This is the central post office.  A huge golden chair lays against one of
the walls, lines with red silk, and seated firmly in it is jolly ol'
Saint Nick.  He has a beard that looks like fluffy snow, and wears all
red, white and back.  Beside him is a huge sack, not yet filled until
Christmas comes around.  His cheeks are a rosy marry and he has a gut that
makes it look like its Christmas all the time around his place.  He is
currently reading a letter from a small child.  He is here in the DT Post
Office because of the Postal Strike; this is the only way he can get his
letters ontime.  He winks at you as you look at him.
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