In making this PDF version of the Hamper the page numbers have gone awry (and I have lost

patience trying to put them right). Each number is 3 too great and against the wrong margin

Christmas Hamper
2011

Packed by John Roch

Christmas Hamper
2011

hamper1 / 0 hampb / n. 1 a large basket usu. with a hinged lid and containing food (picnic hamper) or US laundry. 2 Brit. a selection of food, drink, etc., for an occasion. [Middle English via obsolete hanaper from Anglo-French, from Old French hanapier case for a goblet from hanap goblet]

Packed by John Roch

Christmas Hamper 2011

Ten minutes after six on the afternoon of Christmas Eve. So theres nothing particularly unusual in the preparation of this years Hamper. Take all the usual comments about an early start and lack of follow-through as written and read: you know me well enough, and could probably write them for me. You also know that I firmly believe that Christmas starts tonight and lasts until Twelfth Night, if not Candlemas, so the contents of the Hamper are intended to be savoured through the Season, and not amid the gorging of Christmas Day. Its the usual eclectic mix of items, many taken from the internet. Two days ago I was certain I had not collected enough; after some frantic reading and searching (of books and internet) I now have a good start for next years collection. As usual, theres a Saki story: this year The Occasional Garden which was brought to mind early in the year when the garden of a local church started being used as a place of retreat and contemplation. New this year is the inclusion of one of Mrs Caudles Curtain Lectures. I first came across these as daily readings on Radio 4 (which could well still have been the Home Service), and was delighted to find a remaindered copy of the collection for about a shilling. When I acquired a Kindle, Mrs Caudle was soon on it. I hope you have (have had) a good Christmas; Have a good 2012 39 Pine Croft Chapeltown Sheffield S35 1EB 0114 2 464 369 0790 369 464 0 Its wonderful how many digital books are available for download free of charge, and its a pleasure to read, for instance, what was Lorenz was saying about The Einstein Theory of Relativity when it was new. And to have Shakespeare, Dickens, Austen and Hardy (to name a few) so easily carried and available to read on the tram, or while waiting for an appointment. We have two or three pictures giving optical illusions the horizontal and vertical lines really ARE horizontal and vertical. A few bits on nonsense, and were just about there: the 2011 Christmas Hamper is ready for printing and despatch. The next mail collection is on Wednesday. Have I any stamps? A final bit of comment: some of you (no names, no pack-drill, not looking in any particular direction) are still using the old post code for Pine Croft (it changed about ten years ago). But as I get more and more electronically integrated, with Skype and Twitter on top of landline and cellphone, and watching the world on the computer for most of the day, perhaps a post code is not really significant. At ten minutes to seven, here it is the Winter 2011 / 2012 Hamper. Enjoy it.

Ecclesfield Carol
A song for the time when sweet bells chime Calling rich and poor to pray On that joyful morn, when Christ was born On that holy Christmas Day The Squire came forth from his rich old hall And the peasants by two and by three The woodman let his hatchet fall And the shepherd left his sheep. Through the churchyard snow in a goodly row There came forth old and young And with one consent in prayer they bent And with one consent they sang Well cherish it now at the time of strife As a holy and peaceful thing For it tells of His love coming down from above And the peace He deigns to bring In those good old days of prayer and praise Twas a season of right goodwill For they kept His birthday holy then And well keep it holy still A song for the time when sweet bells chime Calling rich and poor to pray On that joyful morn, when Christ was born On that holy Christmas Day

Traditional Ecclesfield carol

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Well never get this photo taken if you keep moving around

The Yorkshire Wassail Song

Weve been a-while a wandering amongst the leaves so green. But now we come a wassailing so plainly to be seen,

The old yeare now away is fled

The old yeare now away is fled the new year it is entered: then let us now our sins downe tread, and joyfully all appeare! Let's merry be this holy day, and let us now both sport and play; hang sorrow! Let's cast care away God send you a happy new yeare! For Christ's circumcision this day we keepe, who for our sins did often weepe; his hands and feet were wounded deepe, and his blessed side with a speare; his head they crown ed then with thorne, and at him they did laugh and scorne, who for to save our soules was borne. God send us a merry new yeare! And now, with new-yeare's gifts each friend unto each other they doe send; God grant we may all our lives amend, and that the truth may appeare! Now, like the snake, cast off your skin of evill thoughts, and wicked sin, and to amend this new yeare begin: God send us a merry new yeare! And now let all the company in friendly manner all agree, for we are here welcome, all may see, unto this jolly good cheer; I thanke my master and my dame, the which are founders of the same; to eate and drinke now is no shame: God send us a merry new year! Come, lads and lasses, every one Jack, Tom, Dick, Besse, Mary and Jone let's cut the meate up into the bone, for welcome you need not feare! And here for good liquor we shall not lack: it will whet my braines and strengthen my back; this jolly good cheere it must goe to wrack! God send us a merry new yeare! Come, give's more liquor when I doe call, Ile drink to each one in this hall! I hope that so loud I must not baule, but unto me lend an eare: Good fortune to my master send and to my dame which is our friend; Lord blesse us all! and so I end; and God send us a happy new yeare!

