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| The Week After Christmas |
| Twas the week after Christmasand all through the house every creature was hurting, even the mouse. The toys were all broken, their batteries dead; Santa is sleeping, with some ice on his head. Wrapping and ribbonsstill on the floor. while upstairs the familycontinued to snore. I in my t-shirt, new Reeboks and jeans, went into the kitchen and started to clean. When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter I sprang from the sink to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash, tore open the curtains, and threw up the sash. When what to my wondering eyes whould appear, but a little white truck with an oversized mirror. The driver was smiling, so lively and grand; the patch on his jacket said "U.S. Postman". With a handful of bills, he grinned like a fox then quickly he stuffed them into the box. Bill after bill they still came whistling and shouting he called them by name: "Now Dillard's, now Broadway's, now Penny's & Sears, here's Levitz's and Target's and Mervyn's, all here. To the tip of your limit, every store, every mall Now charge-away, charge-away, charge-away all. He whoope4d and he whistled as he finished his work. He filled up the box, and turned with a jerk. He sprang to his truck and he drove down the road, 'driving much faster with just half a load Then I heard him exclaim with great holiday cheer. Merry Christmas to all, you'll be paying all year! |
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