'Tis the season to appreciate the priceless gift of point-to-pointing

It was the feast of Stephen and the snow lay deep and even, when a poor man came in sight and King Wenceslas sent me down to let him in before he pinched our winter fuel.

"Yonder peasant, who is he?" said the king. "No idea, Guv," said I, "Shall I pelt him with snowballs and send him on his way?"

The king, being infinitely smarter than his staff, beckoned the stranger in and said: "What be your business?"