A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens

0:00A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens Preface I have endeavored in this ghostly little book to raise the ghost of an idea which shall not put my readers out of humor with themselves with each other with the season or with me. May it haunt their houses pleasantly, and no one wished to lay it. Their faithful friend and servant, Charles Dickens, December 1843. STAVE ONE Marley's Ghost Marley was dead to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. The cruege signed it, and Scrooge's name was good upon change for anything he chose to put his hand to. Old Marley was as dead as a doenail.

1:02Mind, I don't mean to say that I know of my own knowledge what there is particularly dead about a doenail. I might have been inclined myself to regard a coffin-nail as the deadest piece of iron mongerie in the trade, but the wisdom of our ancestors is in the simile, and my unhallowed hands shall not disturb it, more the country is done for. You will therefore permit me to repeat emphatically that Marley was as dead as a doenail. Scrooge knew he was dead? Well, of course he did. How could it be otherwise? Scrooge and he were partners for I don't know how many years. Scrooge was his sole executor, his sole administrator, his sole assign, his sole residuality, his sole friend and sole mourner. And even Scrooge was not so dreadfully cut up by the sad events, but that he was an excellent man of business on the very day of the funeral, and solemnized it with an undoubted bargain.

2:09The mention of Marley's funeral brings me back to the point I started from. There is no doubt that Marley was dead. This must be distinctly understood, more nothing wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate. If we were not perfectly convinced that Hamlet's father died before the play began, there would be nothing more remarkable in his taking a stroll at night in an easterly wind upon his own ramparts than there would be in any other middle-aged gentleman rashly turning out after dark in a breezy spot, say St. Paul's churchyard, for instance, literally to astonish his son's weak mind. Scrooge never painted out old Marley's name. There it stood years afterwards above the warehouse door, Scrooge and Marley. The firm was known as Scrooge and Marley. Sometimes people knew to the business called Scrooge Scrooge, and sometimes Marley, but

3:13he answered to both names. It was all the same to him. Oh, but he was a tight-fisted hand at the grindstone, Scrooge, a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, cuffed us old sinner. Old and sharp as Flint, from which no steel had ever struck out generous fire, secret and self-contained and solitary as an oyster. The cold within him froze his old features, nipped his pointed nose, shriveled his cheek, stiffened his gate, made his eyes red, his thin lips blue, and spoke out shrewdly in his grating voice. The frosty rhyme was on his head, and on his eyebrows and his wiry chin. He carried his own low temperature always about with him. He iced his office in the dog days, and didn't thought it won degree at Christmas.

4:16External heat and cold had little influence on Scrooge. No warmth could warm, no wintry weather chill him. No wind that blue was better than he, no falling snow was more intent upon its purpose, no pelting rain less open to entry-tie. Fowl weather didn't know where to have him. The heaviest rain and snow and hail and sleets could boast of the advantage over him in only one respect. They often came down handsomely, and Scrooge never did. When he ever stopped him in the street to say, with glad some looks, my dear Scrooge, how are you? When will you come to see me? The beggars implored him to bestow a trifle, no children asked him what it was o'clock. No man or woman ever once in all his life inquired the way to such and such a place of Scrooge.

5:17And the blind men's dogs appeared to know him, and when they saw him coming on, would tug their owners into doorways and up courts, and then would wag their tails as though they said, no I at all is better than an even one dark master. But what did Scrooge care? It was the very thing he liked. To edge his way along the crowded paths of life, warning all human sympathy to keep its distance, was what the knowing ones call nuts to Scrooge. Once upon a time, of all the good days in the year on Christmas Eve, old Scrooge sat busy in his counting-house. It was cold, bleak, biting weather, foggy with awe, and he could hear the people in the court outside go wheezing up and down, beating their hands upon their breasts, and stamping their feet upon the pavement stones to warm them.

