he drives with played-out rock,
And hangs that stockin’ up with care
In hopes that Santy will be there.

Why--ain’t no cookies--nor no milk,
The finer things just ain’t his ilk.
No puddin’ pie, nor Christmas cake,
Those fancy things ain’t his to make.

His money’s gone; his claim won’t pay,
The vein he chased has pinched away.
Upon this ground he’s toiled his best
Those three-score nineteen years his test.

The things that always easy were
Just ain’t that way, not now, for sure.
Yet up he gits and hangs his sock,
He sez his prayers and winds the clock.

The storm, she smacks that shack about
But it’s built snug, the cold stays out.
So, off he goes to sleepy land 
But comin' soon, a visit’s planned.

It seems a grizzly’s wide-awake,
He’s huntin’ hard for grub to take. 
Then up he sneaks upon that shack.
(This ain’t no Santy with his pack!)

He checks the door and finds ‘er stout
It seems the miner’s locked him out.
That ain’t no Christmas way to awe
Twelve-hundred pounds of fur and claw!

So, Mr. Bear he checks the place
And sets himself a torrid pace.
He’s had no lunch since early fall . . .
He finds a weak spot in the wall--

(The stacked up rocks where shack met hill
That miner’d hid his mine with skill)--
Then Griz, he rips some stones away
And steps inside to eat and play.

He’s in a room, but not the shack
(This spot's fer grub and stores to pack)
His nose tells him, “The food’s in here.”
His stomach senses fun is near.

He finds a ham just hangin’ there
And chomps ‘er down without a care
He even finds a jug to try
He rips the cork, and drinks ‘er dry.

He’s feelin’ rather light of head
He staggers some, then off to bed.
The world she turns from night to day
The storm has purged itself away.

On Christmas morn the miner wakes
He checks his sock, his head he shakes.
No gifts therein, he feels right poor.
And hungry some, un-bars the door.

The storage room ain’t lookin’ fine,
A bruin’s there, he’s all supine. . .
If Santy Claus left him this brute,
Ol’ Santy thinks he’s mighty cute

Fer’ layin’ out this nasty gift,
That’s blockin’ up his minin’ drift!
Now, what to do? Well, that’s the trick
And thinkin’ thoughts he plans right quick

To tippy-toe around that bear,
And do it all with greatest care,
For if he slipped, or sneezed, or stomped
That miner’d get himself right chomped!

Then all at once, a brand-new plan.
He spies himself a blastin’ can.
He twists some fuse and strikes a light,
He’ll do this job, and do ‘er right.

A lengthy roll toward the bear,
Then thunder happens everywhere!
Now Mr. Bear is wide-awake--
An exit hole he sure does make.

The bear he's gone, but that there blast
Set things in motion mighty fast.
The ground and hill began to quake.
The living rock commenced to shake

The portals’ timbered rotting wood.
(His Christmas morn weren’t lookin’ good).
“Aw Durn”, he cussed, “She’s gonna’ give.
There ain’t much chance I'm gonna' live.

But he was wrong. And when t'was done
A Christmas gift that miner'd won.
For near the portal, to its right
He saw himself a golden sight.

A vein of quartz all laced with gold
His wondering eyes did there behold.
And in his mind he knew this was
His real gift from Santy Claus!

All the best,

Lanny

P.S. Here's some background info on what inspired me to write this poem--there's a Charles Russell (legendary Western artist and author) connection, as I believe the story I'll refer to in my following notes is from one of his early collections:

This poem is a compilation of several different experiences--the one where the bear broke into the trailer (through the window) of some mining buddies of mine and drank all of their canned beer--got hammered--and then tore through the door when he came to and wanted out.

Another is an experience from a very old western tale I read where two prospectors are lost in a blizzard on Christmas Eve, and their pack horses stop in the trail, as they know there's a cabin just off the trail that their human companions can't see. So, the prospectors hole up in the cabin for the night, hang their stockings (a token Christmas celebration as they won't be making it to where the celebrations are going on) and head off to sleep.

Well, in the back of the cabin (the tumbled-down part) there's a griz a-hibernating. The big fire they've built in the rock fireplace awakens him (and the smell of the bacon they'd fried does too), and pretty soon there's a big bear right in the main room licking up their leavings by the fire. Well, hot lead starts flying thick and fast, the bear becomes Christmas dinner, and after a feast, the boys decide to check out the fallen down part of the cabin where the griz was hibernating.

It turns out that there's a bunk under the caved part of the roof on one side, with the skeleton of an old-timer in it--all dressed out in buckskins, a flint-lock rifle laying beside him--a true old-timer--one of the first. So, that gets them thinking, and they scour the ruined part of the cabin, find a hiding place, and there's a nice, fat poke of gold cached in it! (They gave the weight in the tale--it was most impressive, but I can't recall it right now.) So those two old boys sure got their visit from Santy Claus.

Reviews

[Onlyme]

Exceptional storytelling, wonderful deep sights help within this poetic tale.

[Lanny]

Many thanks for your generous compliment, much appreciated!

All the best,

read moreMany thanks for your generous compliment, much appreciated!

All the best,

Lanny

[Onlyme]

Keep writing be looking forward to reading more from you.

[Lanny]

Many thanks for the encouragement.

[Onlyme]

Look forward to reading more from you Lanny. Dawn.

[Papaya]

this was such a fantastic tale, I loved the story, the rhyme was perfect.
You are a heck of a story teller.

[Lanny]

Wow! Thanks for the nice comment, and thanks for dropping in.

All the best,
read moreWow! Thanks for the nice comment, and thanks for dropping in.

All the best,

Lanny

[Papaya]

You're welcome :)

[Nolo Segundo]

Interesting poem--you have a talent for narrative poetry, echoes of Homer and Chaucer....

[Lanny]

Thanks for stopping by to be so kind. Homer and Chaucer . . . I can only dream, but I love the compliment.

All the best,

Lanny

[Gee]

Enjoyed this muchly. Fell off the tongue so easily and a good tale told.
You're good Lanny

[Lanny]

Many thanks for taking the time to read it, and thanks for the kind comments, much appreciated.
read moreMany thanks for taking the time to read it, and thanks for the kind comments, much appreciated.

All the best,

Lanny

[Chris Shaw]

An excellent narrative Lanny. I enjoyed reading the additional notes as well. Fine rhythm and rhyme throughout, a most entertaining read. First of yours I have read. Welcome.

Chris

[Lanny]

Your kind words are much appreciated. Thanks for taking the time to comment.

All the best,
Lanny