For it's Christmas time, when we travel far and near; may God bless you and send you a happy New Year.
We are not daily beggars that beg from door to door; we are your neighbours children, for we've been here before;

For it's Christmas time, when we travel far and near; may God bless you and send you a happy New Year.
We've got a little purse; made of leathern ratchin skin; we want a little of your money to line it well within;

For it's Christmas time, when we travel far and near; may God bless you and send you a happy New Year.
Call up the butler of this house, likewise the mistress too, and all the little children that round the table go;

For it's Christmas time, when we travel far and near; may God bless you and send you a happy New Year.
Bring us out a table and spread it with a cloth, bring us out a mouldy cheese and some of your Christmas loaf;

English traditional carol

For it's Christmas time, when we travel far and near; may God bless you and send you a happy New Year.
Good master and good mistress, while you're sitting by the fire, pray think of us poor children that's wandered in the mire;

For it's Christmas time, when we travel far and near; may God bless you and send you a happy New Year. English traditional carol

Education department
Physics Particle physicists are not used to the limelight, but the seemingly imminent discovery of the Higgs God particle boson has thrust them, and their very particular sense of humour, centre stage. Here are some of the best quantum physics jokes doing the rounds. If you dont laugh at them, its not because you are too cool. Its because you are too stupid. Or you work at CERN and you heard them all light years ago* A Higgs boson goes into a church on Christmas Eve, but the vicar says: Sorry, we dont allow Higgs bosons into our service. The Higgs boson replies: But how else are you going to have Mass?

[Telephone rings] - Hello, is that Schrdingers Cattery? - Yes, how can we help? - Is my cat ok? - Um... Well, yes and no.

Schrdingers cat is Erwin Schrdingers thought experiment which proposes locking a cat in a steel chamber with a vial of hydrocyanic acid. If even a single atom of the radioactive acid decays, the cat will die. If no atom decays, the cat survives. Since, according to quantum law, we cannot know for sure whether an atom will or will not decay (and since we cannot see inside the box) we must theoretically consider that cat to be simultaneously both dead and alive until we open the box to find out.
A neutron walks into a bar and asks how much a pint of beer costs. The bartender replies: For you; no charge.

This is hilarious on several levels (mainly quantum and electromagnetic). Theorists predict that the Higgs boson is what creates mass in the Universe. Particles are prevented from zipping around the Universe at the speed of light because they interact with a field of Higgs bosons, which effectively crowd around particles and slow them down, like wading through treacle or paparazzi photographers crowding around a celebrity as they try to walk.
- A neutrino - Knock Knock - Whos there?

Within an atom, protons are positively charged, electrons are negatively charged, neutrons are neutral and carry no charge, and physicists have too much time on their hands.
Are you a fan of entropy? Not really. Entropy just isnt what it used to be.

Einsteins Theory of Relativity is founded on the principle that nothing can travel faster than the speed of light. However, a neutrino fired underground from Switzerland to Italy seemed to arrive a few billionths of a second quicker than predicted, suggesting that the neutrino had travelled faster than the speed of light.
Theoretical physicist Werner Heisenberg is out driving his car when he is pulled over by a policeman. Do you know how fast you were going? the policeman asks. To which Heisenberg replies: No, but I know where I am.

Entropy is a measure of disorder in the Universe. The second law of thermodynamics explains the notion of irreversibility in nature the idea that processes in nature driven by convertible energy tend to progress in one direction and cant be returned to their former state, like an ice cube melting in a glass of water as its molecules heat up (and thus become more disordered). Hahaha.
*and yes, we are aware that a light year is a measure of distance, not time! The Times

Heisenbergs uncertainty principle suggests that there are certain pairings of physical properties such as momentum and location which cannot be simultaneously measured with any great degree of accuracy. The experiments needed to measure one would throw off the measurements of the other. Hows that for uncertainty?

