Status Updates From The Shop of Ghosts

"Not taking money," I replied, "seems to me more like an uncommonly
new fashion than an old one."

"I never have," said the old man, blinking and blowing his nose;
"I've always given presents. I'm too old to stop."

"Good heavens!" I said. "What can you mean? Why, you might
be Father Christmas."

"I am Father Christmas," he said apologetically, and blew
his nose again.

matter.

But if you want to see what a vast and bewildering array
of valuable things you can get at a halfpenny each you
should do as I was doing last night. I was gluing my nose
against the glass of a very small and dimly lit toy shop
in one of the greyest and leanest of the streets of Battersea.

…But the general principle will be at once apparent. In the street behind me, you can now get a ride on an electric tram for a halfpenny. To be on an electric tram is to be on a flying castle in a fairy tale.

Nearly all the best and most precious things in the universe you can
get for a halfpenny. I make an exception, of course, of the sun,
the moon, the earth, people, stars, thunderstorms, and such trifles.
You can get them for nothing….

An interesting tale—not a novel—in which the narrator meets Father Christmas. He’s an old proprietor of a small toy shop who refuses any money. He appears not well which worries the narrator, but later when visited by the ghosts of various authors, it turns out that he’s never been well. The world is fallen.