"Tell me all about it. To begin with, why didn't you come down the chimney?"
"The reindeer." He threw up his hands in despair. "Gone!"
"How?"
"Filleted."
I looked at him in surprise.
"Or do I mean 'billeted'?" he said. "Anyway, the War Office did it."
"Requisitioned, perhaps."
"That's it. They requisitioned 'em. What you and I would call taking 'em."
"I see. So you have to walk. But you could still come down the chimney."
"Well, I could; but it would mean climbing up there first. And that wouldn't seem so natural. It would make it more like a practical joke, and I haven't the heart for practical jokes this year, when nobody really wants me at all."