Prompt: Unique Interpretations of Christmas carols, from cjnwriter

My friend, Sherlock Holmes, lived a life of the most confirmed bachelorhood and bohemianism. His coldly logical nature meant that emotions were foreign to him and all attachments abhorrent.

It would therefore surprise anyone who knew of him only from my stories in the Strand that he was surprisingly skilled at dealing with children. At first I thought, watching him with the little band of street urchins he termed his Baker Street Irregulars, that he had trained himself in dealing with children much as he had engaged in the study of different types of cigarette ash or the treads of different shoes. However, I soon realized he had a talent for this that at times surpassed his manner with adults of his own class and age. I believe that he found the honesty and directness of children refreshing, as they engaged in little dissimulation and were usually willing to discuss all manner of interesting things not often suited for polite conversation, such as poisons and the best pickpocketing methods.

I had often watched Holmes engage with his Irregulars with a stab of wistfulness. My Mary and I had not been able to have a child before her untimely passing, and I had thought to myself on several occasions that a child would have been a great comfort, someone to carry on her memory. Alas, it was not to be. As the years went on , however, I regretted nearly as much that I had also missed the chance to name Holmes godfather, as I surely would have. He would, I believe, have been an attentive and devoted godfather, though perhaps the religious nature of the position would have placed him falsely.

I digress. Christmas, with its focus on treats and gifts, was naturally a favorite of any child and Holmes's Irregulars were no exceptions. They seemed to appear all the more often during the month of December, always leaving with biscuits and tarts from Mrs. Hudson, who indulged them greatly. "I shall not be able to induce them to work if Mrs. Hudson insists on spoiling them," Holmes said one evening after a veritable feast had been laid out downstairs for the Irregulars by our estimable landlady. We could hear the excited shouts and squeals as the little boys saw the food laid out for them.

"You shall," I said. "They look up to you greatly, Holmes." More than one had expressed the desire to become a detective upon reaching adulthood. Though I was more gratified by the assertion of one Ronald Perkins, seven years old, that he would rather be a doctor. "Like Dr. Watson!" He'd said, grinning a gap-toothed grin.

"Perhaps," Holmes said. "In any case, Watson-"

"GOD BLESS YOU, MERRY GENTLEMEN, LET NOTHING YOU DISMAY!"

The singing of a great many small children is much more akin to shouting, and I smiled knowingly as the entire complement of the Baker Street Irregulars climbed the stairs to our sitting room, still singing.

"Have the merry gentlemen sneezed recently?" Holmes asked softly.

"I told you those weren't the words!" Tim Tybolt, second in command after Wiggins, cried.

"Sure they are," little Ronald, who wanted to be a doctor, said.

"It's 'get rest, you Merry gentlemen," Melinda said, with an air of great patience.

"That doesn't make any sense, Melinda," Ronald said. Sam, the youngest, merely took a breath and began singing again.

"GET DRESSED YOU MERRY GENTLEMEN-"

"No, no, that's not it!" Melinda said.

"What?" Sam asked. "They're getting dressed for Christmas!"

"It's 'get rest,'" Melinda said. "Because they've got to get rest before Christmas, don't they?"

"Getting dressed up for Christmas makes more sense," Sam said stubbornly.

"Does not!" Melinda said, and before long we had a veritable war being waged on our hearth rug over the correct lyrics to Christmas carols.

Holmes attempted to get the children's attention several times before he finally picked up his violin and scraped the bow across the strings so it made the most dreadful shriek. The children all clapped their hands over their ears and looked up at him indignantly.

"I merely wanted to settle this argument before it ended in bloodshed," Holmes began.

"Ah, I wouldn't have let them fight in your sitting room, Mr. Holmes," Wiggins said. The leader of the Irregulars was a lanky boy approaching the age of thirteen. I imagined Holmes would be searching for a position for him soon, as was his wont when Irregulars grew too old to carry on in the type of jobs he needed them for.

"How does the song go, Mr. Holmes?" Ronald asked. "You said you'd tell us."

"I certainly shall," Holmes said. "It is 'God Rest You, Merry Gentlemen.'"

The Irregulars all looked dubiously at each other. "Well, that doesn't make any sense," Tim said bluntly.

"It doesn't even mean anything," Melinda added.

The Irregulars, as children so often do, had pointed out the obvious so many adults miss. I had heard the song so many times that I had ceased to wonder about its meaning, yet undoubtedly I had once wondered myself what it meant. It certainly did not make any sense to our modern ears. Perhaps it had once, at some long ago point in history.

Holmes was obviously thinking the same thing as I was. "I believe, Ronald, it is a wish for God to grant you a restful and happy Christmas."

"Well, then why wouldn't they just say that?" Sam asked, and I could not help but laugh. Even Holmes allowed an amused smirk to cross his face.

"Well, it is a very old song. Undoubtedly the language has changed since then," he said. He almost certainly could have explained how exactly the language had changed, but seeing the Irregulars' faces lose all interest he wisely cut his explanation short. "You have your biscuits and your answer, I shall expect you back next week with your reports."

"Yes, Mr. Holmes!" The children chorused, scampering out and thundering down the stairs.

"You know, Holmes, they are right. The song would make much more sense if it were about getting dressed or getting rest before the holiday," I remarked.

"Perhaps," Holmes said. "Watson, pass me my violin. All this discussion of Christmas carols has given me the urge to play."

A/N: bonus points if any of you are Cabin Pressure fans and caught the reference