'Tis the season to be landed with God knows how many bits of tat, for God knows how many nieces, nephews and assorted other hangers-on.

If you have an edge of Ebenezer about you, it is not the material sacrifice that makes this so galling, it's a simple point of principle（Carton Display） to rage against shelling out on battery-operated chicks, beat-sensitive dancing robots or reindeer antler deely bobbers, and all at Yuletide-puffed prices.

All hail, then, the pound shop. It may betray the decline of the British high street, but it makes acquitting one's Christmas shopping so cheap as to be almost a joy. And any miser stepping inside will also discover, in that great miserly phrase, "perfectly serviceable" egg separators, photo frames, kitchen scissors and more. £170,000 a week has not diminished John Terry's taste for a bargain: he was snapped with a bulging basket in Poundworld, Woking(Carton Display). Christmas or not, the determined can end up quids in.