EBENEZER SCROOGE
The infamous moneylender loosens his wallet (and his belt) once a year for an extravagant repast of fire-warmed toast and a certain kind of mint sweet. It’s all in the spirit of Christmas…
A SLICE OF MY LIFE
DECKING THE HALLS
Tinsel. Baubles. Christmas trees. Such ridiculous notions and a complete waste of money. Trees are meant to be burned and then very rarely. My clerk, Cratchit, acts sometimes as if we should light a fire, even on days when the Thames hasn’t frozen over. The extravagance of some people.