A stamping of feet comes from behind the door marked "Do not open in the presence of 'possums" - then it opens, admitting a blast of wintry air and the snow covered figure of a man in caped greatcoat with a strange woolen tophat. clutched in one hand is a large bell.

Happy Christmas He croaks hoarsly. Wind's bitter off the lake - so I thought I'd drop in for a pint to sooth the throat. He helps himself at the bar, humming the 'Huron Carol' as he mans the taps.

better figure out a menu soon he thought to himself - only 15 days or so to prepare.