The angels were young, and very shy. They had never been shopping before and didn't understand the currency. They gazed into the brightly decorated windows, but they didn't go in because they were afraid of looking silly.

They came to a beautiful gift shop full of pretty teapots and jugs. They saw a golden dinner service made of the finest porcelain. 'What a wonderful present that would make for our brothers and sisters in Heaven. It is just perfect for our Christmas feast. Shall we go in and ask the price?' The other one looked at the notes and coins in their purse and frowned. 'Suppose we don't have enough money?'

As they hesitated, a Spanish toreador passed them wearing his suit of lights. In his costume sumptuously embroidered with gold thread, he was much more impressive than the angels. Then two large black bulls came running up the high street. The angels quickly stepped aside to avoid being knocked flat when the creatures turned and galloped past them into the gift shop.

The shopkeeper's heart leaped into his mouth when he saw them. 'I'm not having this,' he thought. 'I must take the bull by the horns.' He seized the first bull and demanded, 'What are you doing in here? A bull in a china shop is the stuff of nightmares!'

The great beast tossed its head, freeing its horns. 'Don't you know,' he said, 'that bulls rush in where angels fear to tread?'

'Not bulls! Fools! Fools rush in!' said the man.

The bull lowered his head and pawed the ground. 'Same difference,' he muttered, sheepishly.