do al this,
but the master … wel , sometimes the master lacked the necessary mental
equipment to work out what should be true and what shouldn’t …
AND I THINK I’VE GOT THE LAUGH WORKING REALLY WELL NOW. HO. HO.
HO.
‘Yeah, sir, very jol y,’ said Albert. He looked down at the list. ‘Stil , work goes on, eh?
The next one’s pretty dose, master, so I should keep them down low if I was you.’
JOLLY GOOD. HO. HO. HO.
‘Sarah the little match girl, doorway of Thimble’s Pipe and Tobacco Shop, Money
Trap Lane, it says here.’
AND WHAT DOES SHE WANT FOR HOGSWATCH? HO. HO. HO.
‘Dunno. Never sent a letter. By the way, just a tip, you don’t have to say “Ho, ho, ho,
” al the time, master. Let’s see … It says here…’ Albert’s lips moved as he read.
I EXPECT A DOLL IS ALWAYS ACCEPTABLE. OR A SOFT TOY OF SOME
DESCRIPTION. THE SACK SEEMS TO KNOW. WHAT’VE WE GOT FOR HER,
ALBERT? HO. HO. HO.
Something smal was dropped into his hand.
‘This,’ said Albert.
OH.
There was a moment of horrible silence as they both stared at the lifetimer.
‘You’re for life, not just for Hogswatch,’ prompted Albert. ‘Life goes on, master. In a
manner of speaking.’
BUT THIS IS HOGSWATCHNIGHT.
‘Very traditional time for this sort of thing, I understand,’ said Albert.
I THOUGHT IT WAS THE SEASON TO BE JOLLY, said Death.
‘Ah, wel , yes, you see, one of the things that makes folks even more jol y is knowing
there’re people who ain’t,’ said Albert, in a matter-of-fact voice. ‘That’s how it goes,
master. Master?’
No. Death stood Up. THIS IS HOW IT SHOULDN’T GO.
The University’s Great Hal had been set for the Hogswatchnight Feast. The tables
were already groaning under the weight of the cutlery, and it would be hours before
any real food was put on them. It was hard to see where there would be space for any
among the drifts of ornamental fruit bowls and forests of wine glasses.
The oh god picked up a menu and turned to the fourth page.
‘Course four: mol uscs and crustaceans. A medley of lobster, crab, king crab, prawn,
shrimp, oyster, clam, giant mussel, green-lipped mussel, thin-lipped mussel and
Fighting Tiger Limpet. With a herb and butter dipping sauce. Wine: “Three Wizards”
Chardonnay, Year of the Talking Frog. Beer: Winkles’ Old Peculiar.’ He put it down.
‘That’s one course?’ he said.
‘They’re big men in the food department,’ said Susan.
He turned the menu over. On the cover was the University’s coat of arms and, over
it, three large letters in ardent script:
η β π
‘Is this some sort of magic word?’
‘No.’ Susan sighed. ‘They put it on al their menus. You might cal it the unofficial
motto of the University.’
‘What’s it mean?’
‘Eta Beta Pi.’
Bilious gave her an expectant look.
‘Yes . . .?’
‘Er … like, Eat a Better Pie?’ said Susan.
‘That’s what you just said, yes,’ said the oh god.
‘Urn. No. You see, the letters are Ephebian characters which just sound a bit like “eat a better Pie
‘Ah.’ Bilious nodded wisely. ‘I can see that might cause confusion.’
Susan felt a bit helpless in the face of the look of helpful puzzlement. ‘No,’ she said,
‘in fact they are supposed to cause a little bit of confusion, and then you laugh. It’s
cal ed a pune or play on words. Eta Beta Pi.’ She eyed him careful y. ‘You laugh,’ she
said. ‘With your mouth. Only, in fact, you don’t laugh, because you’re not supposed to
laugh at things like this.’
‘Perhaps I could find that glass of milk,’ said the oh god helplessly, peering at the huge array of jugs and bottles. He’d clearly given up on sense of humour
‘I gather the Archchancel or won’t have mil
in the University,’ said Susan. ‘He says he knows where it comes from and it’s
unhygienic. And that’s a man who eats three eggs for breakfast every day, mark you.
How do you know about milk, by the way?
‘I’ve got … memories,’ said the oh god. ‘Not exactly of anything, er, specific. just, you
know, memories. Like, I know trees usual y grow greenend up … that sort of thing. I
suppose gods just know things.
