cation, 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.