The tock-tocking of tiny hammers on toys filled the workshop. Santa pulled his big, red coat on more securely and cussed the Heating Company that he`d called two days ago and still hadn`t come, and wiped his big, red nose with a little handkerchief.

"Hey, you, Big Ears," he called to a gnome, who was idling.
"Ain`t ya got nut`in to do?"
"I have fulfilled my quota," said Big Ears.
"Well, I`ll get`ya a new quota," said Santa. "Soon as I can find the work-schedule program on the computer."

It was hard to get good gnomes these days and they were always slacking.

His eyes alighted on a female gnome with four thimbles on her left hand busily sewing shirt buttons with her right.

"How ya doin`, sister?"


A broad white grin flashed in recognition as she replied with a silver Spanish accent, the while her fingers worked swiftly and nimbly as before.

Thank goodness for these foreign gnomes, when you couldn`t get gnomes of your own. They soon learned Gnomish and if you talked slowly and shouted at them, they soon picked up.

The workshop at the North Pole was cold. But eventually, the heating was fixed and Santa set the thermostat with his own blue fingers...not too high, think of the cost...so the gnomes could work harder.

Soon the room was piled with presents. They filled the four corners of the room, they were piled up the four walls, there was a stack of gifts in the middle of the room and assorted piles in other parts of the floor that everybody was always tripping over. The little hammers tock-tocked merrily and Santa beamed.

Three weeks later.

Santa saddled up the Reindeer. Rudolf with his nose so bright up front with Dancer and Daintee directly behind and four newcomers at the back.

Santa went round giving them a sugar lump each. Carrots were hard to come by at that time of year so it was all he had.

He unraveled his magnificent black whip and cracked it in the crisp, frosty air. The beasts twitched and trembled in anticipation of their exertions. Father Xmas growled a throaty, "Ho, ho, ho" to make sure his voice was in fettle.

Bright stars bored the firmament and a sickle moon (for those of you who are Moslem) cast feeble beams that the pale snow cast back. The Northern Lights whirled and shimmered intermittently to light the first part of their journey. Rudolf`s nose radiated a broad arc of light before them and with a prance and a spring, they were airborne

Santa laid the lash on with a will, the great neck muscles of the beasts pulled tirelessly, the great legs of the reindeer found purchase and the white scuts of their tails bobbed up and down like pistons. The toy-laden sleigh soared through the night sky with Santa roaring Ho-ho-ho`s in fine voice, cracking his whip.

And the miles fled between the hoofs. Over the tundra and winter wastes of the Inuit of Canada, to the land of the mighty pine that is the province of Quebec and over the US-Canadian border near Niagara. No one stopped them there at the frontier in night`s stealth – but then other more mundane nightly strollers don`t get stopped there either.

South, south and ever south. Past winter skies of sharp stars to the State of New York, where the clouds roll to. Before him, Father Xmas could see the Brooklyn Suspension Bridge, light-lit with tracery like a spider`s web. And there was the City that never sleeps, roaring and revving with automobiles, clad out in neon every place and full of Xmas Eve revelers. There were LaGuardia and JFK and Father Xmas resolved to avoid them on account of a near miss with an airplane last year.

So, he made a left to Long Island and stopped at a chimney in Rockaway Park (not easy to find). The chimney lay behind him so he made a three-point turn to park alongside it. The chassis of the sleigh bumped a brick but no harm done.

Agilely leaping, Santa assailed the stack and with a quick ‘Ho` abseiled down. Ruefully, he regretted the extra pounds and the ptarmigan pie he was so fond of eating. (He blunderbussed the birds in quantities in summer and froze them in to all year.)

His eyes adjusted to the dark of the room, which was easy because the Xmas tree lights winked and blinked brightly. He tiptoed over softly with his sack of toys.

"Who are you?" a little boy`s voice assailed him.
"I`m...er...Father Xmas," he said.
"Well, what are you dong breaking in?" said a little girl.
"I`ve come to bring you toys," said Father Xmas.
"So, what you got?" said the girl.
"I`ve brought you a doll," said Father Xmas.
"It`s sexist," said the girl. "It oppresses the feminine gender by relegating them to the role of motherhood and opening housebound perspectives."
"Hm," said Father Xmas, "Where do you learn all that?"
"I go with Mom to Women`s Meetings. I`m only seven but I make speeches and everyone agrees I`m pretty smart."
"Oh," said Father Xmas looking severely." You better watch out or otherwise you`ll finish up washing intestines in a slaughterhouse. I knew a little girl just like you and she finished up just like that."
Well, I`m going to be a constitutional lawyer," said the girl.
"So, save your argumentation for the judge," said Father Xmas dryly.

