All along the way they sing the old songs. In this area where there are no streetlights and sometimes miles between inhabited houses. Up and down the back roads stopping at every farm, and every cottage.

Traversing the darkness in the glow of lanterns which hang from the sides of the sleigh.

We give them cookies. Hot buttered rum. Wassail.

For the poor people in town, we contribute Christmas treats which we place in a basket at the back of the sleigh.

I imagine that the Christmas Ale which I contributed will be appreciated.

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