A Child's Christmas in Wales

Summary

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Podcast Summary: "A Child's Christmas in Wales"

Podcast: Harold's Old Time Radio
Host: Harolds Old Time Radio
Episode Airdate: November 29, 2025

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Episode Overview

This episode features a rich, evocative radio dramatization of Dylan Thomas’s classic nostalgic memoir, “A Child’s Christmas in Wales,” adapted by Herbert Williams. The story sweeps listeners into the magical, snowy world of a Welsh childhood Christmas, focusing on warm family gatherings, mischievous adventures, eccentric relatives, and the bittersweet nature of memory and growing up. The adaptation is delivered with humor, lyricism, and affection, capturing the essence of Thomas’s prose and the spirit of old-time radio storytelling.

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Main Themes and Purpose

• Nostalgia and the Power of Memory: The episode alternates between older and younger versions of the characters, reflecting on the haziness and subjective nature of childhood memories.
• Childhood Adventures: Snowball fights, the excitement of gifts, and the thrill of holiday antics animate the narrative with laughter and chaos.
• Family & Community: Eccentric relatives, neighbors, and Christmas rituals showcase the warmth, humor, and occasional tension of multi-generational gatherings.
• The Passage of Time: The final segments contemplate the inevitable change that comes with growing up and the poignant longing for lost innocence.

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Key Discussion Points & Insights

1. The Blurred Borders of Memory (01:05)

• Old Will reflects on how Christmases blend together with age, unable to recall if “it snowed for six days and six nights when I was twelve, or whether it snowed for twelve days and twelve nights when I was six.”

  • [01:05]

• His conversation with Old Jim pokes gentle fun at selective memory:

  Old Jim: “You can never remember nothing.”
  Old Will: “Oh, no, I haven’t.”
  Old Jim: “Oh yes you are.”

  • [01:40]

2. Mischief and Mayhem: Snowball Fights and a Christmas 'Fire' (02:27–06:08)

• The boys plot to ambush neighborhood cats with snowballs, but childhood rivalry soon gives way to chaos when a fire is (falsely) suspected at the Protheroes:

  • “We threw all our snowballs into the smoke. I think we missed Mr. Brothero.”
  • [04:32]

• Mrs. Protheroe’s polite response to the fire brigade is a comedic highlight:

  “She looked at the firemen in their shining helmets, standing among the smoke and cinders... She said, ‘Would you like anything to read?’”

  • [06:08]

3. The Winter World and Deliveries (08:01–09:30)

• Old Will and Old Jim recall the “wolves in Wales,” the birds with “red flannel petticoats,” and the anticipation as the postman approaches, evoking the enchanted atmosphere of the season.
• The boys pester the postman for gifts and treats:

  Young Will: “Got anything for us, Mr. Postman? Got any of them cough stoppers? ...Boxing gloves? Marbles? Train sets?”

  • [08:42]

4. Presents, Both “Useful” and “Useless” (09:52–12:55)

• The family exchanges both practical winter gear and delightfully silly or disappointing toys.

• Humorous take on “useless presents” for cousins:

  Mother: "What kind of presents, ma'? Am? Why, useless presents, of course. Cousins are always useless, aren’t they?"

  • [10:30]

• Discussion of ill-chosen gifts follows:

  Old Jim: “Remember that celluloid duck someone gave me?"
  Uncle Ben: “Will?"
  Old Jim: “That was useless, all right? ...It made a terrible noise.”

  • [11:33]

5. The Festive Home and Christmas Morning (12:01–14:13)

• The wonder of unwrapping presents, the playful rivalry amongst cousins, and the smell of holiday foods are lovingly described:

  Old Will: “And there I’d go, slap dashing home with the smell of gravy and birds and brandy and mints and pudding all coiling up to my nostrils...”

