Twas the night before start-up and all through the net,
Not a packet was moving; no bit nor octet.
The engineers rattled their cards in despair,
Hoping a bad chip would blow with a flare.
The salesmen were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of data nets danced in their heads.
And I with my datascope tracings and dumps
Prepared for some pretty bad bruises and lumps.
When out in the hall there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter.
There stood at the threshold with PC in tow,
An ARPANET hacker, all ready to go.
I could see from the creases that covered his brow,
He'd conquer the crisis confronting him now.
More rapid than eagles, he checked each alarm
And scrutinized each for its potential harm.