But it is in the old story that all the beasts can talk, in the night
between Christmas Eve and Christmas Day in the morning (though
there are very few folk that can hear them, or know what it is that
When the Cathedral clock struck twelve there was an answer—like
an echo of the chimes—and Simpkin heard it, and came out of the
tailor's door, and wandered about in the snow.
From all the roofs and gables and old wooden houses in Gloucester
came a thousand merry voices singing the old Christmas rhymes—
all the old songs that ever I heard of, and some that I don't know,
like Whittington's bells.