  • [14:03]

6. Eccentric Relatives and Holiday Banter (15:35–18:02)

• Colorful characters like Auntie Hannah and Uncle Ben contribute to the episode’s humor and warmth.
• Classic bickering and affectionate mockery among adults reflect the familial chaos of a big holiday gathering:

  Uncle Ben: "Your Auntie Anna would make love to anything, boy. Especially if you would drink it."

  • [16:34]

  Old Jim: “Your Auntie Bess is on the elderberry. She’ll be sick as a d. Dog.”

  • [17:51]

7. The Magic of the Outdoors, Snow, and Childhood Imagination (19:31–20:27)

• The boys march out into the snowy town, joking about hippos in the street and sending snowballs through letterboxes:

  Young Will: “I bet people think there’s been hippos. What would you do if you saw a hippo coming down our street?”

  • [19:39]

8. Carols, Ghosts and Eerie Moments (21:03–23:46)

• The children go caroling at a dark, foreboding house and are startled by a mysterious “small, dry eggshell voice” joining their song through the keyhole:

  Old Jim: “The wind through the trees made noises like old and unpleasant and maybe web footed men wheezing in caves. We reached the black bulk of the house...”

  • [21:15]

  Old Jim: “A small, dry eggshell voice from the other side of the door...”

  • [22:25]

• The children, spooked, run home, wondering if they’ve encountered ghosts or trolls.

9. Returning Home: The Comforts of the Hearth (23:59–24:50)

• The story circles back to the recurring motif of “music on Christmas night” and the familial warmth inside, despite Auntie Hannah’s tipsy singing.

  Old Will: “Always on Christmas night there was music. An uncle played the piano, a cousin sung Cherry Ripe. And an auntie sung Drake’s Drum.”

  • [24:11]

10. Confronting Time, Change, and Letting Go (24:43–26:21)

• Philosophical, poignant dialogue between Old Jim and Old Will as they realize the world of their memories must fade:

  Old Will: “We grew up and I hardly saw anything of you. Until now.”

  • [24:50]

  Old Will: "You have to let go."

  • [26:00]

• Old Jim expresses not wanting to let go of childhood, to which Old Will gently, kindly insists:

  Old Will: "You are home, Jim. This is home."

  • [26:10]

11. One Last Look and Closing Lyrical Moment (26:22–27:19)

• In a final act of grace, Old Will allows one last vision of childhood—Young Will gazing out his bedroom window into “the moonlight and the unending smoke colored snow”.

  Old Will: “You see? You’re a poet, too.”

  • [26:52]

• The story closes with a prayer to the “close and holy darkness,” and sleep.

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Notable Quotes and Memorable Moments

| Timestamp | Quote | Speaker | |-----------|-------|---------| | 01:05 | “Always on Christmas night there was music. An uncle played the piano. A cousin sang Cherry Ripe and an auntie sang Drake's Drum. And it was very warm in the little house.” | Old Will | | 04:32 | “We threw all our snowballs into the smoke. I think we missed Mr. Brothero.” | Old Will | | 06:08 | “She looked at the firemen in their shining helmets, standing among the smoke and cinders and dissolving no walls and she said, ‘Would you like anything to read?’” | Old Jim, quoting Mrs. Protheroe | | 09:38 | “You forget the bells were ringing inside us.” | Old Will | | 10:30 | “What kind of presents, ma’? Am? Why, useless presents, of course. Cousins are always useless, aren’t they?” | Mother / Young Will | | 14:03 | “And there I’d go, slap dashing home with the smell of gravy and birds and brandy and mints and pudding all coiling up to my nostrils...” | Old Will | | 16:34 | “Your Auntie Anna would make love to anything, boy. Especially if you would drink it.” | Uncle Ben | | 22:25 | “A small, dry eggshell voice from the other side of the door. A small, dry voice through the keyhole.” | Old Jim | | 24:11 | “Always on Christmas night there was music. An uncle played the piano, a cousin sung Cherry Ripe. And an auntie sung Drake’s drum. It was very warm in the little house.” | Old Will | | 26:00 | “Oh, you have to, boy. You have to let go.” | Old Will | | 26:52 | “Oh, look, there you are. Looking through your bedroom window out into the moonlight and the unending smoke colored snow.” | Old Jim | | 27:19 | “And then I slept.” | Old Will |

