The Great December Tempest of '35 left many in the lurch. With snowdrifts rising higher than midsize sedans, the trains simply couldn't move. Mogey and Smush's farm was not far from the Bustleburg Railway Hub (with connections to Newington, New Newington, Newington-upon-Fluke, and Bumswood), and since they owned a sleigh driven by two sturdy yorkshire hogs named Mrs. McGillicuddy and The Vandal, they were asked to take in a stranded family on Christmas.
"Now, Smush," Mogey reminded his pal as Mrs. M and T.V. oinked their way through the snow, "our guests are from another culture. We need to remember that their Christmas rituals may be different from ours, and respect their traditions as best we can."
Smush glanced back at the family of seven of who rode behind them in the sleigh. The smallest daughter waved to him cheerily. "They're not going to shoot pistols in the air at midnight or anything, are they?" he grumped.
"I hope not for Saint Nicholas's sake," Mogey answered. "But if that's their Christmas routine, we may need to dust off the blunderbusses and join in!"
They arrived at the farm and got everyone unloaded without incident, which is saying something considering The Vandal's habit of nipping at and consuming mittens belonging to small children. Several hours later, they had all gathered around the woodstove for a pleasant Christmas Eve nightcap.
"Throw a log on the fire, will ye, lad?" said Ol' Grandad, the guest family's middle son. "That drafty train station chilled me to my bones."
Smush eyed Mogey incredulously. His pal simply mouthed the words Christmas traditions in reply.
So Smush haughtily walked outside and returned with a chocolate-frosted marzipan-filled yule log, which he unceremoniously tossed into the fireplace.
"Was that cake?" exclaimed Ol' Grandad, his teenage voice cracking. "What'd you throw it in the fire for?"
"You asked me to!" Smush replied.
"Nay, nay," Ol' Grandad said. "I meant a log, you know, like from the log pile."
"Where'd you think I got that one?" a very exasperated Smush replied. "I hope your strange practices don't require too many others to be burnt. We've only got 60 to 70 more yule logs in the pile, and half of them aren't even chocolate."
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment