In later years, br seated around a huge fire, br crackling and spitting on a snowy night, br the best beer in Europe frothing from the jug, br they'd ask him, jocular like but curious with it, br how it felt to be remembered br just once a year, all over the known world br for that one night long ago? br br ' 'tis strange really: he were a right sod to work for afore that - br never a word to me, as if I didn't be there; br but that night, it were strange - br it were the moment he stood there looking out of the window: br there were summat in the room - br wish I were a writer, like, br to say what it were... br br we've never spoken about it, mind, br but we both know it's there unspoken, like.. br we haven't had a bad word between us ever since... br that's what I'd like to write about, br that's the moment...' br br silence for a time, as they looked into the hissing fire, br those woodcutters and their mates; br then put their coats on, trudged out br into the snow 'where the saint...' br br well you know the rest...