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Timestamps for Key Segments

• Opening Memory & Holiday Atmosphere: 01:05–02:13
• Snowball Fights and the Fire Incident: 02:27–06:14
• The Postman & Winter World: 08:01–09:30
• Christmas Presents & Sweets: 09:52–12:55
• Christmas Morning & Festive Table: 12:55–14:13
• Eccentric Relatives: 15:35–18:14
• Wintry Adventures Outdoors: 19:31–20:27
• Caroling & Ghostly Encounter: 21:03–23:46
• Final Reflections on Memory: 24:43–26:21
• The Last Vision of Childhood: 26:22–27:19

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Tone and Language

The adaptation stays true to Dylan Thomas’s lyrical, humorous, and nostalgic prose. The dialogue brims with warmth, wit, and the affectionate teasing of close-knit families.

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Closing Thought

This episode of “Harold’s Old Time Radio” beautifully revives a timeless classic in a lush, auditory tapestry—reminding listeners of the enduring magic of childhood, the strength of memory, and the poignant necessity of letting go as we grow older. If you yearn for the cozy, chaotic joy of a family Christmas past, this dramatization is a gift worth revisiting.

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Transcript

[Young Will]

What do you think makes the perfect snack?

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[Young Will]

Could you be more specific?

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[Young Will]

Okay.

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Like a freshly baked cookie made with real butter, available right down the street at a.m. p.m. Or a savory breakfast sandwich I can grab in just a second at a.m. p.m.

[Young Will]

I'm seeing a pattern here.

[AM PM Advertiser]

Well, yeah, we're talking about what I.

[Young Will]

Crave, which is anything from AM pm.

[AM PM Advertiser]

What more could you want? Stop by AM PM where the snacks and drinks are perfectly craveable and convenient. That's cravenience. AM PM Too much. Good stuff.

[Narrator]

A Child's Christmas in Wales by Dylan Thomas. Dramatized for the radio by Herbert Williams. Philip Maddock plays the character of old Will and Freddie Jones the character of old.

[Old Will]

Always on Christmas night there was music. An uncle played the piano. A cousin sang Cherry Ripe and an auntie sang Drake's Drum. And it was very warm in the little house. One Christmas was so much like another in those years. Round the seatown corner now and out of all sound except the distant speaking or the voices I sometimes hear a moment before sleeping that I can never remember whether it snowed for six days and six nights when I was 12. Or whether it snowed for 12 days and 12 nights when I was six.

[Old Jim]

You can never remember nothing.

[Old Will]

Will. Jim.

[Old Jim]

So it's you talking to yourself again, is it?

[Old Will]

That's about it.

[Old Jim]

Don't change, do you? Always were a bit funny.

[Old Will]

I was talking about Christmas like it was in the old days. Oh, I.

[Old Jim]

Plenty of snow about then, all right.

[Old Will]

Oh, I should say.

[Old Jim]

Damn. But we had some fun, you and me. Jack and Dan. Remember?

[Old Will]

And how could I forget?

[Old Jim]

Oh, that's a good one. You got a memory like a sieve.

[Old Will]

Oh, no, I haven't.

[Old Jim]

Oh yes you are.

[Old Will]

I remember a lot of things. Like what cuts? What cuts? The Christmas Eve cuts in your garden. Oh, good heavens. Sleek and long as jaguars and horrible whiskers.

[Young Will]

Well, look.

[Old Will]

Spitting at, snarling.

[Old Jim]

Do you see what I see?

[Old Will]

Slinking and sidling over the white.

[Uncle Ben]

Both of us.

[Old Jim]

Just as we used to be.

[Young Will]

Jim.

[Old Will]

Shh.

[Young Will]

Scare them away. What if they don't come? Of course they'll come.

