'T'T was the night before Shaihuludmas, when all through the sietch
Not a creature was stirring, not even a letch;
The stilsuits were hung by the glowglobe with care,
In hopes that St. Worm soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of literjons danced in their heads;
And mamma in her keffiyeh, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long shita'a's nap,
When out on the dune there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the doorseal and threw up the sash.
The moons on the breast of the newly blown spice
Gave the lustre of mid-day to our windtrap device,
When, what to my wondering eyes should bespawn,
But a miniature carryall, and eight tiny kulon,
With a massive old driver, so lively and firm,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Worm.
More rapid than 'thopters his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
Now, Otheym! now, Farok! Now, Stilgar and Korba!
On, Turok! On Jamis! On, Liet and Harah!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the Shield Wall!
Now ya! ya! yawm! ya! ya! yawm! ya! ya! yawm all!
As 'thopters that before the wild sandstorm fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the sietch the coursers they flew,
With suspensors full of water, and Shai-Hulud, too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney Shai-Hulud came with a bound.
He was segmented all over, from his head to his foot,
And his skin was all replaced with a sandtrouty suit;
A bundle of flagons
he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a waterseller just opening his pack.
His eyes--how they twinkled! His cowls how merry!
His mien was a pose, a pose quite contrary!
His droll little mouth was full of crysknives,
And the leer in his grin hid the sighs of his lives.
The stump of a catchtube he held tight in his teeth,
And the spice it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old worm,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of my squirm;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stilsuits; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his carryall, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew with the sound of a missile.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Shaihuludmas to all, and to all a good-night!"
'T
