Cajun Christmas
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~ Cajun Night Before Christmas ~


'Twas the night before Christmas

An' all t'ru the house

Dey don't a t'ing pass

Not even a mouse.


De chirren been nezzle

Good snug on the flo'

An' Moma pass the pepper

T'ru the crack on de do'.


Den Moma in de fireplace

Done roas' up de ham

Stir up the gumbo

An' make bake de yam.


Den out on the by-you

Dey got such a clatter

Make sound' like old Boudreau

Done fall off the ladder.


I run like a rabbit

To got to de do'

An' fall on de flo' !!

As I look out de do'

In de light of de moon

I t'ink "Manh, you crazy

Or got ol' too soon.


Cuz dere on the by-you

W'en I stretch ma' neck stiff

Dere's eight alligators

A pulling a skiff.


An' a little fat drover

Wit' a long pole-ing stick

I know r'at away

Got to be ole St. Nick.


Mo' fas'er an' fas'er

De 'gator dey came

He whistle an' holler

An' call dem by name:


"Ha, Gaston!

Ha, Teboy!

Ha, Pierre an' Alcee!

Gee, Suzette!

Celeste an' Renee!


"To de top of de porch

To de top of de wall

Make crawl, alligator,

An' be sho' you don' fall."


Like Tante Flo's cat

T'ru de treetop he fly

W'en de big ole houn' dawg

Come a run hisse'f by.


Like dat up the porch

Dem ole 'gatores clim

Wit' de skiff full of toy

An' St. Nick behin'.


Den on top de porch roof

It soun' like de hail

W'en all dem big 'gator

Done sot down dey tail.


Den down de chimmy

I yell wit' a bam

An' St. Nicklus fall

An' sit on de yam.



"Sacre!!" he axclaim

"Ma pant got a hole

I done sot ma'se'f

On dem red hot coal."


He got on his foots

An' jump like a cat

Out to de flo'

Where he lan' wit' a Splat!!!


He was dress in musk-rat

From his head to his foot

An' his clothes is all dirty

Wit' ashes and soot.


A sack full of playt'ing

He t'row on his back

He look like a burglar

An' dass fo' a fack.


His eyes how dey shine

His dimple, how merry!

Maybe he been drink

De wine from blackberry.


His cheek was like a rose

His nose like a cherry

On secon' t'ough maybe

He lap up de sherry.


Wit' snow-white whisker

An' quiverin' belly

He shook w'en he laugh

Like de stromberry jelly!


But a wink in his eye

An' a shook of his head

Make me confi-dence dat

I don' got to be scared.


He don' do no talking

Gone straight to his work

Put playt'ing in sock

An' den turn wit' a jerk.


He put bot' his han'

Dere on top of his head

Cas' an eye on the chimmey

An' den he done said.


"Wit' all of dat fire

An' dem burnin' hot flame

Me I ain't going back

By de way dat I came."


So he run out de do'

An' he clim' to de roof

He ain't no fool, him

For to make one more goof.


He jump in his skiff

An' crack his big whip

De 'gator move down

An' don' make one slip.


An' I hear him shout loud

As a splashin' he go

"Merry Christmas to all

"Til I see you some mo!"


By "Trosclair"


This story won a Clio Award in 1967 from the Academy of Television and Radio Advertising.




Cajun Twelve Days of Christmas

Day - 1
Dear Boudreaux,
Tanks for da bird in da Pear tree. I fix it las' night with dirty rice. I doan tink da pear tree will grow in da swamp, so I swap it for a Satsuma.

Day - 2
Dear Boudreaux,
Your letter say you sent two turtle doves, but all I got was two scrawny pigeon. Anyway, I mix dem with andouille (Cajun sausage) and made some gumbo out of dem.

Day - 3
Dear Boudreaux,
Why doan you sent some crawfish. I tired of eating dem damn birds. I gave two of dose prissy French chickens to Marie Trahan over at Grans Bayou and fed da tird one to my dog, Phideaux. Marie needed some sparring partners for her fighting rooster.

