Twas the night before Christmas (Scotch Whisky Style)
by Jeffrey Toppiong
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the distillery
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The casks were all stacked in the warehouses with care
In the hopes that the Angles would soon have their share.
The stillmen were nestled all snug in there beds,
Whiles visions of Cask strength whisky danced in their heads.
And Mama in her kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just finished our drams for a long winter’s nap.
When out in the still house there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the distillery I flew like a flash,
Tore open the excise locks, and threw open the doors.
The moon on the copper of the old weathered stills
Gave the luster of midday to the warehouse below,
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature angel and eight tiny casks.
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be here to give my casks a nip.
More casks than a forest, his casks did roll in, and he whistled and shouted and called them by name.
Now Bourbon! Now Sherry!
Now, Hogeshead and Firkin!
On, Port Pipe! On Puncheon!
On, Pin and Kilderkin!
To the top of the lein Arm!
To the top of the pagoda!
Now Mash Away! Ferment Away!
Distill away all.
Merry Christmas from my family to yours
The Wild Scotsman
an original adaptation by Jeffrey Topping 2007