‘Any special god-like powers?
‘I might be able to turn water into an enervescent drink.’ He pinched the bridge of his
nose. ‘Is that any help? And it’s just possible I can give people a blinding headache.
‘I need to find out why my grandfather is … acting strange.
‘Can’t you ask him?
‘He won’t tel me!
‘Does he throw up a lot?
‘I shouldn’t think so. He doesn’t often eat. The occasional curry, once or twice a
month.
‘He must be pretty thin.
‘You’ve no idea.
‘Wel , then … Does he often stare at himself in the mirror and say “Arrgh”? Or stick
out his tongue and wonder why it’s gone yel ow? You see, it’s possible I might have
some measure of influence over people who are hung over. If he’s been drinking a lot,
I might be able to fin
him.
‘I can’t see him doing any of those things.
think I’d better tel you … My grandfather is Death.
‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.
‘I said Death.
‘Sorry?
‘Death. You know … Death?
‘You mean the robes, the—
‘-scythe, white horse, bones . . .. yes. Death.
‘I just want to make sure I’ve got this dear,’ said the oh god in a reasonable tone of
voice. ‘You think your grandfather is Death and you think he’s acting strange?
The Eater of Socks looked up at the wizards, cautiously. Then its jaws started to
work again
… grnf, grnf ..
‘Here, thats one of mine!’ said the Chair of Indefinite Studies, making a grab. The
Eater of Socks backed away hurriedly
It looked like a very smal elephant with a very wide, flared trunk, up which one of the
Chair’s socks was disappearing
‘Funny lookin’ little thing, ain’t it?’ said Ridcul y, leaning his staff against the wal
‘Let go, you wretched creature!’ said the Chair, making a grab for the sock. ‘Shoo!
The sock eater tried to get away while remaining where it was. This should be
impossible, but it is in fact a move attempted by many smal animals when they are
caught eating something forbidden. The legs scrabble hurriedly but th
neck and feverishly working jaws merely stretch and pivot around the food. Final y
the last of the sock disappeared up the snout with a faint sucking noise and the
creature lumbered off behind one of the boilers. After a while it poked one suspicious
eye around the corner to watch them
‘They’re expensive, you know, with the flaxreinforced heel,’ muttered the Chair of
Indefinite Studies
Ridcul y pul ed open a drawer in his hat and extracted his pipe and a pouch of herbal
tobacco. He struck a match on the side of the washing engine. This was turning out to
be a far more interesting evening than he had anticipated
‘We’ve got to get this sorted out,’ he said, as the first few puffs fil ed the washing hal
with the scent of autumn bonfires. ‘Can’t have creatures just popping into existence
because someone’s thought about them. It’s unhygienic.
The sleigh slewed around at the end of Money Trap Lane
COME ON, ALBERT
‘You know you’re not supposed to do this sort of thing, master. You know what
happened last time.
THE HOGFATHER CAN DO IT, THOUGH
‘But … little match girls dying in the snow is part of what the Hogswatch spirit is al
about
master,’ said Albert desperately. ‘I mean, people hear about it and say, “We may be
poorer than a disabled banana and only have mud and old boots to eat, but at least
we’re better off than the poor little match girl,” master. It makes them feel happy and
grateful for what they’ve got, see.
I KNOW WHAT THE SPIRIT OF HOGSWATCH IS, ALBERT
‘Sorry, master. But, look, it’s al right, anyway, because she wakes up and it’s al
bright and shining and tinkling music and there’s angels, master.
Death stopped
AH. THEY TURN UP AT THE LAST MINUTE WITH WARM CLOTHES AND A HOT
DRINK
Oh dear, thought Albert. The master’s real y in one of his funny moods now
‘Er. No. Not exactly at the last minute, master. Not as such.
WELL
‘More sort of just after the last minute.’ Albert coughed nervously
YOU MEAN AFTER SHE’S–
‘Yes. That’s how the story goes, master, ‘s not my fault.
WHY NOT TURN UP BEFORE? AN ANGEL HAS QUITE A LARGE CARRYING
CAPACITY
‘Couldn’t say, master. I suppose people think it’s more … satisfying the other way . . .’
Albert hesitated, and then frowned. ‘You know, now that I come to tel someone .