Hogfather

to have a whole bag of word games, for one thing. Or she’ll suggest we go outdoors for our health.”
    The wizards shuddered. They weren’t against the outdoors, it was simply their place in it they objected to.
    “Cheerfulness has always got me down,” said the Dean.
    “Well, if some wretched little ball of cheerfulness turns up I shan’t have it for one,” said the Senior Wrangler, folding his arms. “I’ve put up with monsters and trolls and big green things with teeth, so I’m not sitting still for any kind of—”
    “Hello!! Hello!!”
    The voice was the kind of voice that reads suitable stories to children. Every vowel was beautifully rounded. And they could hear the extra exclamation marks, born of a sort of desperate despairing jollity, slot into place. They turned.
    The Cheerful Fairy was quite short and plump in a tweed skirt and shoes so sensible they could do their own tax returns, and was pretty much like the first teacher you get at school, the one who has special training in dealing with nervous incontinence and little boys whose contribution to the wonderful world of sharing consists largely of hitting a small girl repeatedly over the head with a wooden horse. In fact, this picture was helped by the whistle on a string around her neck and a general impression that at any moment she would clap her hands.
    The tiny gauzy wings just visible on her back were probably just for show, but the wizards kept on staring at her shoulder.
    “Hello—” she said again, but a lot more uncertainly. She gave them a suspicious look. “You’re rather big boys,” she said, as if they’d become so in order to spite her. She blinked. “It’s my job to chase those blues away,” she added, apparently following a memorized script. Then she seemed to rally a bit and went on. “So chins up, everyone, and let’s see a lot of bright shining faces!!”
    Her gaze met that of the Senior Wrangler, who had probably never had a bright shining face in his entire life. He specialized in dull, sullen ones. The one he was wearing now would have won prizes.
    “Excuse me, madam,” said Ridcully. “But is that a chicken on your shoulder?”
    “It’s, er, it’s, er, it’s the Blue Bird of Happiness,” said the Cheerful Fairy. Her voice now had the slightly shaking tone of someone who doesn’t quite believe what she has just said but is going to go on saying it anyway, just in case saying it will eventually make it true.
    “I beg your pardon, but it is a chicken. A live chicken,” said Ridcully. “It just went cluck.”
    “It is blue,” she said hopelessly.
    “Well, that at least is true,” Ridcully conceded, as kindly as he could manage. “Left to myself, I expect I’d have imagined a slightly more streamlined Blue Bird of Happiness, but I can’t actually fault you there.”
    The Cheerful Fairy coughed nervously and fiddled with the buttons on her sensible woolly jumper.
    “How about a nice game to get us all in the mood?” she said. “A guessing game, perhaps? Or a painting competition? There may be a small prize for the winner.”
    “Madam, we’re wizards,” said the Senior Wrangler. “We don’t do cheerful.”
    “Charades?” said the Cheerful Fairy. “Or perhaps you’ve been playing them already? How about a singsong? Who knows ‘Row Row Row Your Boat’?”
    Her bright little smile hit the group scowl of the assembled wizards. “We don’t want to be Mr. Grumpy, do we?” she added hopefully.
    “Yes,” said the Senior Wrangler.
    The Cheerful Fairy sagged, and then patted frantically at her shapeless sleeves until she tugged out a balled-up handkerchief. She dabbed at her eyes.
    “It’s all going wrong again, isn’t it?” she said, her chin trembling. “No one ever wants to be cheerful these days, and I really do try. I’ve made a Joke Book and I’ve got three boxes of clothes for charades and…and…and whenever I try to cheer people up they all look embarrassed…and really I do make an effort…”
    She blew her nose loudly.
    Even the Senior Wrangler had the grace to look embarrassed.
    “Er…” he began.
    “Would it hurt anyone just occasionally to try to be a little bit cheerful?” said the Cheerful Fairy.
    “Er…in what way?” said the Senior Wrangler, feeling wretched.
    “Well, there’s so many nice things to be cheerful about,” said the Cheerful Fairy, blowing her nose again.
    “Er…raindrops and sunsets and that sort of thing?” said the Senior