the Night Before Wikimas

 

'Twas the night before Wikimas, when all through the Teahouse
Not an editor was stirring, not even a mouse.

The references had been inserted by users with care,
In hopes that St. Jimbo^[who?] soon would be there.

Most editors were nestled all snug by their beds,
While visions of new articles danced in their heads.
When out from a keyboard there arose such a clatter
I sprang to my screen to see what was the matter.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
but a question on sources and how to use them well here.

More rapid than eagles these questioners came,
And the hosts from the Teahouse welcomed each one by name.

 

 

"Now, em Dasher! Now, Images!
Now, Actrial! Now, Patrolled!
On, Users! On, IPs!
On, Young and on, Old!
To the top of each article, be it long, short or tall,
Now, type away, type away, type away all!"^{[This quote needs a citation]}

As dry words that before an old dictionary fly,
when they meet with a synonym, mount to the sky,^{[citation needed]}
So, onto these articles the edits they flew,
With a sleigh full of facts, and citations, too.

And then in a twinkling, I saw on the page
Our wiki-creator: a man of great age.
As I checked it on Commons and was turning around,
Down my router St. Jimbo came in with a bound.

Over 6 million articles he had flung on his back,^[quantify]
And he looked like most users with the editing knack.^{[according to whom?]}
His eyes – how they twinkled! slightly square – but how merry!
Too much editing, folks, had turned his nose red like a cherry!^{[medical citation needed]}
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow.^{[citation needed]}

 

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his editing,
And filled bare URLs; did sourcing and crediting
And confirming notability with a tap on his nose,
And pressing 'Publish changes', back up my modem^[jargon] he rose.

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew, leaving me to my epistle.^{[anachronism]}
But I heard him exclaim, 'ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Editing to all, and to all users a good night!"^{[This quote needs a citation]}

By Teahouse host, Nick Moyes
(with grudging acknowledgement to Clement C. Moore, 1823.)