'We thought you  might like us to  come round at lunchtime and  sing  a merry Hogswatch  glee for your customers,' said the  Duck  Man. Beside  him, Coffin Henry began one of his volcanic bouts of coughing, which even sounded green. ' No charge, of course.'

     'It being Hogswatch,' said Arnold.

     The beggars,  despite  being too disreputable even  to  belong  to  the Beggars'  Guild, lived quite  well  by  their  own low  standards.  This was generally by  careful application of  the  Certainty Principle. People would give them all sorts of things if they were certain to go away.

     A few minutes later they wandered off again, pushing a happy Arnold who was surrounded by hastily wrapped packages.

     'People can be so kind,' said the Duck Man.

     'Millennium hand and shrimp.'

     Arnold   started  to  investigate  the  charitable  donations  as  they manoeuvred his trolley through the slush and drifts.

     'Tastes... sort of familiar,' he said.

     'Familiar like what?'

     'Like mud and old boots.'

     'Cam! That's posh grub, that is.'

     'Yeah, yeah... '  Arnold chewed for  a while.  'You  don't think  we've become posh all of a sudden?'

     'Dunno. You posh, Ron?'

     'Buggrit.'

     'Yep. Sounds posh to me.'

     The snow began to settle gently on the River Ankh.

     'Still... Happy New Year, Arnold.'

     'Happy New Year, Duck Man. And your duck.'

     'What duck?'

     'Happy New Year, Henry.'

     'Happy New Year, Ron.'

     'Buggrem!'

     'And god bless us, every one,' said Arnold Sideways.

     The curtain of snow hid them from view.

     'Which god?'

     'Dunno. What've you got?'

     'Duck Man?'

     'Yes, Henry?'

     'You know that stalled ox you mentioned?'

     'Yes, Henry?'

     'How come it'd stalled? Run out of grass, or something?'

     'Ah... it was more a figure of speech, Henry.'

     'Not an ox?'

     'Not exactly. What I meant was-'

     And then there was only the snow.

     After a while, it began to melt in the sun.

THE END