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Infinity An infinite number of mathematicians walk into a bar. The first one orders a beer, the second orders half a beer the third asks for a quarter of a beer. Before the next one can speak, the bartender says Youre all idiots, and pours two beers. Numbers Whats unusual about these numbers? 10301 13931 70607 94049 13331 14741 73637 94349 16361 15551 76667 94649 19391 16361 79697 94949 Posted in Science & Math by Greg Ross on 14 February 2010

Optics

Key on Page 24
Polar co-ordinates

English The bandage was wound around the wound. The farm was used to produce produce. The dump was so full that it had to refuse more refuse. We must polish the Polish furniture. He could lead if he would get the lead out. The soldier decided to desert his dessert in the desert. Since there is no time like the present, he thought it was time to present the present. A bass was painted on the head of the bass drum. When shot at, the dove dove into the bushes. I did not object to the object. The insurance was invalid for the invalid. There was a row among the oarsmen about how to row. How can I intimate this to my most intimate friend? I was bared when the bear pawed my rear and could not bear the pain. To help with planting, the farmer taught his sow to sow. The wind was too strong to wind the sail. After a number of injections my jaw got number. Upon seeing the tear in the painting I shed a tear. I had to subject the subject to a series of tests. They were too close to the door to close it. The buck does funny things when the does are present. A seamstress and a sewer fell down into a sewer line.

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Art HOGARTHs Satire on False Perspective Whoever makes a DESIGN without the Knowledge of PERSPECTIVE will be liable to such Absurdities as are shewn in this Frontispiece The most immediately prominent errors are the first three or four The man in the foreground's fishing rod's line passes behind that of the man behind him. The sign is moored to two buildings, one in front of the other, with beams that show no difference in depth The sign is overlapped by two distant trees. The man climbing the hill is lighting his pipe with the candle of the woman leaning out of the upper story window. The crow perched on the tree is massive in comparison to it. The church appears to front onto the river. Both ends of the church are viewable at the same time. The left horizon on the water declines precipitously. The man in the boat under the bridge fires at the swan on the other side, which is impossible as he's aiming straight at the bridge abutments. The right-hand end of the arch above the boat meets the water further from the viewer than does the left-hand end. The two story building, though viewed from below shows the top of the roof. As does the church tower in the distance. The barrel closest to the foreground fisherman reveals both its top and bottom simultaneously. The tiles the foreground fisherman stands on have a vanishing point that converge towards the viewer. A tree is growing out of the top of the bridge. The vanishing point for the near side of the first building transforms midway down the wall. The line of trees obscuring the sign are likely representative of how objects should decrease in scale as they move further away, but in this case reversed. The sheep on the left-hand side increase in scale as they get further away. The swan behind the boat is larger than the men manning the boat. Aside from the impossibilities of scale there are in fact approximately 10 different horizons based on the various vanishing points. Summary taken from Wikipedia