6:19The city-clock's had only just gone three, but it was quite dark already. It had not been light all day, and candles were flaring in the windows of the neighbouring offices like ruddy smears upon the palpable brown air. The fog came pouring in at every chink and keyhole, and was so dense without that although the court was of the narrowest, the house's opposite were mere phantoms. To see the dingy cloud gum drooping down, obscuring everything, one might have thought that nature lived hard by and was brewing on a large scale. The door of Scrooge's counting-house was open, that he might keep his eye upon his clerk, who, in a dismal little cell beyond, a sort of tank, was copying letters. Scrooge had a very small fire, but the clerk's fire was so much smaller that it looked like

7:19one coal. But he couldn't replenish it, for Scrooge kept the coal-box in his own room, and so shortly as the clerk came in with the shovel, the master predicted that it would be necessary for them to part. Therefore the clerk put on his white comforter and tried to warm himself at the candle, in which efforts, not being a man of a strong imagination, he failed. A merry Christmas, Uncle! God save you! Cryed a cheerful voice. It was the voice of Scrooge's nephew, who came upon him so quickly that this was the first intimation he had of his approach. Ba, said Scrooge. Humbug! He had so heated himself with his rapid walking in the fog and frost, this nephew of Scrooge's, that he was all in a glow. His face was ruddy and handsome, his eyes sparkled, and his breath smoked again.

8:23Christmas a humbug, Uncle! said Scrooge's nephew. You don't mean that, I am sure. I do, sense Scrooge. Merry Christmas! What right have you to be married? What reason have you to be married? You're poor enough. Who come, then? Return the nephew galley. What right have you to be dismal? What reason have you to be more roast? You're rich enough. Scrooge having no better answer ready on the spur of the moment said, Ba! Again, and followed it up with Humbug. Don't be cross, Uncle! said the nephew. Oh, what else can I be? Return the Uncle. When I live in such a world of fools as this. Merry Christmas! Out upon Merry Christmas! What Christmas time do you, but a time for paying bills without money? A time for finding yourself a year older, but not an hour richer.

9:28A time for balancing your books and having every item in them through around dozen of months presented dead against you. If I could work my will, said Scrooge indignantly. Every idiot who goes about with Merry Christmas on his lips should be boiled with his own punning and buried with a stack of hearty through his heart. He should. Uncle! Pleated the nephew. Naph you! Returned the Uncle sternly. Keep Christmas in your own way and let me keep it in mind. Keep it! Repeated Scrooge's nephew. But you don't keep it. Let me leave it alone then, said Scrooge. Much good may I do you. Much good has it ever done you. There are many things from which I might have derived good by which I have not profited, I dare say. Returned the nephew. Christmas among the rest.

10:29But I am sure I have always thought of Christmas time when it has come round, apart from the veneration duets, sacred name and origin. If anything belonging to it can be apart from that, as a good time, a kind forgiving, charitable pleasant time. The only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. And therefore, Uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good, and I say, God bless it. The clerk in the tank involuntarily applauded.

11:29Becoming immediately sensible of the impropriety, he poked the fire and extinguished the last frail spark forever. Let me hear another sound from you, said Scrooge, and you'll keep your Christmas by losing your situation. You're quite a powerful speaker, sir. We added, turning to his nephew, I wonder you don't go into Parliament. Don't be angry, Uncle. Come, dine with us tomorrow. He said that he would see him. Yes, indeed he did. He went the whole length of the expression, and said that he would see him in that extremity first. But why, cried Scrooge's nephew? Why? Why did you get married, said Scrooge? Oh, because I fell in love.

12:32As you fell in love. Groud Scrooge, as if that were the only one thing in the world more ridiculous than a Merry Christmas. Good afternoon. May, Uncle, but you never came to see me before that happened. Why give it as a reason for not coming now? Good afternoon, said Scrooge. I want nothing from you. I ask nothing of you. Why cannot we be friends? But afternoon, said Scrooge. I am sorry, with all my heart to find you so resolute. We have never had any quarrel to which I have been a party, but I have made the trial in homage to Christmas, and I'll keep my Christmas humour to the last. So a Merry Christmas, Uncle. Good afternoon, said Scrooge, and a happy new year. Good afternoon. Good afternoon, said Scrooge.

