[Throughout the memoir, the author renders the Norfolk accent when she ‘quotes’ family and neighbours]

At three o’clock in the morning, there we were all eager to get up. We lay in bed counting up to sixties, which meant another minute gone—until we could stand no more of it, and there we were asking “Can we get up?” Father would be heard to say ‘Damn them children” and mother said “No dears you can’t get up yet, du yu sing some carols till five o’clock”. So with our little piping voices, like birds in a nest, we struck up—

List our merry carol on this Blessed morn

For our loving Saviour, on Christmas Day was born. 

Then in the excitement of carol singing the time went quickly, and at last we were given permission to go down in our nightgowns, and see if Santa Claus had been—of course he had […]

We tripped off to Church so keen to tell and to hear of each others gifts, to sing the beautiful carols, the church was so much a part of our lives, and then home to a beautifully cooked dinner […]