Pantos, puds and a Father Christmas who isn't quite what he seems to be...Rumpole isn't particularly fond of Christmas - time has a horrible habit of hanging heavily on the hands as the usual rituals are observed: exchanging presents with She Who Must Be Obeyed (a tie for him; lavender water for her) before settling down round the fire at Froxbury Mansions for a traditional turkey with all the trimmings and a bottle of Chateau Thames Embankment, then the Queen's Speech and a glass of port. But at least the criminal fraternity never rests, and many is the time Rumpole's 'celebrations' have been rudely interrupted. In these seven Christmas stories, previously published only in magazines, the call of justice (and a bit of excitement) leads Rumpole as far afield as a health farm in Norfolk and as near to home as a pantomime at the Tufnell Park Empire.