13:33His nephew left the room without an angry word, notwithstanding. He stopped at the outer door to bestow the greetings of the season on the clerk. Who, call as he was, was warmer than Scrooge, for he returned them cordially. There's another fellow, muttered Scrooge, who overheard him. I clerk with fifteen shillings a week, and a wife and family, talking about a Merry Christmas. I'll retire to bed them. This lunatic, letting Scrooge's nephew out, had let two other people in. They were portly gentlemen, pleasant to behold, and now stood with their hats off in Scrooge's office. They had books and papers in their hands, and bowed to him. Scrooge and Molly, I believe, said one of the gentlemen, referring to his list, have either pleasure of addressing Mr. Scrooge or Mr. Molly.

14:36Mr. Molly has been dead these seven years, Scrooge replied. He died seven years ago this very night. We have no doubt his liberality is well represented by his surviving partner. Said the gentlemen, presenting his credentials. It certainly was, for they had been two kindred spirits. At the ominous word, liberality, Scrooge frowned, and shook his head, and handed the credentials back. At this festive season of the year, Mr. Scrooge, said the gentlemen, taking up a pen. It is more than usual it desirable that we should make some slight provision for the poor and destitute, who suffer greatly at the present time. Many thousands are in want of common necessaries. Hundreds of thousands are in want of common comforts, sir. They are no prisons, as Scrooge.

15:38Oh, plenty of prisons, said the gentlemen, laying down the pen again. And the Union Work Houses demanded Scrooge, are they still in operation? They are still returned the gentlemen. I wish I could say they were not. The treadmill and the poor law are in full vigor, then," said Scrooge. Both very busy, sir. Ah, I was afraid from what you said at first, that something had occurred to stop them in their useful course, said Scrooge. I'm very glad to hear it. Under the impression that they scarcely furnished question-chair of mind or body to the people to Jude, returned the gentlemen, a few of us are endeavoring to raise a fund to buy the poor some meat and drink and means of warmth. We choose this time, because it is a time of all others, when want is key lift out and

16:42abundance rejoices. What shall we put you down for? Nothing, Scrooge replied. Ah, you wish to remain anonymous. I wish to be left alone," said Scrooge. Since you ask me what I wish, gentlemen, that is my answer. I don't make merry myself at Christmas, and I can't afford to make idle people marry. I help to support the establishments I have mentioned, they cost enough, and those who are badly off must go there. Ah, many can't go there, and many would rather die. Oh, if they would rather die, said Scrooge, they had better do it and decreased the surplus population. Besides, excuse me, I don't know that. But you might know it, observe the gentlemen. It's not my business, Scrooge returned.

17:45It's a nut for a man to understand his own business, and not to interfere with other peoples. Mine occupies me constantly. Good afternoon, gentlemen. Seeing clearly that it would be useless to pursue their points, the gentlemen withdrew. Scrooge resumed his labours with an improved opinion of himself, adding a more facetious tamper than was usual with him. Meanwhile the fog and darkness thickened so that people ran about with flaring links, profering their services to go before horses in carriages, and conduct them on their way. The ancient tower of a church, whose gruff-old bell was always peeping slightly down at Scrooge out of a gothic window in the wall, became invisible, and struck the hours and quarters in the clouds, with tremulous vibrations afterwards, as if its teeth were chattering

18:46in its frozen head up there. The cold became intense. In the main street, at the corner of the court, some labourers were repairing the gaspipes, and had lighted a great fire and a brazier, round which a party of ragged men and boys were gathered, warming their hands and winking their eyes before the blaze in rapture. The water-plug, being left in solitude, its overflowing solidly congealed and turned to mis-entropic ice. The brightness of the shops where holly sprigs and berries crackled in the lap-heat of the windows, made pale faces ruddy as they passed. The windows and grocers trades became a splendid joke, a glorious pageant with which it was next to impossible to believe that such dull principles as bargain and sale had anything to do. The Lord Mayor, in the stronghold of the mighty mansion-house, gave orders to his fifty