[Old Will]

Patient, cold and callous. Our hands wrapped in socks. We waited to snowball the cats.

[Young Will]

They always come.

[Old Will]

The lynx side hunters, Jim and I. Fur capped and moccasin trappers from Hudson Bay off Mumbles Road.

[Young Will]

You ready for him? Will I? But it's freezing, man. My fingers are dropping off. They'd be Here. Any second there'll be a sis hour. I'll shove this snowball. Don't you go a minute, you twat.

[Old Jim]

I did too, remember?

[Old Will]

I was coughing up winter in the middle of June.

[Young Will]

See what you've done now? You scared him away. Shh. His son.

[Old Will]

It was like the far off challenge of our enemy and prey. The neighbour's polar cat.

[Young Will]

Yes, ma'. Am. There's some fire. Quack.

[Old Will]

And we ran down the garden with the snowballs in our arms towards the house. And smoke indeed was pouring out of the dining room. And the gong was bombolating and Mrs. Protheroe was announcing ruin like a town crier in Pompeii. This was better than all the catching whales standing on the wall in a row. We bounded into the house laden with snowballs.

[Young Will]

Fire. Fire. Where's the fire, ma'? Am? Use your eyes, boy.

[Old Will]

There was no fire to be seen, only clouds of smoke and Mr. Protheroe standing in the middle of them, smacking at the smoke with a slipper.

[Old Jim]

A fine Christmas, I must say. A fine Christmas.

[Young Will]

Dad, you alright? Hiya. Please help. That's on fire. No, he's not. There's only smoke.

[Old Will]

And Mr. Prothero waving his slipper as though he were conducting.

[Young Will]

Call the fire brigade.

[Uncle Ben]

Well, it won't be there, girl.

[Young Will]

It's Christmas. Do something, boys. Do something.

[Old Will]

So we threw all our snowballs into the smoke. I think we missed Mr. Brother.

[Uncle Ben]

Oh, you're blithering.

[Old Will]

No, we didn't.

[Young Will]

The phone box on the corner. Let's call the police as well. And the ambulance. And Ernie Jenkins. He likes fires.

[Old Will]

But we only called the fire brigade. We thought there'd be dozens of them trampling the snow to death in their huge shiny boots and drowning the wisteria. We stood agog and a magog as the fire engine jutted to a stop and the crew tumbled out, all three of them.

[Young Will]

Where's the fire, boys? Dead in use. Run the o in.

[Uncle Ben]

Keep clear you boys. This is perilous work.

[Old Will]

The neighbor's polar cat appeared, crouching in the snow, ready to pounce on Mr. Brothero.

[Young Will]

Fire. Fire.

[Old Jim]

Come on out, you stupid woman.

[Young Will]

Come on. Ouch.

[Old Will]

They got out just in time before the firemen turned the water on.

[Young Will]

Little Bobby Tosca. There you find them out this monster killer.

[Old Will]

Nobody could have had a noisier Christmas Eve. And when the fireman turned off the hose and was standing in the wet, smoky room, Jim's aunt, Ms. Protheroe, came downstairs and peered in at them. Jim and I waited very quietly to hear what she would say to them.

[Old Jim]

She looked at the firemen in their shining helmets, standing among the smoke and cinders and dissolving no walls and she.

[Young Will]

Said, would you like anything to read?

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[Old Will]

There were wolves in Wales then and birds the color of red flannel petticoats would whisk past the harp shaped hills and we used to chase with the jawbones of deacons, the English and the bears.

[Old Jim]

Gloomy Dachman. We never did any of that.

[Old Will]

Oh yes we did. You forgot.

[Old Jim]

You're the one who forgets.

[Old Will]

No, I remember how the snow was shaken from the whitewash buckets down the sky and came shawling out of the ground and swam and drifted out of the arms and hands and bodies of the trees and how it grew overnight on the roofs of the houses like.

[Old Jim]

A pure and grandfather moss.

[Old Will]

You see, you remember too.

