The users were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of Open Rails danced in their heads; And Eric in his RV, and I with my mouse, Had just settled down in a quiet, not yet finished house.
When out on the forum there rose such a clatter, I clicked on “Recent Topics” to see what’s the matter. Away to the browser I flew like a flash, To see if the server had suffered a crash.
The glow of the monitor, bright on the screen, Showed the top-trending files that were yet to be seen. When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a new North Pole Route, crisp and so clear!
With a little old driver, so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be Saint Nick. More rapid than high-speeds his engines they came, And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
"Now, Dash 9! Now, Challenger! Now, E9 and Northern! On, Southern! On, Chessie! On, Soo and North Western! To the top of the Sand Patch! To the top of the wall! Now throttle up! Throttle up! Throttle up all!"
As Kodachrome units that stray far and wide, When they meet with a mountain, they climb up the side, So up to the route-tops the consists they flew, With a sleigh full of WAGs, and Saint Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof The rhythmic thump-thump of a compressor for proof. As I drew in my head, and was turning around, Down the Caboose chimney St. Nick came with a bound.
He was dressed all in denim, from his head to his foot, And his clothes were all tarnished with diesel and soot; A bundle of downloads he had flung on his back, And he looked like a brakeman just opening his pack.
His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples how merry! His cheeks were like SP red, his nose like a cherry! His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath; He had a broad face and a little round belly, That shook, when he laughed, like a DLC jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old rail, And I laughed when I saw him, and checked my e-mail; 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 updated the changelogs; then turned with a jerk, And laying his finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, up the overhead wire he rose;
He sprang to his cab, to his team gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight, "Happy Railroading to all, and to all a good night!"
