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But no one'd seen Santa; he hadn't come yet.
The chaps were all hung up, the boots neatly shined,
While out on the plains a right tough windstorm whined.
And Santa was in it, with reindeer and sleigh.
He'd blown in from Brownsville, down Mexico way.
He was squinting from dust and his beard had turned brown.
The reindeer were squealing; the sleigh sinking down,
Till it lurched to stop near the hills at Big Bend.
Santa said, "Here we'll wait for this dust storm to end.
"The sleigh's overloaded with great Texas toys.
"It's too hard to steer in the dust and the noise!"