[Old Jim]

And then there were the postmen. Just ordinary postmen, fond of walking and.

[Old Will]

Dogs and Christmas and snow.

[Young Will]

Got anything for us, Mr. Postman? Got any of them cough stoppers? You know, the ones that change colour when you Suck. Got any boxing gloves? Marbles? Train sets? We'll give you some freedom. What's that then? Black eye?

[Old Will]

If you clear off with sprinkling eyes and wind, cherried noses on spread frozen feet. They crunched up to the doors and mitten on them manfully. And in the little drifted porches the postman huffed and puffed, making ghosts with their breath. Jogging from foot to foot like small boys wanting to go out.

[Uncle Ben]

Good morning, postman.

[Old Jim]

Compliments of the season to you.

[Young Will]

What? Same to you, sir. Thank you, Losie Tanner. Can you spare it?

[Old Will]

But all we could hear was the ringing of bells.

[Old Jim]

Those aren't doorbells, you idiot.

[Old Will]

You forget the bells were ringing inside us.

[Old Jim]

Speak for yourself.

[Old Will]

And it seemed that all the churches boomed for joy under my window. And the weathercock's crew for Christmas on our fence.

[Old Jim]

And then there were the presents.

[Narrator]

Useful presents.

[Young Will]

Engulfing mufflers of the old coach days. And mittens made for giant sloths. Zebra scarves of a substance like silky gum that could be tug of war.

[Old Will]

Down to the galoshes blinding tamush hunters like patchwork tea. Cosies and bunny suited busbys and balaclavas for victims of head shrinking tribes. And from aunts who always wore wool next to the skin. There were moustached and rasping vests that made you wonder how the aunts had any skin left at all.

[Old Jim]

And books that told me everything about the wasp. Except why.

[Young Will]

Come along now, you two. Make yourself useful. How, ma'? Am? Run along to the shop to get me some presents for your cousins. What kind of presents, ma'? Am? Why, useless presents, of course. Cousins are always useless, aren't they? What do you want, Mrs. Thomas? Well, bags of jelly babies for a start.

[Old Will]

Moist and many coloured jelly babies.

[Young Will]

And a flag, a folded flag and let me see now. Oh yes, a false nose. I'll wear that. You need to. Your snout's horrible. And a tram conductor's cap. And a machine that punches tickets. Catapult, ma'? Am? No, never a catapult. Oh, come on, ma'. Am. A hatchet, Mrs. Thomas. Just a little one. Never in this world. Sweets then. Any amount. Hard boils, toffee, fudge and all sorts. Crunchies, cracklers, humbugs, glaciers, marzipan.

[Narrator]

One butter.

[Young Will]

Welsh for the Welsh. Now run along now. Don't waste any more time.

[Old Jim]

Remember that celluloid duck someone gave me?

[Uncle Ben]

Will?

[Old Jim]

That was useless, all right?

[Old Will]

Can't say I do.

[Old Jim]

Oh, you must do one. It made a terrible noise.

[Old Will]

Oh, man alive. Sounds like a cat wanting to be A cow.

[Young Will]

That's it. That's just it.

[Old Will]

Hey, Jim. What's happening now? Can you see?

[Old Jim]

Yes. You're opening your presence.

[Old Will]

Look, it's Christmas morning.

[Old Jim]

There's a painting book and tin foliars.

[Old Will]

Snakes and families. Happy ladders. Easy. Hobby games for little engineers compete with instructions. Easy, Leonardo.

[Old Jim]

And what's this hiding in the corner like a sneak? You are putting something in your mouth. What is it?

[Young Will]

Open voice. You hear me? Open at once. Look out. The picture is coming off. Oh, grab it, Will. Oh, no. My favorite picture. I'm sorry, mum. Never mind, son. It's Christmas.

[Old Will]

Sorry, ma'. Am.

[Old Jim]

Get back to the presents. Packets of sweet cigarettes, remember?

[Old Will]

You put one in your mouth and stood at the corner for hours waiting for some old lady to scold you.

