Gusts of wind blew torrents of snow against the window. The jailer shivered as he wrapped his coat tighter around himself in an unsuccessful effort to get warm. He knew he shouldn't complain; there were several rodents freezing in alleys, rodents who would gladly accept his job if offered. His thoughts wandered to his wife and children, and a smile crossed his lips as he remembered the feast that awaited him when he arrived home to celebrate this most joyous of all holidays with those he loved.
Hearing a sigh, he turned to the newest arrival, an inmate who had arrived only that morning. The convict's eyes were wide with terror as he considered the trial and possible sentence that awaited him, but he managed to smile.
"Even someone behind bars has to cheer up a bit on Christmas, eh?" He sighed again. "My mother used to read a poem to us every year, but I guess now I've got my own version of it."
So saying, he began to recite:
'Twas the night before Christmas
And all through the house
Not a creature was stirring,
Not even a mouse.
The children were nestled
All snug in their beds.
"Great night for a robbery!"
Ratigan said.
We pillaged their home,
Careful not to wake them;
Putting money in bags,
Stealing each precious gem.
When out on the lawn
There arose such a clatter
The boss rolled his eyes
And sighed, "Now what's the matter?!"
He squinted to see
In the light that was dim
And swore under his breath,
"Oh curses! Not him!"
My own breathing quickened,
For out in the fog
Came a sound only made
By a certain sleuth's dog.
I knew that my heartbeat
Was certain to quit
When I heard the voice
Instruct Toby to sit.
He muttered some words
That gave me quite a scare,
"This home has been robbed,
And the fiends are still there!"
"Confound him!" the boss muttered.
"Who needs this hassle?!
If my cat were here,
I'd be finished with Basil!"
And then, in a moment,
I'd hidden myself,
Desperate to find refuge
Behind a small shelf.
As I ducked down my head
And was turning around,
Through the doorway, the famous
Sleuth came with a bound.
His eyes-how they twinkled!
His smug grin-how merry!
This detective with wits
That surpassed ordinary!
With his pipe in his mouth,
He examined the snow,
Searching for clues that would
Lead him right to his foe.
Ratigan merely laughed
As he twirled his long cape.
"Did you really believe
That I couldn't escape?!"
"Enjoy your plans
That are certain to fail!
Very soon," Basil vowed,
"I shall see you in jail!"
The boss got away
Through an open window,
And so did the others,
But I was too slow.
"Avoiding Basil's not hard!"
So I thought,
But his hand seized my wrist,
And I knew I was caught.
He led me outside,
Much to my desolation.
The rest of the night
Was my interrogation.
Now I'm stuck in a jail cell
As I sit and write:
"Merry Christmas to all,
And to all a good night."
Having finished his poem, the criminal stared at the bars that surrounded him, wondering how many years it would be before he was once again able to celebrate Christmas with friends and family, but understanding he had brought this torment on himself. The jailer, no longer aware of the bitter chill, was suddenly overcome with a sense of gratitude for his own blessings that he had often taken for granted. He had heard other delinquents mention life under Ratigan, and he suddenly felt a wave of pity for his newest charge.
As if reading his mind, the inmate replied, "Don't feel bad for me. Any Christmas without my boss is a merry one as far as I'm concerned. Besides, Basil promised to speak to the judge in my favor."
"How did you earn his sympathy?" the jailer inquired.
"It wasn't too hard." The lawbreaker grinned. "I complimented his violin skills."