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Lines on hearing the organ

Grinder, who serenely grindest at my door the Hundredth Psalm, till thou ultimately findest pence in thy unwashen palm: Grinder, jocund-hearted Grinder, near whom Barbary's nimble son, poised with skill upon his hinder paws, accepts the proffered bun: dearly do I love thy grinding; joy to meet thee on thy road where thou prowlest through the blinding dust with that stupendous load, 'neath the baleful star of Sirius, when the postmen slowlier jog, and the ox becomes delirious, and the muzzle decks the dog. Tell me by what art thou bindest on thy feet those ancient shoon: tell me, Grinder, if thou grindest always, always out of tune. Tell me if, as thou art buckling on thy straps with eager claws, thou forecastest, inly chuckling, all the rage that thou wilt cause. Tell me if at all thou mindest when folks flee, as if on wings, from thee as at ease thou grindest: tell me fifty thousand things. Grinder, gentle-hearted Grinder! Ruffians who led evil lives, soothed by thy sweet strains, are kinder to their bullocks and their wives: children, when they see thy supple form approach, are out like shots; half-a-bar sets several couple waltzing in convenient spots; not with clumsy Jacks or Georges: unprofaned by grasp of man maidens speed those simple orgies, Betsey Jane with Betsey Ann. As they love thee in St. Giles's thou art loved in Grosvenor Square: none of those engaging smiles is unreciprocated there. Often, ere yet thou hast hammer'd through thy four delicious airs, coins are flung thee by enamour'd housemaids upon area stairs: E'en the ambrosial-whisker'd flunkey eyes thy boots and thine unkempt beard and melancholy monkey more in pity than contempt. Far from England, in the sunny South, where Anio leaps in foam, thou wast rear'd, till lack of money drew thee from thy vineclad home: and thy mate, the sinewy Jocko, from Brazil or Afric came, land of simoom and sirocco and he seems extremely tame. There he quaff'd the undefiled spring, or hung with apelike glee, by his teeth or tail or eyelid, to the slippery mango-tree: there he woo'd and won a dusky bride, of instincts like his own; talk'd of love till he was husky in a tongue to us unknown: side by side 'twas theirs to ravage the potato ground, or cut down the unsuspecting savage With the well-aim'd cocoa-nut: till the miscreant Stranger tore him screaming from his blue-faced fair; and they flung strange raiment o'er him, raiment which he could not bear: sever'd from the pure embraces of his children and his spouse, he must ride fantastic races mounted on reluctant sows: but the heart of wistful Jocko still was with his ancient flame in the nutgroves of Morocco; or if not it's all the same. Grinder, winsome grinsome Grinder! They who see thee and whose soul melts not at thy charms, are blinder than a trebly-bandaged mole: they to whom thy curt (yet clever) talk, thy music and thine ape, seem not to be joys for ever, are but brutes in human shape. 'Tis not that thy mien is stately, 'tis not that thy tones are soft; 'tis not that I care so greatly for the same thing play'd so oft: but I've heard mankind abuse thee; and perhaps it's rather strange, but I thought that I would choose thee for encomium, as a change. C S CALVERLEY 1831 - 1884 From Fly Leaves 1872

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The Occasional Garden

"Don't talk to me about town gardens," said Elinor Rapsley; "which means, of course, that I want you to listen to me for an hour or so while I talk about nothing else. 'What a nice-sized garden you've got,' people said to us when we first moved here. What I suppose they meant to say was what a nice-sized site for a garden we'd got. As a matter of fact, the size is all against it; it's too large to be ignored altogether and treated as a yard, and it's too small to keep giraffes in. You see, if we could keep giraffes or reindeer or some other species of browsing animal there we could explain the general absence of vegetation by a reference to the fauna of the garden: 'You can't have wapiti AND Darwin tulips, you know, so we didn't put down any bulbs last year.' As it is, we haven't got the wapiti, and the Darwin tulips haven't survived the fact that most of the cats of the neighbourhood hold a parliament in the centre of the tulip bed; that rather forlorn looking strip that we intended to be a border of alternating geranium and spiraea has been utilised by the cat-parliament as a division lobby. Snap divisions seem to have been rather frequent of late, far more frequent than the geranium blooms are likely to be. I shouldn't object so much to ordinary cats, but I do complain of having a congress of vegetarian cats in my garden; they must be vegetarians, my dear, because, whatever ravages they may commit among the sweet pea seedlings, they never seem to touch the sparrows; there are always just as many adult sparrows in the garden on Saturday as there were on Monday, not to mention newly-fledged additions. There seems to have been an irreconcilable difference of opinion between sparrows and Providence since the beginning of time as to whether a crocus looks best standing upright with its roots in the earth or in a recumbent posture with its stem neatly severed; the sparrows always have the last word in the matter, at least in our garden they do. I fancy that Providence must have originally intended to bring in an amending Act, or whatever it's called, providing either for a less destructive sparrow or a more indestructible crocus. The one consoling point about our garden is that it's not visible from the drawing-room or the smoking-room, so unless people are dinning or lunching with us they can't spy out the nakedness of the land. That is why I am so furious with Gwenda Pottingdon, who has practically forced herself on me for lunch on Wednesday next; she heard me offer the Paulcote girl lunch if she was up shopping on that day, and, of course, she asked if she might come too. She is only coming to gloat over my bedraggled and flowerless borders and to sing the praises of her own detestably over-cultivated garden. I'm sick of being told that it's the envy of the neighbourhood; it's like everything else that belongs to her--her car, her dinner-parties, even her headaches, they are all superlative; no one else ever had anything like them. When her eldest child was confirmed it was such a sensational event, according to her account of it, that one almost expected questions to be asked about it in the House of Commons, and now she's coming on purpose to stare at my few miserable pansies and the gaps in my sweet-pea border, and to give me a glowing, full- length description of the rare and sumptuous blooms in her rose- garden." "My dear Elinor," said the Baroness, "you would save yourself all this heart-burning and a lot of gardener's bills, not to mention sparrow anxieties, simply by paying an annual subscription to the O.O.S.A." "Never heard of it," said Elinor; "what is it?" "The Occasional-Oasis Supply Association," said the Baroness; "it exists to meet cases exactly like yours, cases of backyards that are of no practical use for gardening purposes, but are required to blossom into decorative scenic backgrounds at stated intervals, when a luncheon or dinner-party is contemplated. Supposing, for instance, you have people coming to lunch at one-thirty; you just ring up the Association at about ten o'clock the same morning, and say 'lunch garden'. That is all the trouble you have to take. By twelve forty-five your yard is carpeted with a strip of velvety turf, with a hedge of lilac or red may, or