"What have you brought me?" said the little boy. "Mom says I can`t go to the Women`s Meetings because I`m gender defective, and, anyway, I`m only five."
"Well," said Father Xmas, "I...uh...believe in moderation." Continuing to the little boy, "One of these days, you`re going to...uh...live with a little girl."
"Ugh," said the little boy, "I can`t stand little girls."
"Well...uhm...oh...uhm... you know, with a woman."
"Now ya talkin`," said the little boy with a broad grin.
"Anyhow. What you brought me?"
"A cowboy hat," said Father Xmas.
"Is that all?" he said.
"I guess I could run to a cowboy gun. We`re sponsored by the National Rifle Association, you see, so we do a good line in hand guns. I`ve also brought you a train-set."
"I want a car," said the little boy.
"Well," said Father Xmas cajolingly, "We could maybe run to that."
"I want a Ford, like Dad`s," said the boy.
"Well, you`re mighty young," said Father Xmas. "Maybe, when you`re fourteen. If you`re big for your age, that is. You might get driving lessons for Xmas."

"Do you have a good video?" said the girl.
"You can get that from the video shop," said Father Xmas. All our goods are quality, ‘Made by Gnome`. The North Pole is a developing country so by purchasing our products, you are making a donation to the Third World."
"I want a computer game," said the little boy.

And for the life of him, Father Xmas didn`t know how to get out of this mess. Then he said, "I have some star-dust in my pocket and when I sprinkle it upon your eyes, you will fall into a deep sleep."
"Does it have side-effects?" said the little girl. "Only Mom says we should only use homeopathic medicine and we always eat ecological."

In desperation, Santa dug deep in his pocket, took a snift of stardust between thumb and forefinger and sprinkled it upon the children`s eyes. Whew. You could talk too much to children these days. They had too much to say back. The old-fashioned ways were the best. No nonsense. Decision, action. As the two children sleepwalked to bed, Father Xmas approached the fireplace.

Going up was harder than coming down but Father Xmas put on the crampons that were last year`s Xmas gift from Mrs. Xmas and he soon reached the top of the chimneypot.

Oh! How to tell of that eventful Eve! Of all the towns and hamlets, cities and settlements in our Great Land – and of the chimneypots. The great hooves of the reindeer beat the air, presents were unloaded to every child and soon sleigh-borne Santa was underway to the North Pole.

Past the roar of Niagara in the night still, over the pines and the interminable tundra, on over the green of Greenland (where the snows were late this year on account of global warming) and on finally to the North Pole.

The reindeer steamed with the strength of their exertions and Father Xmas wrinkled his nose at the rancidness of their sweat. His arm hung heavy at his side with whipping their flanks. But the igloo with the workshop glistened in the light of the stars before him.

To one side was another igloo with a modest sign saying ‘Welfare`. It was to there that the gnomes would troop on the first Monday after Xmas, their seasonal work being fulfilled. A little beyond was the Wall and Mart.

Santa sighed, his labors done, another Xmas Eve being chalked up and went to bed with Mrs. Xmas, who couldn`t kiss him ‘Goodnight`, however, on account of her curlers.

~ Geoff Jackson

Bien sur c`est possible pour un President francais de former une gouvernement avec le parti parlementaire de l`opposition mais avec les `divisions of power` en Amerique, les resultats donne une `stalemate`.

George W est encore Président avec sa politique Iraquienne et il n`existe pas personne en Congress qui peut donner une alternative. Peut-etre il y a une possibilité pour le Senate Committee for Foreign Affairs mais je le doute.

Probablement le seule resultat de les elections sera les difficultés pour l`Administration de faire accepter ses propres lois, budget etc.

J`espere bien que les nouveaux elections donnera un Président avec des qualités que leader et une Congress de le meme parti. J`espère pour vous qu`il sera un Président Republicaine de la droigt et une majorité Republicaine Congressionale.

And just to end this painful French: I learnt as a schoolboy that a two party system implied that each party would take a turn in office. Now, it seems, your party will have to lick its wounds, repair its britches, in opposition and hopefully come up with new policies to present to the people.

Mais maintenon le système de gouvernement est affaiblé et ce n`est pas bien pour un pays en Guerre.