19:48cooks and butlers to keep Christmas as a Lord Mayor's household should, and even the little tailor whom he had find five shillings on the previous Monday for being drunk and bloodthirsty in the streets, stirred up tomorrow's pudding in his garret, while his lean wife in the baby solid out to buy the beef. Foggy a yet and colder, piercing, searching, biting cold. If the good St. Dunston had but nipped the evil spirits' nose with a touch of such weather as that, instead of using its familiar weapons, then indeed he would have roared to lusty purpose. The owner of one scat the young nose, nod and mumbled by the hungry cold as bones are nod by dogs, stooped down at Scrooge's keyhole to regale him with a Christmas garrow. But at the first sound of, God bless you, Mary Gentleman, may nothing you dismay!

20:51Scrooge seized the ruler with such energy of action that the singer fled in terror, leaving the keyhole to the fog, and even more congenial frost. At length the hour of shutting up the counting-house arrived. With an ill will Scrooge dismounted from his stool and tacitly admitted the fact to the expectant clerk in the tank, who instantly snuffed his candle out and put on his hat. He'll want all day tomorrow, I suppose, said Scrooge. If quite convenient, sir. It's not convenient, said Scrooge, and it's not fair. If I were to stop half a crown for it, you'd think yourself ill used I'll be bound. The clerk smiled faintly, and yet, said Scrooge, you don't think me ill used when I pay a day's wages for no work. The clerk observed that it was only once a year.

21:54A poor excuse for picking a man's pocket every 25th of December, said Scrooge, buttoning his great coat to the chin. But I suppose you must have the whole day. Be here all the earlier, next morning. The clerk promised that he would, and Scrooge walked out with a growl. The office was closed in a twinkling, and the clerk, with the long ends of his white comforter dangling below his waist, for he boasted no great coat, went down a slide on Cornhill at the end of a lane of boys twenty times, in honor of its being Christmas Eve, and then ran home to Camdentown as hard as he could pelt, to play at Blindman's buff. Scrooge took his melancholy dinner in his usual melancholy tavern, and having read all the newspapers, and beguiled the rest of the evening with his bankers' book, went home

22:56to bed. He lived in chambers which had once belonged to his deceased partner. They were a gloomy suite of rooms in a lowering pile of building up a yard, where it had so little business to be, that one could scarcely help fanciing it must have run there when it was a young house, playing at hide and seek with other houses, and forgotten the way out again. It was old enough now and dreary enough, for nobody lived in it but Scrooge, the other rooms being all let out as offices. The yard was so dark that even Scrooge, who knew it's every stone, was feigned to grope with his hands. The fog and frost so hung about the black old gateway of the house that it seemed as if the genius of the weather sat in mournful meditation on the threshold. Now it is a fact that there was nothing at all particular about the knocker on the door,

23:57except that it was very large. It was also a fact that Scrooge had seen it's night and morning during his whole residence in that place. Also that Scrooge had as little of what is called fancy about him as any man in the city of London, even including, which is a bold word, the corporation Alderman and Levery. That had also be bored in mind that Scrooge had not bestowed one thought on Marley since his last mention of his seven-year-old dead partner that afternoon. And then let any man explain to me, if he can, how it happened that Scrooge, having his key in the lock of the door, saw in the knocker without its undergoing any intermediate process of change, not a knocker, but Marley's face. Marley's face. It was not an impenetrable shadow, as the other objects of the yard were, but had a dismal

