Found in an old hymn book
From 'Tweets of a Bonny Brid' Clock Almanack 1897
An army doctor visiting his former home in Halifax on convalescent leave, being the sole survivor the desperate retreat from Kandahar in the Afghan War, and having little else to do, decided to take advantage of a brief respite from the inclement weather and avail himself of a potentially invigorating perambulation of the local park.
He was part way through this adventure when he happened upon a solitary and sad looking corporation groundsman dejectedly sweeping up the last vestiges of autumn. As he shivered in the bleak midwinter wind he engaged the fellow in conversation.
'A Merry Christmas to you my good man! Why do you look so gloomy?'
The poor soul removed his cap and deferentially touched his forelock.
'God save you sir! I am sad because I live in some kind of disgrace sir. We have new Maisters at t'Corporation now who have cut our wages by a whole six shillings and are soon going to make us sweep the streets and work with the lowliest of muck men. When we asked 'em why sir, they said it was because everyone is different and everyone matters, including child mill workers, so our wages sir must be lowered so they may be our equals. They say its really quite simple sir, but I'll be hanged it I can understand it!'
'I am surprised my man. I always thought town corporations were charitable to their workers!'
'This last year, its been one of those Anus 'Orribilitis's sir. But you don't know the half of it sir, tellin' us ow they're goin' to do this and do that, and warnin' us what they'll do if we don't accept that 'cos some people are more different than others, none of us really matters! But Christmastime is the worst of it Sir!'
'How so?'
'Since good Queen Bess's day sir, it has been our custom on Xmas Eve, to finish early of our labours and repair to the alehouse to partake of our wassail. But now t'new maister says we must work to full time as we are told it is not seemly for corporation men to be seen at their cups at a time of festive cheer. We have however, (in our own time of course) all been invited to an evening of festive fun at the Blackshaw Head Ladies Temperance Guild .' 'So all is not lost eh?'
'Sudoku beetle drive with tea and buns??'
'Hmm. I feel I might be able to help you my poor man!'
'Indeed?'
'I know of a league of gentlemen of a scientific persuasion who study the stars, Seekers of Extra Terrestrial Intelligence (SETI) they call themselves. They do this because they have a mission to seek out new life, new civilizations, to boldly go where no one has quite been before. I feel they might be of some assistance to you.'
'Why sir?'
'Because it seems to me sir, that your bosses at the corporation don't live on this planet! A merry Xmas to you Sirrah!'
And so, every Christmas when I sit about my fire, I remember the poor groundsman. And friends, this story is true. I know... I was that soldier!
Jim Jarratt