Day - 4
Dear Boudreaux,
Mon Dieux! (My God) I tole you no more friggin birds. Deez four, what you call dem, "calling birds" was so noisy you could hear dem all da way to Napoleonville. I used dere necks for my crab traps, and fed da rest of dem to da gators.

Day - 5
Dear Boudreaux,
You finally sent someting useful. I like dem golden rings, me. I hocked dem at da pawn shop in Thibodeaux and got enuf money to fix da shaft on my shrimp boat and buy a round for da boys at da Raisin' Cane Lounge. Merci Beaucoup! (Thanks Much)

Day - 6
Dear Boudreaux,
Couchon! (Pig!) Back to da birds, you coonass turkey! Poor egg suckin' Phideaux is scared to death at dem six geeses. He tried to eat dems eggs and dey peck da heck out ah his snout. Dey good at eating cockroaches, dough. I may stuff one of dem wit erster dressing on Christmas day.

Day - 7
Dear Boudreaux,
I gonna wring your fool neck next time I see you. T' fi boutan! (Kiss my ass!) Thibeau, da mailman, is ready to kill you dead. Da merde (crap) from all dem birds is stinkin' up his mailboat. He afraid someone will slip on dat stuff and sue him good. I let dose seven swans loose to swim on da bayou and some duck hunters from Mississippi blasted dem out of da water. Talk at you tomorrow.

Day - 8
Dear Boudreaux,
Poor ole Thibeau had to make tree trips on his mailboat to deliver dem 8 maids a milkin and dere cows. One of dem cows got spooked by da gators and almost tipped over da boat. I doan like dem shiftless maids, me no. I tolt dem to get to work guttin fish and sweeping the shack but dey say it was no in dere contract. Dey probably tink dey to good ta skin da nutrias (Bayou Rat) I caught las night too.

Day - 9
Dear Boudreaux,
What you trying to do, huh? Thibeau had to borrow the Lutcher ferry to carry dem jumpin twits you call Lords-a-Leaping 'cross the bayou. As soon as dey gots here dey wanted a tea break wit crumpets. I doan know what dat means but I says, "Well La Di Da. You get Chic'ry coffee or nuttin." Mon Dieu, Emile. What I'm gonna feed all dese bozos? Dey too snooty for fried nutria, and da cows ate my turnip greens.

Day - 10
Dear Boudreaux,
You got to be out of your mind! If da mailman don't kill you, I will for sure. Today he delivered 10 half nakid floozies from Bourbon Street. Dey said dey be "Ladies Dancin" but dey doan act like ladies in front of dem Limey twits. Dey almost left after one of dem got bit by a water moccasin over by my out-house. I had to butcher 2 cows to feed toute le monde (everybody) and get toilet paper. Da Sears catalog was no good enuf for dose hoity-toity lord's royal behinds.

Day - 11
Dear Boudreaux,
Where Y'at. Cheerio and pip pip. Your 11 pipers piping arrive today from da House of Blues, second lining as dey got off da boat. We fix snuffed goose and beef jambalaya, finished da whiskey and we be having a fais-do-do (Dance). Da new mailman drank a bottle of Jack Daniels and he having a good time dancing with da floozies. Da old mailman jumped off of da Sunshine Bridge yesterday, screaming your name. If you get a mysterious, ticking package in da mail, doan open it.

Day - 12
Dear Boudreaux,
I sorry to tell you but I am not your true love no more. After da fais-do-do, I spent da night with Jacques, da head piper. We decided to open a restaurant and gentleman's club on da bayou. Da floozies, pardon me, "ladies dancing", can make $20 for a table dance, and da lords can be waiters and valet park da boats. Since da maids have no more cows to milk, I trained dem to set my crab traps, watch my trotlines, and run my shrimping business. We be probably grossing a million dollars next year finis Joyeaux Noel--Merry Christmas. May Papa Noel follow the bonfires and find your homes on Christmas Eve!






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