whatever happens to be in season, as a background, one or two cherry trees in blossom, and clumps of heavily-flowered rhododendrons filling in the odd corners; in the foreground you have a blaze of carnations or Shirley poppies, or tiger lilies in full bloom. As soon as the lunch is over and your guests have departed the garden departs also, and all the cats in Christendom can sit in council in your yard without causing you a moment's anxiety. If you have a bishop or an antiquary or something of that sort coming to lunch you just mention the fact when you are ordering the garden, and you get an old-world pleasaunce, with clipped yew hedges and a sun-dial and hollyhocks, and perhaps a mulberry tree, and borders of sweet-williams and Canterbury bells, and an old-fashioned beehive or two tucked away in a corner. Those are the ordinary lines of supply that the Oasis Association undertakes, but by paying a few guineas a year extra you are entitled to its emergency E.O.N. service." "What on earth is an E.O.N. service?" "It's just a conventional signal to indicate special cases like the incursion of Gwenda Pottingdon. It means you've got some one coming to lunch or dinner whose garden is alleged to be 'the envy of the neighbourhood.'" "Yes," exclaimed Elinor, with some excitement, "and what happens then?" "Something that sounds like a miracle out of the Arabian Nights. Your backyard becomes voluptuous with pomegranate and almond trees, lemon groves, and hedges of flowering cactus, dazzling banks of azaleas, marble-basined fountains, in which chestnut-and-white pond-herons step daintily amid exotic water-lilies, while golden pheasants strut about on alabaster terraces. The whole effect rather suggests the idea that Providence and Norman Wilkinson have dropped mutual jealousies and collaborated to produce a background for an open-air Russian Ballet; in point of fact, it is merely the background to your luncheon party. If there is any kick left in Gwenda Pottingdon, or whoever your E.O.N. guest of the moment may be, just mention carelessly that your climbing putella is the only one in England, since the one at Chatsworth died last winter. There isn't such a thing as a climbing putella, but Gwenda Pottingdon and her kind don't usually know one flower from another without prompting." "Quick," said Elinor, "the address of the Association." Gwenda Pottingdon did not enjoy her lunch. It was a simple yet elegant meal, excellently cooked and daintily served, but the piquant sauce of her own conversation was notably lacking. She had prepared a long succession of eulogistic comments on the wonders of her town garden, with its unrivalled effects of horticultural magnificence, and, behold, her theme was shut in on every side by the luxuriant hedge of Siberian berberis that formed a glowing background to Elinor's bewildering fragment of fairyland. The pomegranate and lemon trees, the terraced fountain, where golden carp slithered and wriggled amid the roots of gorgeous-hued irises, the banked masses of exotic blooms, the pagoda-like enclosure, where Japanese sand-badgers disported themselves, all these contributed to take away Gwenda's appetite and moderate her desire to talk about gardening matters. "I can't say I admire the climbing putella," she observed shortly, "and anyway it's not the only one of its kind in England; I happen to know of one in Hampshire. How gardening is going out of fashion; I suppose people haven't the time for it nowadays." Altogether it was quite one of Elinor's most successful luncheon parties.

