Out of the Frying Pan

Just Hear Those Sleigh Bells Jingling...

A carbide lamp works by a simple process of producing flammable acetylene gas through the combination of water and calcium carbide. The contraption has two compartments, upper and lower chambers. The lower holds about a quarter cup of crushed carbide, the upper holds the same in water (about two ounces). When the lever on the lamp is turned, the water drips slowly onto the carbide and makes acetylene gas. That gas goes through a jet and when the flint wheel is turned, it ignites. Coal miners used these, also railroad trains and Model T Fords.

Once the lanterns on the sleigh were lit, it was just like having headlights on a car. Grandpa told Lenny and Lanny to get into the front. He had taught them how to drive the buckboard that was kept in the back of the barn, and had told me that he was going to teach me sometime this summer. He handed Lenny the reins and told him, “It’s the same thing as the buckboard, except you have no wheels, so you need a wider turn.” Lenny nodded. “Lanny, you can take over on the way back,” Grandpa said.

Grandpa and I got in the back. He said to us, “Put your feet on the wrapped-up bricks and pull the blankets around ya, we’re going caroling in style!” We did as he said and Grandpa got his fiddle out and we were on our way.

I was so excited and happy, I could hardly contain myself. Every movement Jack made caused the bells to jingle, and he had the strength to pull just about anything, so pulling us was nothing to him. Out of the front yard and down the hill towards the main road, we stopped at the intersection.

“Turn right, Lenny,” Grandpa said. With a slight jerk, we turned right. Grandpa started playing “Jolly Old St. Nicholas,” and we started singing with the tune. You could have heard us a country mile away. Jack’s heavy steps, bells ringing, fiddle playing a merry tune and us singing at the top of our lungs. Up the road a piece, at the same place where we had seen the smoke from chimneys earlier that day, Grandpa told Lenny to turn right again.

After we left the main road, the houses came into view. Some just had a simple candle or two in their windows. Folks looked out as we approached. Some waved, some even came out to greet us, and like Grandpa said, we gave them a Christmas treat. Some gave us something in return for making them smile. A few of the families had little kids who thought we were Santa, and their parents took advantage of the opportunity to shoo them off to bed because “Santa surely won’t stop at our house if he knows y’all are still up.”

What a feeling I had while we were doing this. It was so incredibly wonderful, I wished it would never end. I didn’t even feel the cold. We just kept going up one road and down another, occasionally slowing long enough to get a sip of coffee to clear our throats and start again. At some of the houses we went to, folks would bring out their instruments and play a song or two with us. At one house, a little boy of about seven or eight who came out with his parents and older sister, believed we were Santa and his elves in disguise. Because of Jack being so big, he said, “Only Santa would have a giant horse like that!”

I can’t tell you how many songs we sang that night, for and with folks all ages, young and old alike. Some had a lot, some had a little, but one thing was for sure, all greeted us with the Christmas spirit and left us with a joyfulness unsurpassed. Even just a wave from a window or porch kept us warm that night.

Even Jack knew something special was taking place. He stood calmly and proudly as little children would come over look up at his massive frame, a couple even venturing to hug one of his legs. On this night with these children, rather than being his usual ornery self, Jack leaned his massive head down low so they could pet him.

Smile after smile, we traveled along, each home giving us the energy to go further. Eventually, though, it was time to turn around. “Let’s go home, boys, “Grandpa said, “I’m plumb tuckered out and I’m sure you are too.”

Lanny took the reins. The moon was bright and followed us, casting a light that made everything shimmer as if touched by magic. The temperature had dropped considerably, but the bricks were still quite warm in the floor board, keeping our blankets toasty. Jack didn’t seem to mind the cold as he kept a steady pace.

I asked Grandpa if his hands were cold because he wore fingerless wool gloves. “No, they’re fine,” he answered, “the cold has to get past all of the callouses first.” As we came around a bend in the road, Lenny called out, “Look! You can see Grandpa’s house from here!” Lanny pulled on the reins and we stopped.

We were all quiet as we stared up at the house on the hill. For that moment, the quiet surrounded us, broken only by the sound of the trees swaying in the breeze. Into that perfect silence, Grandpa gently introduced the first notes of “Silent Night.”

The combination of the soulful and solemn violin music, the crisp moonlight, our joy-filled hearts, and the sight of that house with smoke rising out of its chimneys and multicolored lights on its front porch, burned those moments forever into my memory.

When the last note faded back into the silence, Lanny whispered, “Grandpa was right. It is like a beacon of welcome for all to see.”

Sleigh Ride
Written by: Leroy Anderson & Mitchel Parish

Just hear those sleigh bells jingling, ring-ting-tingling too
Come on it’s lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you
Outside the snow is falling and friends are calling yoo-hoo
Come on it’s lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you

Our cheeks are nice and rosy and comfy cozy are we
We’re snuggling close together like two birds of a feather should be
Let’s take the road before us and sing a chorus or two
Come on it’s lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you

There’s a birthday party at the home of farmer Gray
It’ll be the perfect ending to the perfect day
We’ll be singing the songs we love to sing
Without a single stop
At the fireplace where we’ll watch the chestnuts pop
Pop, pop, pop

There’s a happy feeling nothing in the world can buy
When they pass around the coffee and the pumpkin pie
It’ll nearly be like a picture print by Currier and Ives
These wonderful things are the things we remember all through our lives