Hogfather

     'Makes no difference,' said Albert, shrugging. 'I remember when I was a nipper, one Hogswatch  I had my heart set on this huge model  horse they had in  the shop  ...' His face  creased  for a moment in  a  grim smile  of recollection. 'I remember I spent hours one day, cold as charity the weather was, I  spent  hours with my nose pressed up against the window ... until they heard me callin', and unfroze me. I saw them take it out of the window, someone was in there buying it, and, y'know, just for a second I  thought it really was going to be for me ... Oh. I dreamed of that toy  horse. It were red and white with a real saddle and everything. And rockers. I'd've killed for that horse.' He shrugged again. 'Not a chance, of course, 'cos  we didn't have a pot to piss in and we even `ad to spit on the bread to make it soft enough to eat ...'

PLEASE ENLIGHTEN ME. WHAT  IS  SO IMPORTANT ABOUT HAVING A POT  TO PISS IN?

     'It's ... it's more like a figure of speech, master. It means you're as poor as a church mouse.'

ARE THEY POOR?

     'Well ... yeah.'

BUT  SURELY  NOT MORE  POOR THAN ANY OTHER MOUSE? AND, AFTER ALL, THERE TEND TO BE LOTS OF CANDLES AND THINGS THEY COULD EAT.

     'Figure of speech again, master. It doesn't have to make sense.'

OH. I SEE. DO CARRY ON.

     'O' course,  I still hung up my stocking  on Hogswatch  Eve, and in the morning, you know, you know what? Our dad had put in  this little horse he'd carved his very own self ...'

     AH, said Death.  AND  THAT  WAS WORTH MORE THAN ALL  THE  EXPENSIVE TOY HORSES IN THE WORLD,EH?

     Albert gave him a beady look. 'No!' he said. 'It weren't.  All I  could think of was it wasnt the big horse in the window.'

     Death looked shocked.

BUT HOW MUCH BETTER TO HAVE A TOY CARVED WITH...

     'No. Only grown-ups think like that,' said

     Albert. 'You're a selfish little bugger when you're  seven. Anyway, Dad got ratted after lunch and trod on it.'

LUNCH?

     'All right, mebbe we had a bit of pork chipping tor the bread ...'

EVEN SO, THE SPIRIT OF HOGSWATCH...

     Albert sighed. 'If you like, master. If you like.'

     Death looked perturbed.

BUT SUPPOSING THE HOGFATHER HAD BROUGHT YOU THE WONDERFUL HORSE---

     'Oh, Dad would've flogged it for a couple of bottles,' said Albert.

BUT WE HAVE  BEEN  INTO HOUSES  WHERE THE  CHILDREN HAD  MANY  TOYS AND BROUGHT  THEM  EVEN  MORE TOYS,  AND  IN HOUSES LIKE  THIS THE  CHILDREN GET PRACTICALLY NOTHING.

     'Huh, we'd have given anything to get practically nothing when I were a lad,' said Albert.

     BE HAPPY WITH WHAT YOU'VE GOT, IS THAT THE IDEA?

     'That's about the size of it, master. A good god line, that. Don't give 'em too much and tell 'em to be happy with it. jam tomorrow, see.'

     THIS IS WRONG. Death  hesitated. I MEAN ... IT'S RIGHT TO BE HAPPY WITH WHAT YOU'VE GOT. BUT YOU'VE  GOT TO HAVE SOMETHING TO BE HAPPY ABOUT HAVING. THERE'S NO POINT IN BEING HAPPY ABOUT HAVING NOTHING.

     Albert  felt a  bit  out  of  his  depth in  this  new  tide  of social philosophy.

     'Dunno,' he said. 'I suppose people'd say they've got the moon and the stars and suchlike.'

     I'M SURE THEY WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO PRODUCE THE PAPERWORK.

     'All I know is, if Dad'd  caught us with a  big bag of  pricey toys wed just have got a ding round the earhole for nicking 'em.'

IT IS ... UNFAIR.

     'That's life, master.'

     BUT I'M NOT.

     'I meant this is how it's supposed to go, master,' said Albert.

NO. YOU MEAN THIS IS HOW IT GOES.

     Albert leaned against the stove and rolled himself  one of his horrible thin  cigarettes.  It was best  to let  the master work his own  way through these things.  He got  over them eventually. It  was like that business with the violin. For three days there was nothing but twangs  and broken strings, and  then he'd never  touched the thing again. That was the trouble, really. Everything the master did was a bit like that. When things got into his head you just had to wait until they leaked out again.

     He'd  thought that Hogswatch was all ... plum pudding and brandy and ho ho ho and he didn't have the kind of mind that  could  ignore all the  other stuff. And so it hurt him.

     IT IS  HOGSWATCH,  said Death, AND PEOPLE DIE  ON THE  STREETS.  PEOPLE FEAST BEHIND LIGHTED WINDOWS AND OTHER PEOPLE HAVE NO HOMES. IS THIS FAIR?

     'Well, of course, that's the big issue ...' Albert began.

THE  PEASANT HAD A HANDFUL OF BEANS AND THE  KING  HAD SO MUCH HE WOULD NOT EVEN NOTICE THAT WHICH HE GAVE AWAY. IS THIS FAIR?

     'Yeah, but if you gave it all to the peasant then in a year or two he'd be just as snooty as the king---' began  Albert, jaundiced observer of human nature.

     NAUGHTY AND NICE? said Death. BUT IT'S EASY

     TO BE NICE IF YOU'RE RICH. IS THIS FAIR?

     Albert  wanted to  argue. He wanted to say, Really? In  that case,  how come  so many of the rich buggers is  bastards?  And  being poor don't  mean being naughty, neither. We was  poor when  I were a kid,  but we was honest. Well, more stupid than honest, to tell the truth. But basically honest.

     He  didn't argue,  though. The  master wasn't in  any mood  for  it. He always did what needed to be done.