The elf said, “I’m Tizzy,” a tear in his eye,
Gazing up at O’s face (which was elf-stories high).
“That’s an odd kind of name, isn’t it?” Alex said.
Hearing this, Tizzy’s face turned a Santa Suit Red.
“Every elf in our section has that kind of name.
S. C. makes them up; it's a kind of a game.
There’s Whizzy, who rushes around, always scurries.
He probably packed me, in one of his flurries.
Now, Fizzy and Dizzy—they both specialize
In holiday treats and in toys that surprise:
Hand buzzers and squirt guns and magical rings,
Jacks in the boxes and those sorts of things.
Then Bizzy, of course, is S. C.’s right hand man
He bosses the others whenever he can.
Quizzy makes puzzles and games—quite a trick!
She turns them out cleverly. My, she is quick!
Our Frizzy’s the resident expert up there
At cutting and curling the Christmas dolls’ hair.
While Blizzy’s the last (she’s my favorite lass)
She fashions the snowflakes that swirl under glass.”
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