Everyone in the old Shire liked Yuletide a lotâŚBut King T, living deep in the greenwood, did not!Now the elf hated Yuletide! The whole Yuletide season!Now, please donât ask why, heâd forgotten the reason.It could be he feared that their jollityâd spread.Or it could be, perhaps, that his crown pinched his head.But I think that the Kingâs best kept secret of all,Was simply his elk was two sizes too small.It had shrunk in the wash when heâd put it on boil,So that now when he trotted his boots dragged the soil.But whatever the reason, his elk or his head,He stood there on Yuletide Eve, speechless with dread,Glaring out from afar with a sour Elven pout,At them laughing and joking and larking about.For he knew every Hobbit, his face lit with cheer,Had been busily drinking from barrels of beer.âAnd theyâve dozens more barrels!â he snarled with a sneer,âAnd tomorrow is Yuletide! Itâs practically here!âThen he sighed, with his delicate elf-fingers drumming,âI MUST find some way to stop Yuletide from coming!âFor the next day he knew, every Shire lass and lad,Would wake bright and early then fetch mum and dad!And then! Oh, the yelling! The Noise!Noise! Noise! Noise!Thatâs one thing he hated! The NOISE!NOISE! NOISE! NOISE!And then every Hobbit would meet for the feast.Where theyâd eat! And theyâd eat! And theyâd EAT!EAT! EAT! EAT!They would munch fatty goose and then gulp nut brown beer,(A custom King T found repellent and queer!)And THEN theyâd do something heâd wished theyâd forget,(on account of it causing him pain and regret)For just when the elf kingâs fair head had stopped ringing.Theyâd gather in groups and off-key would start singing!Theyâd mangle the tunes! And theyâd SING!SING! SING! SING!And the more that they chorused, the more his head stung,(He was ready to tie a fat knot in each tongue)âWhy, for centuries long Iâve put up with this row!ââSo I MUST stop their Yuletide from coming! But HOW?âThen he got an idea! Quite a horrible plot,And it pleased him so much he was laughing a lot!The King laughed all the way from his toes to his gizzard -âIâll go over there and pretend Iâm a wizard.âAnd he chuckled, and clucked, âWhat a fabulous day!ââWith this coat and this hat, Iâll be Gandalf the Grey!âAnd Iâll tell them âsit quietlyâ and act very old,Then those innocent hobbits will do as theyâre told.âNow all I need is a large horseâŚâ King T looked around.But, since he preferred elk, there were none to be found.Did that stop the Kingâs plan? No! The King simply said,âIf I canât find a carthorse, Iâll make one instead!âSo he called up his elk, then dismembered a mop,And then glued great long strands on behind (and on top)Then he harnessed the elk to a motheaten rickety sledge,Piled with boxes and sacks dangling over the edge,Then the King said, âChop chop!â And the elk sensing ireTrundled off to the Hobbits so snug in their Shire.All their windows were shuttered, the whole place was still,All the Hobbits were dreaming (and some snored quite shrill)When he came to the first little house on the hill.âThis is stop number one,â the sneaky elf smiled,As he climbed on the roof, feeling quite like a child.Then he oozed down the chimney (his hips were quite slim)It wouldnât do Gandalf but this worked for him.He got stuck only once â by his hair and great woes, Then he shoved his head out with soot smuts on his nose.And seeing their table piled high with good things,Out jumped our King T with a vigorous spring!Then he slithered and slunk - most determined his mood -Around the whole room, and he stole all their food!Jam tarts and crusty bread! Savoury bakes!Pastries and plum puds and mince pies and cakes!These he squashed them in bags. Then the King, very nimbly,Stuffed all of those bags, one by one, up the chimney!Then he nipped to the pantry, he nabbed all their ham,And their beef and their turkey, their goose and their lamb!Then he emptied their cellars, or so runs this taleRight down to their very last barrel of ale!Then he stuffed all their food up the chimney with cheer.âAnd now!â smirked the King, âI will stuff up their beer!âAnd the King grabbed the barrel, and started to toil,When he heard a sharp hiss like a kettle on boil.He turned around fast, and he saw a small lad,Watching him closely and looking quite sad.Master Bilbo had spotted the King and his sack,When heâd snuck out of bed his third night-time snack  So he stared at the King and said, âWhy Gandalf, why,â"Why are you taking our Yuletide feast? WHY?âBut you know, that old elf-king was so smart and smooth,That he cooked up a fib in an effort to soothe!âWhy, my dear silly fool,â the fake grey wizard lied,âThereâs this lovely big cake thatâs not iced on one side.ââIâm a dab-hand with frosting, Iâll bring it straight back,âAll magic and whole âfore youâve finished your snack!âAnd his fib fooled the lad. Then T patted Bâs head,And he fixed him a sandwich, and sent him to bed.And when Bilbo returned to his room without fear,Thranduil rushed to the chimney and shoved up the beer!Their table was bare, he left nothing to nibble,Then shinned up the chimney himself, without quibble.On their walls he left naught but a rather rude scribble!And the one bit of food that evaded his clutch,Was a lone Brussels sprout he was too scared to touch.Then He did the same thing to every small dwelling,Leaving nothing to eat while his glee was a-swelling.It was quarter past dawn⌠Everyone still a-bed,All a-snoozing and snoring while he packed the sled,Crammed high with their foodstuffs! Their fruit in a can!Their beer, cheese and fruit cake! A gingerbread man!In the Ettenmoors frosty he found a nice hole,And decided to leave all of their stuff to a troll!âHa ha to the Hobbits!â the elf king was humming.âTheyâre about to find out that no Yuletide is coming!ââTheyâre just waking up and their cupboards are bare!â âTheir mouths will hang open, theyâll stomp and theyâll stare,And ask why the grey wizard just wouldnât share!â"Their lament,â thought King Thranduil, Iâm dying to hear!âSo he waited with hand poised on white, shell-like ear.And he did hear a sound rising up to the sky.It started off low, but then bubbled up high,But the sound wasnât mournful! In fact it was jolly!All jolly, and bouncy, and merry. By golly!He gaped at the Hobbits, and rubbed at his eyes,Then he gasped! What he heard was the strangest surprise!Everyone in the Shire, from the wee to the small,Was singing! Without any breakfast at all!âI havenât stopped Yuletide!â He groaned with a curse, âSomehow or other, Iâve just made it worse!And the King, whose white feet left no print in the snow,Plucked at the elkâs harness, "How could it be so?ââHow can they be joyful? Theyâve nothing to scoff.ââSince I prowled through their houses and carried it off!âThen he stared at the elk, and the elk rolled its eye.And fluttered its lips with a âcome on thenâ sigh.âYou can figure it outâ and the King gave a cryâMaybe Yuletideâ He hollered, âMeans more than plum pie!â And what happened then? Well, the Hobbitfolk say,That the King grew a little respect on that day!And finding their simple life looked pretty good,Trundled back with his elk and his sled, through the wood.He returned all their food and their barrels of beer,Then he joined them in many a cup of good cheer.So he sang and he drank till he got quite unstable And with his new friends, he danced on the table!
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