DOTLAN EveMaps

Every Who down in Whoville liked Christmas a lot.
But the Grinch who lived just North of Whoville did not! The Grinch hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season! Now, please don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason. It could be, perhaps, that his shoes were too tight. It could be his head wasn't screwed on just right. But I think that the most likely reason of all May have been that his heart was two sizes too small. But, whatever the reason, his heart or his shoes, He stood there on Christmas Eve hating the Whos, Staring down from his cave with a sour, Grinchy frown At the warm lighted windows below in their town, For he knew every Who down in Whoville beneath Was busy now hanging a hollywho wreath. "And they're hanging their stockings," he snarled with a sneer. "Tomorrow is Christmas! It's practically here!" Then he growled, with his Grinch fingers nervously drumming, "I must find some way to keep Christmas from coming! For, tomorrow, I know all the Who girls and boys Will wake bright and early. They'll rush for their toys! And then! Oh, the noise! Oh, the noise! Noise! Noise! Noise! There's one thing I hate! All the NOISE! NOISE! NOISE! NOISE! Fahoo forays, dahoo dorays... "And they'll sing! And they'll sing! And they'll SING! SING! SING! SING!" And the more the Grinch thought of this Who Christmas Sing, The more the Grinch thought, "I must stop this whole thing! Why for fifty-three years I've put up with it now! I must stop Christmas from coming! But how?" Then he got an idea! An awful idea! The Grinch got a wonderful, awful idea! "I know just what to do!" The Grinch laughed in his throat. "I'll make a quick Santy Claus hat and a coat."
"This is stop number one," the old Grinchy Claus hissed, As he climbed to the roof, empty bags in his fist. Then he slid down the chimney, a rather tight pinch. But if Santa could do it, then so could the Grinch. He got stuck only once, for a minute or two. Then he stuck his head out of the fireplace flue Where the little Who stockings hung all in a row.
"These stockings," he grinched, "are the first things to go!" Then he slithered and slunk, with a smile most unpleasant, Around the whole room, and he took every present! It was quarter of dawn. All the Whos still a-bed,
All the Whos still a-snooze, when he packed up his sled,

Packed it up with their presents, their ribbons, their wrappings,
Their snoof and their fuzzles, their tringlers and trappings!

Ten thousand feet up, up the side of Mount Crumpet,
He rode with his load to the tiptop to dump it!

"Pooh-pooh to the Whos!" he was grinchily humming.
"They're finding out now that no Christmas is coming!

They're just waking up! I know just what they'll do!
Their mouths will hang open a minute or two
Then the Whos down in Whoville will all cry boo-hoo!

That's a noise," grinned the Grinch, "that I simply must hear!"