(Credit goes to John Julius Norwich, edited slightly to make me an elf.) ^_^
25th December:
Dear Santa,
That partridge, in that lovely little pear tree! What an adorable, enchanting, poetic present! Bless you and thank you.
Your faithful elf, Jolly.
26th December:
Dear Santa,
The two turtle doves arrived this morning and are cooing away in the pear tree as I write. I'm so touched and grateful.
With undying devotion, as always, Jolly.
27th December:
Dear Santa,
You do thinks of the most original presents: whoever thought of sending anybody three French hens? Do they really come all the way from France? It's a pity that we have no chicken coops, but I expect we'll find some. Thank you, anyway, they're lovely.
Your eternally grateful elf, Jolly.
28th December:
Dear Santa,
What a surprise - four calling birds arrived this morning. They are very sweet, even if they do call rather loudly - they make telephoning impossible. But I expect they'll calm down when they get used to their new home. Anyway, I'm very grateful - of course I am.
Lots of love from Jolly.
29th December:
Dear Santa,
The post-elf has just delivered five most beautiful gold rings, one for each finger, and all fitting perfectly. A really lovely present - lovelier in a way than birds, which do take rather a lot of looking after. The four that arrived yesterday are still making a terrible row, and I'm afraid none of use got much sleep last night. Mama Elf says she wants us to use the rings to 'wring' their necks - she's only joking, I think; though I know what she means. But I love the rings. Bless you.
Your most devoted elf, Jolly.
30th December:
Dear Santa,
Whatever I expected to find when I opened the front door this morning, it certainly wasn't six socking great geese laying eggs all over the doorstep. Frankly, I rather hoped you had stopped sending me birds - we have no room for them and they have already ruined the croquet lawn. I know you meant well, but - let's call a halt, shall we?
Love, Jolly.
31st December:
Santa,
I thought I said no more birds; but this morning I woke up to find no less than seven swans all trying to get into our tiny goldfish pond. I'd rather not thinks what happened to the goldfish. The whole house seems to be full of birds - to say nothing of what they leave behind them. Please, please STOP.
Your elf Jolly.
1st January:
Frankly, I think I prefer the birds. What am I to do with eight milkmaids - AND their cows? Is this some kind of a joke? If so, I'm afraid I don't find it very amusing.
Jolly.
2nd January:
Look here Santa, this has gone far enough. You say you're sending me nine ladies dancing; all I can say is that judging from the way they dance, they're certainly not ladies. The elf village just isn't accustomed to seeing a regiment of shameless hussies with nothing on but their lipstick cavorting round the toy factory - and it's Mama Elf and I who get blamed. If you value your elves loyalty - which I do less and less - kindly stop this ridiculous behaviour at once.
Jolly.
3rd January:
As I write this letter, ten disgusting old men are prancing abour all over what used to be the garden - before the geese and the swans and the cows got at it; and several of them, I notice, are taking inexcusable liberties with the milkmaids. Meanwhile the other elves are trying to have us evicted. This is a clear case of harassment of an employee and I won't stand for it anymore!
Jolly.
4th January:
This is the last straw. You know I detest bagpipes. The toy factory has now become something between a menagerie and a madhouse and an elf from the Council has just declared it an unsafe work environment and cancelled all toy production. At least Mama Elf has been spared this last outrage; they took her away yesterday afternoon in an ambulance. If your goal was to drive your poor faithful elf out of his job so that you could give that promotion to your lazy nephew Jim then you succeeded. Consider this my formal resignation. I hope you're satisfied.
Your former employee, Jolly.
5th January:
Sir,
Our client, Jolly the Elf, instructs me to inform you that with the arrival on his premises a half-past seven this morning of the entire percussion section of the North Pole Philharmonic Orchestra, he has no course left open to him but to seek an injunction to prevent your importuning him further. I am making arrangements for the return of much assorted livestock.
I am, Sir, Yours faithfully, G.TINKER Elf-at-law.
