Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, except a brown mouse;
Santa had been there and saw what he saw,
A little brown creature with a little white paw;
He needed a pattern for to catch the brown trout,
So he struck up a deal with the little brown sprout;
For a warm place to settle and a crumb of soft cheese,
He became the new model for a pattern to please;
With thread and bobbin, and deer hair he spun,
To make up a tidbit sure to give fun;
And filling his fly box with a dozen or two,
He took the mouse home before anyone knew;
With fly vest and bamboo and flies of all kinds;
He headed upstream, wishing all, tight lines!
Merry Christmas!
TD