[Old Jim]

When she didn't come, you ate it with a smirk and watched the old man with yellow gloves taken his constitutional to the white bowling green and back.

[Old Will]

With spots of snow.

[Old Jim]

The chapel goers came out from the Christmas morning service full of righteousness and huge appetites.

[Old Will]

They had taproom noses and huddled their stiff black feathers against the irreligious snow.

[Old Jim]

Then there were the two hearty young men with big pipes blazing.

[Young Will]

Here they come. Let's build them with snowballs, grease balls, cannonballs, mothballs. They look like stewed onions to me. Bet they be teaching us soon.

[Old Will]

They trudged and speaking down to the.

[Old Jim]

Forlorn sea to work up an appetite, to blow away the fumes.

[Old Will]

Uno. They walked into the waves until nothing was left but the two curling smoke clouds of their inextinguishable briars.

[Young Will]

Wonder if they'll teach us that. Will? Where are you? Will? Come in now, mum.

[Old Will]

And there I'd go, slap dashing home with the smell of gravy and birds and brandy and mints and pudding all coiling up to my nostrils until.

[Old Jim]

You saw the boy.

[Old Will]

What boy?

[Old Jim]

The one who was the dead spit of you.

[Old Will]

That one.

[Old Jim]

He came out of a side lane with a pink tipped cigarette and a black eye, cocky as a bullfinch.

[Young Will]

I hate you. I'm gonna blow you away with my whistle.

[Old Will]

But before I could, he put his whistle to his lips and blew. And gobbling faces, their cheeks bulging with goose, pressed against their tinselled windows the whole length of the white echoing street.

[Young Will]

I told you not to blow that whistle, didn't I? I didn't, ma'.

[Narrator]

Am.

[Young Will]

It was him.

[Narrator]

Who?

[Young Will]

That boy. Where?

[Old Will]

There was no one there. You were the dead.

[Old Jim]

Spit for yourself, Will.

[Young Will]

Ow. Don't lie to me. Even if it Is Christmas. That's not fair.

[Old Will]

Not fair, not fair? Nothing's fair. Tell him, Jim.

[Old Jim]

He's too young to know that. He'll have to find out.

[Old Will]

It's not fair.

[Old Jim]

Who's that, then?

[Old Will]

Oh, just one of my cousins. She always sang Cherry Ripe on Christmas Day.

[Old Jim]

You go and listen to her, then.

[Uncle Ben]

Look who it is. Young Will. Where have you been, boy?

[Narrator]

Out.

[Uncle Ben]

Well, fancy that. Hear that, Dick? It's been out.

[Young Will]

Where have you been, my lovely? To see the deceased in there.

[Uncle Ben]

Don't listen to her, Will. She's mad as actor.

[Young Will]

Oh, you're a fine one to talk. The day you talk sense. Ben, the clouds will bucket your baby.

[Uncle Ben]

Oh, that'll suit you all right then, won't it?

[Old Jim]

She drinks like a whale, boy.

[Uncle Ben]

Don't grow up like her. Whatever.

[Young Will]

I'll try not to, Uncle Ben. What's he saying about me? Will you believe him, whatever it is?

[Uncle Ben]

I was telling him about the time you made love to a snowman.

[Young Will]

Me? I don't know what snowman worth melting for. Oh, yes, you did.

[Uncle Ben]

Your Auntie Anna would make love to anything, boy. Especially if you would drink it.

[Young Will]

Oh, is he all about. George, stop him. Do you hear me? Oh, can I? Well, is you a brother? Isn't he? Oh, I can't stop him doing nothing. What do you call himself? Man or mouse? Oh, put some cheese down and I'll show you.

[Uncle Ben]

What's wrong with her?

[Young Will]

A mouse. Look. It's not a real one, Bessie. Did you do that, Will?

[Old Will]

No.

[Uncle Ben]

He's sitting here good as gold, Florrie.

[Young Will]

That's a change.

[Old Will]

Look.