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It was distinctly an unforeseen catastrophe that Gwenda should have burst in on the household four days later at lunch-time and made her way unbidden into the dining-room. "I thought I must tell you that my Elaine has had a water-colour sketch accepted by the Latent Talent Art Guild; it's to be exhibited at their summer exhibition at the Hackney Gallery. It will be the sensation of the moment in the art world Hullo, what on earth has happened to your garden? It's not there!" "Suffragettes," said Elinor promptly; "didn't you hear about it? They broke in and made hay of the whole thing in about ten minutes. I was so heart-broken at the havoc that I had the whole place cleared out; I shall have it laid out again on rather more elaborate lines." "That," she said to the Baroness afterwards "is what I call having an emergency brain." SAKI (H H MUNRO)

Windows Haiku Error Messages

Errors have occurred. We won't tell you where or why. Lazy programmers. A file that big? It might be very useful. But now it is gone. First snow, then silence. This thousand dollar screen dies so beautifully. With searching comes loss and the presence of absence: "My Novel" not found. A crash reduces your expensive computer to a simple stone. There is a chasm of carbon and silicon the software can't bridge Having been erased, The document you're seeking Must now be retyped. Serious error. All shortcuts have disappeared Screen. Mind. Both are blank.

To a Goose
If thou didst feed on western plains of yore; Or waddle wide with flat and flabby feet Over some Cambrian mountain's plashy moor; Or find in farmer's yard a safe retreat From gipsy thieves, and foxes sly and fleet; If thy grey quills, by lawyer guided, trace Deeds big with ruin to some wretched race, Or love-sick poet's sonnet, sad and sweet, Wailing the rigour of his lady fair; Or if, the drudge of housemaid's daily toil, Cobwebs and dust thy pinions white besoil, Departed Goose! I neither know nor care. But this I know, that thou wert very fine, Season'd with sage and onions, and port wine. ROBERT SOUTHEY 1774 - 1843

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A Curtain Lecture
LECTURE XII--MR. CAUDLE HAVING COME HOME A LITTLE LATE, DECLARES THAT HENCEFORTH "HE WILL HAVE A KEY." "'Pon my word, Mr. Caudle, I think it a waste of time to come to bed at all now! The cocks will be crowing in a minute. Keeping people up till past twelve. Oh yes! you're thought a man of very fine feelings out of doors, I dare say! It's a pity you haven't a little feeling for those belonging to you at home. A nice hour to keep people out of their beds! "WHY DID I SIT UP, THEN? "Because I chose to sit up but that's my thanks. No, it's no use your talking, Caudle; I never WILL let the girl sit up for you, and there's an end. What do you say? "WHY DOES SHE SIT UP WITH ME, THEN? "That's quite a different matter: you don't suppose I'm going to sit up alone, do you? What do you say? "WHAT'S THE USE OF TWO SITTING UP? "That's my business. No, Caudle, it's no such thing. I DON'T sit up because I may have the pleasure of talking about it; and you're an ungrateful, unfeeling creature to say so. I sit up because I choose it; and if you don't come home all the night long and 'twill soon come to that, I've no doubt still, I'll never go to bed, so don't think it. "Oh, yes! the time runs away very pleasantly with you men at your clubs selfish creatures! You can laugh and sing, and tell stories, and never think of the clock; never think there's such a person as a wife belonging to you. It's nothing to you that a poor woman's sitting up, and telling the minutes, and seeing all sorts of things in the fire and sometimes thinking something dreadful has happened to you more fool she to care a straw about you! This is all nothing. Oh no; when a woman's once married she's a slave worse than a slave and must bear it all! "And what you men can find to talk about I can't think! Instead of a man sitting every night at home with his wife, and going to bed at a Christian hour, going to a club, to meet a set of people who don't care a button for him it's monstrous! What do you say? "YOU ONLY GO ONCE A WEEK? "That's nothing at all to do with it: you might as well go every night; and I daresay you will soon. But if you do, you may get in as you can: I won't sit up for you, I can tell you. "My health's being destroyed night after night, and oh, don't say it's only once a week; I tell you that's nothing to do with it if you had any eyes, you would see how ill I am; but you've no eyes for anybody belonging to you: oh no! your eyes are for people out of doors. It's very well for you to call me a foolish, aggravating woman! I should like to see the woman who'd sit up for you as I do.

