A CMAS StORY

    t ing, or any ot aforesaid, every person so offending so ty.

    Statute enacted by t of

    Massacts, May 1659, repealed 1681

    t before Cmas. Silent nig. tc. etc. etc.; let traditional anticipatory magic of Cmas Eve, and t it.

    Forget it. Even if te moon above Boston Bay ensures t all is calm, all is brigmas as suc noer dream.

    (Dream, t uncensorable state. t if they could.)

    At t time, for alking about a long time ago, about ter ures on tinent t  lay under ter nor more pure tentions.

    to e more largely; to inscribe the name of God.

    And t omorro t her day.

    For t none are holidays.

    Ne turned over; Old England is ty linen t  -- did t recently ual integrity, ters ogetoo orgiastic a fashion.

    Noticularly radical about t, given tans basic premises. Anyone can see at a glance t a Maypole, proudly erect upon trument. t of Cotton Mation reel. No. test genius of tans lay in ty to sniff out a pagan survival in, say, tom of decorating a ive season; tuff of ws would be made!

    And taste for try, graven images! -- is less subtle t at tive season itself. It ivity of it t irked them.

    Nevert assuredly is a gross and ice, to ing, drunkenness, and lewd displays of mumming and masquerading.

    e  none of t filthis new place.

    No, thank you.

    As midnigtle in to tablisom of over sixteen ers able; time, tily refrained from idolatry and .

    Boston Bay, calm as milk, black as ink, smoot just t spins on its spindle and starts to unravel its o w one could call, elsewching hour --

    I sahree ships come sailing in,

    Cmas Day, Cmas Day,

    I sahree ships come sailing in

    On Cmas Day in the morning.

    t as g s smas past.

    And hree?

    Not, as in t;t;; t ory of t you mig be reading tion must obey tuality. (Some of t t s of mossy Yule logs bound toget o tes, t t represents  oter ripe fruit on ter in memory of t nobody in Neree Carol, t tells o pick eful and told o ask to  t, tree bo.

    Clinging to t of tree letoe, sacred since time,  o perform solstitial rites of memorable beastliness at megalites all over Europe.

    Yet more mistletoe dangled from t invitation to the free exchange of precious bodily fluids.

    And  buncs of red ribbon?  is a wassail bob.

    t you did  to took out a jar of o give trees tmas drink. All over Somerset, all over Dorset, everyry of Old England, time out of mind, trees at Cmas, get them.

    You pour tree trunks, let it run doo ts. You fire off guns, you c. You serenade ture apple crop and next years burgeoning, you quot;; toast ty in last years juices.

    But not in t and greenery ed from to tion officials at t of t of entry for memory, sensed contraband in t;Permission to land refused!quot;

    t explosion of green leaves, red berries, , red seeds from bursting pomegranates, of spattering ctering flo to ttered uous flesree spirits and fertility goddesses rived to cmas.

    t ained were gone.

    But to belc amids t abstemious dreamer   in takable s neared s could be seen t tself  just out of tening ter, gilded h egg yolk.

    Not a s all, in fact, but a Cmas pie!

    But no self up to let tumbling out into ter a smoking cargo of barons of beef gleaming s and roast geese dripping  fat. And ted apple in its moutucked bes ears. Above,  of mustard, h wings.

    ting pie came ants of to salivate in their sleep.

    But t burnt offerings and pagan sacrifice of pig, bird and cattle could never be condoned. In unison, to turned tern backs.

    tard pot ser, it dove doo ttom of tmeats t dissipated itself gradually, like sea  too mucoo indigestible, and rejected it, so t to sink.

    t not only of gluttony but also of dyspepsia, sigh relief.

    No.

    t tion an especial eeriness.

    t so t concrete kind, ts and spars ions  ley creypes aboard, ail of to see them.

    Reeling to and fro on tumbling and dancing, mas dancers t Cotton Mated so, every one of tural. t-a-tat-tat on tly jingling ttle bells on tous revellers used to ive season back   t;merryquot; into Merry England!

    And no on forcing ts to celebrate Cmas o or no.

    t t George, ed silver, urkis, a cableclotied round urban, fencing o every Cmas in try, going from o  ed far more deeply in antiquity t claimed to celebrate.

    t of t George and turkis figil Saint George knocks turkis door, o life again -- a sion. (Or else a ritual of revivification, depending on ones degree of fait.)

    ter of ting revels mas, to itco ts, ly fell doo be cer a glimpse of tocks. op  sported paper roses. ed bladder tered true antique, as old as tival t existed at mider before Cmas  of. Older.

    s live, all year round, in terror. Fatmas is ard son, w being obscene enough.

    ted ter Solstice, turns. t Saturnalia and let t for tion, urvy and almost everyt occurred s at time of t s today.

    Yet from tom festival on thing is forgiven.

    A merry Cmas is Cotton Mat nightmare.

    If a little merriment imparts itself to t experience it as pleasure. tables, and tered beasts; t tolerate,  of unreason t used to mark, over ted season of ts are longer t run and you t  never come back again.

    t cry: Avaunt t thee hence!

    tous sime. And taking its Dionysiac cre.

    But, just as  to be engulfed, t mas pudding t still floated on ter. tmas pudding, sprigged uffed s, raisins, almonds, figs, compressed all tmas contraband into one fearful sphere.

    tohe shore.

    too,  dolantic gulped , t .

    Except, next morning, before datle cing t reluctantly into tance to t toes and, investigating furto t glee, eacs oness, plump as if it  came from  overegrating Cmas pudding.