SANTA CLAUS BECOMES CORROSION CONSCIOUS: (A Christmas Fantasy)

‘GIT OUT,’ he said, looking at me with an expression of not so much malevolence as positive fear. ‘I beg your pardon, old chap,’ I replied, ‘have I got your glass?’ ‘No, you ain't, but if you're one of them corroders git away from me; fair spoilt my Christmas last year, you lot did.’ ‘A corroder, what exactly do you mean? Look, have one on me and tell me all about it. Bitter, isn't it?’