December 20
From Domina Temporis: A Christmas Carol
Inspector Lestrade sank gratefully back into the comfortable seat offered by Watson. "
"Drink?" Watson asked.
"Yes, I could certainly use one after this last case.
"It's been a cold night." Watson nodded.
"Gathering up the last of the criminal gang at the abandoned barn wasn't easy. I had to make sure my men didn't alert them to our presence."
"I'm glad you succeeded, Inspector. It must have been difficult maintaining your silent position in such freezing temperatures." Watson shivered involuntarily thinking about Lestrade's stake out.
The Inspector nodded and took an appreciative swallow of his brandy.
Just then, the pair heard the melodious strains of some carollers outside their window on the street below.
Watson walked over to the window to watch the large group of merry singers going door-to-door bringing Christmas cheer.
"Here we come a-wassailing among the leaves so green;
Here we come a-wandering, so fair to be seen.
Love and joy come to you, and to you our wassail, too…"
The words trailed off as the group meandered happily down the road further.
"What's a wassail, Watson?" the Inspector broke the silence.
"I believe it's a beverage of hot mulled cider. It dates back to medieval times when there was a tradition of brewing wassail in enormous bowels. Peasants got together and drank this mulled brew, toasting to each other's good health and a bountiful apple harvest."
So wassailing is basically an ancient English drinking ritual?"
"I suppose you could look at that way," Watson mused. "Mostly now I think it's all about wishing each other a happy Christmas."
Lestrade raised his glass toward Watson. "Well then, to wassailing."
Watson smiled. "To wassailing."