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