[Young Will]

Get rid of it, can't you?

[Uncle Ben]

All right. Get down from that chair, girl.

[Young Will]

Not until you get rid of it.

[Uncle Ben]

Well, that's easy. Tell you what we'll do, George. We'll get a mousetrap from the kitchen and put some cheese in it. Nice and tidy.

[Old Jim]

What's it like? Oh, a nice bit of cafilly.

[Young Will]

Stop it, you two, or I'll knock your heads together. Awkward mouse.

[Old Jim]

Bessie, I'd forgotten your uncles. They were real characters.

[Old Will]

Bad ones.

[Old Jim]

And your aunties worse. Look, Auntie Bessie's at the sideboard now.

[Old Will]

What's she doing? I could tell you.

[Old Jim]

She's pouring some wine out.

[Uncle Ben]

Oh, no.

[Young Will]

What's wrong, Uncle Ben?

[Uncle Ben]

Your Auntie Bess is on the elderberry. She'll be sick as a d. Dog.

[Old Will]

The dog was sick too. Was it?

[Old Jim]

What a Christmas.

[Young Will]

Though we may roam Be it ever so humble there's no place like home, is it?

[Old Jim]

Yes, it is. It's your Auntie Hannah, singing like a.

[Old Will]

Big bosomed, inebriated thrush in the snowbound backyard.

[Young Will]

Through the world there is met. Where? Elsewhere.

[Old Will]

The afternoon rumbled away. The uncles breathed like dolphins and the snow descended. And I sat among festoons and Chinese lanterns and nibbled dates trying to make a modern man of war, meticulously following instructions for little engineers and producing what might be mistaken for a seagoing tramcar. Or I'd go out, my bright new boots squeaking into the white world onto the seaward hill.

[Old Jim]

You call on me and Dan and Jack.

[Old Will]

We padded through the still streets, leaving huge deep footprints on the hidden pavements.

[Young Will]

And I said, I bet people think there's been hippos. What would you do if you saw a hippo coming down our street?

[Old Will]

Trust you to ask that.

[Old Jim]

Trust you not to answer tonight. No, Dan did.

[Young Will]

I'd go like this. Bang. I'd throw him over the railings and roll him down the hill. And then I'd tickle him under the ear and he'd wag his tail. What would you do if he saw two hippos?

[Old Jim]

Even Dan couldn't answer that.

[Young Will]

This post Mr. Daniel a snowball through his letterbox. Let's right things in the Snow. That's right. Mr. Daniel looks like a spaniel all over his lawn.

[Old Will]

We walked on the white shore.

[Young Will]

Can the fishes see it snowing?

[Old Jim]

Let's go back and see the uncles and aunties.

[Old Will]

Back through the poor streets where only a few children fumbled with bare red fingers in the wheel Rutted snow they threw snow artists. Uncut calls.

[Young Will]

Yeah, yeah, Snotty snobs. Get back to the October.

[Old Will]

Their voices faded away as we trudged uphill into the cries of the dock birds and the hooting of ships out in the whirling bay. And then at tea the recovered uncles would be jolly and the ice cake loomed in the center of the table like a marble grave. Then it was time for tall tales.

[Old Jim]

How tall, Will?

[Old Will]

Tall as the firemen. Tall as the cliffs at Hosseli.

[Old Jim]

I can think of a tale. The time we went singing carols.

[Old Will]

We were always singing carols.

[Old Jim]

No, no, not like this. It was dark, pitch dark. And we walked along a long road. And at the end of it was a drive that led to a large house. And we stumbled up the darkness of the drive, each one of us afraid, each one holding a stone in his hand in case. And all of us too brave to say a word. The wind through the trees made noises like old and unpleasant and maybe web footed men wheezing in caves we reached the black bulk of the house.

[Young Will]

What should we give them? Hark the herald. No. Good King Wenceslas. Account 3 1, 2, 3.

[Old Jim]

And we began to sing.

