If Clement Clarke Moore's

"THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS"

had been written by Robert W. Service.

From 'MAD' magazine 1969 written by Frank Jacobs

A bunch of the boys were whooping it up
In 'The Malamute Saloon' one year,
All full of cheap whiskey and hoping like hell
That St. Nick would soon appear,
When right through the door and straight out of the night,
Which was icy and cold as a freezer,
Came a broken down sled, pulled by eight mangy dogs
Which were whipped by an old bearded geezer.

His teeth were half missing, and flapping his frame
Was a tatter of red-colored clothes;
He was covered with snow from his head to his toe,
And an icicle hung from his nose;
The miners all cheered when the geezer appeared,
And the poker game stopped in mid-bet;
Each sourdough smiled like a young, happy child
At the thought of the gifts he would get.

They pushed him aside and went straight for his bag
To be sure that they'd all get their share;
And oh, how they cried when they found that inside
There was nothing but old underwear;
So they plugged the old geezer, which was a great shame,
For if anyone there had been sober
He'd have known double quick that it wasn't St. Nick,
'Cause it only was early October!