"YOU DIDN'T WANT ME TO SIT UP? "Yes, yes; that's your thanks that's your gratitude: I'm to ruin my health, and to be abused for it. Nice principles you've got at that club, Mr. Caudle! "But there's one comfort one great comfort; it can't last long: I'm sinking I feel it, though I never say anything about it but I know my own feelings, and I say it can't last long. And then I should like to know who will sit up for you! Then I should like to know how your second wife what do you say? "YOU'LL NEVER BE TROUBLED WITH ANOTHER? "Troubled, indeed! I never troubled you, Caudle. No; it's you who've troubled me; and you know it; though like a foolish woman I've borne it all, and never said a word about it. But it CAN'T last that's one blessing! "Oh, if a woman could only know what she'd have to suffer before she was married Don't tell me you want to go to sleep! If you want to go to sleep, you should come home at proper hours! It's time to get up, for what I know, now. Shouldn't wonder if you hear the milk in five minutes there's the sparrows up already; yes, I say the sparrows; and, Caudle, you ought to blush to hear 'em. "YOU DON'T HEAR 'EM? "Ha! you won't hear 'em, you mean: I hear 'em. No, Mr. Caudle; it ISN'T the wind whistling in the keyhole; I'm not quite foolish, though you may think so. I hope I know wind from a sparrow! "Ha! when I think what a man you were before we were married! But you're now another person quite an altered creature. But I suppose you're all alike I dare say, every poor woman's troubled and put upon, though I should hope not so much as I am. Indeed, I should hope not! Going and staying out, and "What! "YOU'LL HAVE A KEY? "Will you? Not while I'm alive, Mr Caudle. I'm not going to bed with the door upon the latch for you or the best man breathing. "YOU WON'T HAVE A LATCH YOU'LL HAVE A CHUBB'S LOCK? "Will you? I'll have no Chubb here, I can tell you. What do you say? "YOU'LL HAVE THE LOCK PUT ON TO-MORROW? "Well, try it; that's all I say, Caudle; try it. I won't let you put me in a passion; but all I say is, try it. "A respectable thing, that, for a married man to carry about with him, a street-door key! That tells a tale I think. A nice thing for the father of a family! A key! What, to let yourself in and out when you

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please! To come in, like a thief in the middle of the night, instead of knocking at the door like a decent person! Oh, don't tell me that you only want to prevent me sitting up if I choose to sit up what's that to you? Some wives, indeed, would make a noise about sitting up, but YOU'VE no reason to complain goodness knows! "Well, upon my word, I've lived to hear something. Carry the street- door key about with you! I've heard of such things with young good-for-nothing bachelors, with nobody to care what became of 'em; but for a married man to leave his wife and children in a house with a door upon the latch don't talk to me about Chubb, it's all the same a great deal you must care for us. Yes, it's very well for you to say that you only want the key for peace and quietness what's it to you, if I like to sit up? You've no business to complain; it can't distress you. Now, it's no use your talking; all I say is this, Caudle: if you send a man to put on any lock here, I'll call in a policeman; as I'm your married wife, I will. "No, I think when a man comes to have the street-door key, the sooner he turns bachelor altogether the better. I'm sure, Caudle, I don't want to be any clog upon you. Now, it's no use your telling me to hold my tongue, for I What? "I GIVE YOU THE HEADACHE, DO I? "No, I don't, Caudle; it's your club that gives you the headache; it's your smoke, and your well! if ever I knew such a man in all my life! there's no saying a word to you! You go out, and treat yourself like an emperor and come home at twelve at night, or any hour for what I know, and then you threaten to have a key, and and and " "I did get to sleep at last," says Caudle, "amidst the falling sentences of 'take children into a lodging' 'separate maintenance' 'won't be made a slave of' and so forth." DOUGLAS JERROLD from Punch 1846

The Tale of Lord Lovell he

Lord Lovell he stood at his own front door, seeking the hole for the key; his hat was wrecked, and his trousers bore a rent across either knee. When down came the beauteous Lady Jane in fair white draperie. Oh, where have you been, Lord Lovell? she said, Oh, where have you been? said she; I have not closed an eye in bed, and the clock has just struck three. Who has been standing you on your head in the ash-barrel, pardie? I am not drunk, Lad Shane, he said; and so late it cannot be; the clock struck one as I enterd I heard it two times or three; it must be the salmon on which I fed has been too many for me. Go tell your tale, Lord Lovell, she said, To the maritime cavalree, to your grandmother of the hoary head to any one but me: the door is not used to be opend with a cigarette for a key.

When Adam day by day

When Adam day by day awoke in Paradise, he always used to say "Oh, this is very nice." But Eve from scenes of bliss transported him for life. The more I think of this the more I beat my wife. A E HOUSMAN 18591936

Author Unknown

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Familiar Lines
Arranged so that the little ones can always remember them
The boy stood on the burning deck, his fleece was white as snow; he stuck a feather in his hat, John Anderson, my Jo! "Come back, come back," he cried in grief, from India's coral strands, the frost is on the pumpkin and the village smithy stands. Am I a soldier of the cross from many a boundless plain? Should auld acquaintance be forgot where saints immortal reign? Ye banks and braes o' bonny Doon across the sands o' Dee, can you forget that night in June my country, 'tis of thee! Of all sad words of tongue or pen, we're saddest when we sing, to beard the lion in his den to set before the king. Hark! from the tombs a doleful sound, and phoebus gins arise; all mimsy were the borogoves to mansions in the skies.