[Young Will]

Good King Wenceslas looked out on the feast of Stephen, Our voices high and.

[Old Jim]

Seemingly distant in the snow felted darkness round the house that was occupied by nobody we knew. We stood close together near the dark door. And then a small, dry voice, like the voice of someone who has not spoken for a long time, joined our singing. A small, dry eggshell voice from the other side of the door. A small, dry voice through the keyhole.

[Young Will]

Though the frost was growing when the poor man came inside gathering went to. Good King Wenslash, lass, look down at that peace of steam when the snow.

[Old Jim]

When we stopped running, we were outside our house. The front room was lovely. Balloons floated under the hot water bottle, gulping gas. Everything was good, good again and shone over the town.

[Young Will]

Perhaps it was ghosts. Perhaps it was trolls. Let's go in and see if there's any jelly left.

[Old Jim]

And that's what we did.

[Young Will]

Drake. He's in his hammock and a thousand mile away. Captain.

[Old Will]

Always on Christmas night there was music. An uncle played the piano, a cousin sung Cherry Ripe. And an auntie sung Drake's drum. It was very warm in the little house. Auntie Hannah would got onto the parsnip wine, sang a song about bleeding hearts and death. And then another in which she said her heart was like a bird's nest. And then everybody laughed again.

[Old Jim]

Is that all?

[Old Will]

And what else do you want?

[Old Jim]

I want to know more.

[Old Will]

About what?

[Old Jim]

What happened next.

[Old Will]

You know what happened.

[Old Jim]

We grew up and I hardly saw anything of you. Until now.

[Old Will]

That's right.

[Old Jim]

Hey, this is a funny place. You can see everything from here. You can look into the long ago and bring it all back.

[Old Will]

Sometimes you can, Jim. Not always.

[Old Jim]

You've been here a long time, haven't you?

[Old Will]

But you don't talk about time here. It doesn't exist.

[Old Jim]

Oh, I'm sorry. I'm new here, you see. I. I mean, I don't know. Things like you.

[Old Will]

You will, boy. You will.

[Old Jim]

What's happening now, then? Everything's fading. Your house. It's going to do something, Will.

[Old Will]

I can't.

[Old Jim]

Why not?

[Old Will]

It was only in our thoughts. It was our memories, Jim.

[Old Jim]

But I don't want it to go.

[Old Will]

Oh, you have to, boy. You have to let go.

[Old Jim]

Do I?

[Old Will]

You all do. Though it's hard at first.

[Old Jim]

I want to go home.

[Old Will]

You are home, Jim. This is home.

[Young Will]

She's.

[Old Will]

You'll find out, Bonnie. You'll find out soon enough.

[Old Jim]

Will?

[Old Will]

Yes?

[Old Jim]

One last look. Yes.

[Old Will]

Ah, I don't know about. Oh, please, it's not the regular thing.

[Old Jim]

Just this once.

[Old Will]

All right, then, I'll try. Just this once. As it's Christmas.

[Old Jim]

Oh, look, there you are. Looking through your bedroom window out into the moonlight and the unending smoke colored snow.

[Old Will]

You see? You're a poet, too.

[Narrator]

I could see the lights in the windows of all the other houses on our hill and hear the music rising from them up the long, steadily falling night. I turned the gas down. I got into bed. I said some words to the close and holy darkness.

[Old Will]

And then I slept.

[Narrator]

In a child's christmas in wales, old will was played by philip maddock. Old jim by freddie jones. Young will alan horan. Young jim by owen pillai. Mother by lynn hunter. Mrs. Protheroe by victoria putnutt. Mr. Protheroe by chris griffiths. Uncle ben by dillwyn owen. Auntie hannah by helen griffin. Fireman 2 by philip rowlands. Small, dry voice by richard elvin. Dan was owen bodicombe and jack was chris bodicombe. All other characters were played by members of the company. Original music was composed by andy price and the play was directed in wales by foz allen. A child's christmas in wales by dylan thomas, dramatized by herbert williams.