Woolwich & Wellesley Township's Local Community Newspaper | Elmira, Ontario, Canada
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‘Twas the hunt before Christmas

‘Twas the hunt before Christmas
And all through the marsh,
not a mallard was flying,
the cold it was harsh.
When up through the clouds there appeared
a great flight.
A sled and some reindeer,
we had no tag in sight.
And down from the sleigh the old guy did cry,
“There’s three coming in from the dark, dreary sky.”
So we reached for our shotguns and I put down my call,
and we tried to aim true so at least one duck would fall.
Six shots were sent forth though each far behind.
The mallards flew by,
Santa yelled, “Are you blind?”
But the ducks circled back like a gift that keeps giving,
so we shot once again, and still all three were living.
Old Saint Nick he laughed hard, and the ducks they kept flying
I cried “I never shot” but he knew I was lying.
“Come Dasher! Come Donner! Come Blitzen and Dancer!”
And he watched once again as I missed a merganser.
He circled once moreand before he was gone,
six geese flew by low but our safeties were on.
And he heckled too hardlike henever had missed,
I was thinking of filing a cease and desist.
When down by the bay there was quite a commotion,
a few hundred bluebills were all set in motion.
“I’ll give you this gift,” yelled the Red-Coated Elf,
“I cannot miss these,” I thought to myself,
But miss them I did, though I tried as I might,
I missed on the left and I missed on the right.
I missed in the middle, I missed on the flanks,
I was starting to think that my shells were all blanks.
And then from the sky fell a lonesome hen scaup,
we were all so amazed as we watched the thing drop.
It hit with a splash that made the dog merry.
“I got that darn bird,” said my partner named Larry.
“He did get it, Steve,” yelled the man in the sleigh,
“It looks like you’re going home skunked on this day.”
And then I looked up as a black duck flew near,
this most cautious of birds thought there was nothing to fear.
So I raised my gun quickly and I closed both my eyes,
I thought I couldn’t do worse than all my past tries.
I yanked on the trigger and I heard a great splash,
and the retriever with us brought it back in a flash.
And there was a black duck, a majestic old breed,
And attached to its leg was a note that did read,
“To my dear Steve, here’s a duck for your plate,
your shooting today was frankly not great.
So, under your tree is a case full of skeet,
practice on them,
Till the next time we meet.”

A little more local for your inbox.

Seven days. One newsletter. Local reporting about people and places you
won't find anywhere else. Stay caught up with The Observer This Week.

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