Risk assessment
All employees planning to dash through the snow in a one horse open sleigh, going over the fields and laughing all the way are advised that a Risk Assessment will be required addressing the safety of an open sleigh for members of the public. This assessment must also consider whether it is appropriate to use only one horse for such a venture, particularly where there are multiple passengers. Please note that permission must also be obtained in writing from landowners before their fields may be entered. To avoid offending those not participating in celebrations, we would request that laughter is moderate only and not loud enough to be considered a noise nuisance. Benches, stools and orthopaedic chairs are now available for collection by any shepherds planning or required to watch their flocks at night. While provision has also been made for remote monitoring of flocks by CCTV cameras from a centrally heated shepherd observation hut, all users of this facility are reminded that an emergency response plan must be submitted to account for known risks to the flocks. The angel of the lord is additionally reminded that, prior to shining his/her glory all around, s/he must confirm that all shepherds are wearing appropriate Personal Protective Equipment to account for the harmful effects of UVA, UVB and the overwhelming effects of Glory. Following last years well publicised case, everyone is advised that Equal Opportunities legislation prohibits any comment with regard to the redness of any part of Mr. R. Reindeer. Further to this, exclusion of Mr R Reindeer from reindeer games will be considered discriminatory and disciplinary action will be taken against those found guilty of this offence. While it is acknowledged that gift bearing is a common practice in various parts of the world, particularly the Orient, everyone is reminded that the bearing of gifts is subject to Hospitality Guidelines and all gifts must be registered. This applies regardless of the individual, even royal personages. It is particularly noted that direct gifts of currency or gold are specifically precluded, while caution is advised regarding other common gifts such as aromatic resins that may evoke allergic reactions. Finally, in the recent case of the infant found tucked up in a manger without any crib for a bed, Social Services have been advised and will be arriving shortly.

Key on Page 24

Fortunately some enjoyment can still be found in between the cracks in the legislation! I hope you are able to make full use of such opportunities this year!

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Numbers Each series is spaced evenly on the number line: 10301 13931 70607 94049

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+3030 +810 +3030 +300

13331 14741 73637 94349

+3030 +810 +3030 +300

16361 15551 76667 94649

+3030 +810 +3030 +300

19391 16361 79697 94949

Each number is a palindrome. And each is prime. Verses The boy stood on the burning deck, His fleece was white as snow; He stuck a feather in his hat, John Anderson, my Jo! Felicia Hemans, Casabianca Traditional, Mary had a little lamb Traditional, Yankee Doodle Robert Burns, John Anderson My Jo

"Come back, come back," he cried in grief, Thomas Campbell, Lord Ullin's Daughter From India's coral strands, Reginald Heber, From Greenland's Icy Mountains The frost is on the pumpkin and James Whitcomb Riley, When the Frost is on the Pumpkin The village smithy stands. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, The Village Blacksmith Am I a soldier of the cross From many a boundless plain? Should auld acquaintance be forgot Where saints immortal reign? Ye banks and braes o' bonny Doon Across the sands o' Dee, Can you forget that night in June My country, 'tis of thee! Of all sad words of tongue or pen, We're saddest when we sing, To beard the lion in his den To set before the king. Hark! from the tombs a doleful sound, And phoebus gins arise; All mimsy were the borogroves To mansions in the skies. Isaac Watts, Am I a soldier of the cross ??? It may refer to Longfellow's Sand in the Desert of an Hour-Glass, or perhaps Wordsworth's ode on his 63rd Birthday. Robert Burns, Auld Lang Syne Isaac Watts, There is a land of pure delight Robert Burns, one of several versions of Bonnie Doon Charles Kingsley, The Sands of Dee I've drawn a complete blank on this one Samuel F. Smith, My Country, 'Tis of Thee John Greenleaf Whittier, Maud Muller Artemus Ward is credited with saying "I am saddest when I sing", but not in a poem. Sir Walter Scott, Marmion Traditional, Sing a song of sixpence Isaac Watts, Hark! from the tombs a doleful sound! Shakespeare, song from Cymbeline Lewis Carroll, Jabberwocky Isaac Watts, When I can read my title clear

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