25:02light about it, like a bad lobster in a dark cellar. It was not angry or ferocious, but looked at Scrooge as Marley used to look, with ghostly spectacles turned up on his ghostly forehead. The hair was curiously third, as if by breath or hot hair, and though the eyes were wide open, they were perfectly motionless. That and its vivid color made it horrible, but its horror seemed to be in spite of the face and beyond its control, rather than a part of its own expression. As Scrooge looked fixantly at this phenomenon, it was a knocker again. To say that he was not startled, or that his blood was not conscious of a terrible sensation to which it had been a stranger from infancy, would be untrue. But he put his hand upon the key he had relinquished, turned it sturdily, walked in, and lighted

26:04his candle. He did pause, with a moment's irresolution before he shot the door, and he did look cautiously behind it first, as if he half expected to be terrified with the sight of Marley's pig-dail sticking out into the hall, but there was nothing on the back of the door except the Scrooge and nuts that held the knocker on. So he said, Pooh-pooh, and closed it with a bang. The sound resounded through the house like thunder, every room above, and every cask in the wine-merchant-sellers below, appeared to have a separate peel of echoes of its own. Scrooge was not a man to be frightened by echoes. He fastened the door and walked across the hall and up the stairs, slowly, too, trimming his candle as he went. You may talk vaguely about driving a coach in six up a good old flight of stairs, or through

27:07a bad young act of parliament, but I mean to say you might have got a hearse up that staircase and taken it broadwise, with a splinter bar towards the wall and the door towards the balistrades, and done it easy. There was plenty of width for that, and room to spare, which is perhaps the reason why Scrooge thought he saw a locomotive-hers going on before him in the gloom. Half a dozen gas lamps out of the street wouldn't have lighted the entry too well, so you may suppose that it was pretty dark with Scrooge's dip. Rob Scrooge went, not carrying a button for that. Darkness is cheap, and Scrooge liked it. But before he shot his heavy door, he walked through his rooms to see that all was right. He had just enough recollection of the face to desire to do that. Setting room, bedroom, lumber room, all as they should be.

28:10Nobody under the table, nobody under the sofa, a small fire in the grate, spoon and basin ready, and a little saucepan of gruel, Scrooge had a coal in his head, upon the hob. Nobody under the bed, nobody in the closet, nobody in his dressing-gain, which was hanging up in a suspicious attitude against the wall. lumber room as usual, old fire-guard, old shoes, two fish baskets, washing stand on three legs and a poker. Quite satisfied he closed his door, and locked himself in, double locked himself in, which was not his custom. Thus secured against surprise a took off his crobat, put on his dressing gown and slippers in his night cap, and sat down before the fire to take his gruel. It was a very low fire indeed, nothing on such a bitter night.

29:11He was obliged to sit close to it and brood over it before he could extract the least sensation of warmth from such a handful a few. The fireplace was an old one, built by some Dutch merchant long ago, and paved all round with quaint Dutch tiles, designed to illustrate the scriptures. There were canes and ables, fairer's daughters, queens of Sheba, and jellic messengers descending through the air on clouds like featherbeds, Abraham's bell-shazards, apostles pulling off to sea and butterboats, hundreds of figures to attract his thoughts. And yet that face of Marley, seven years dead, came like the ancient prophets rod and swallowed up the hole. If each smooth tile had been a blank at first, with power to shape some picture on its surface from the disjointed fragments of his thoughts, there would have been a copy of old Marley's

30:13head on everyone. Hambag, sense carriage, and walked across the room. To several turns he sat down again. As he threw his head back in the chair, his glance happened to rest upon a bell, a disused bell that hung in the room and communicated for some purpose now forgotten, with a chamber in the highest story of the building. It was with great astonishment, and with a strange inexplicable dread, that as he looked he saw this bell begin to swing. It swung so softly in the outset that it scarcely made a sound. But soon it rang out loudly, and so did every bell in the house. This might have lasted half a minute or a minute, but it seemed an hour. The bells ceased as they had begun, together.

31:14They were succeeded by a clanking noise, deep down below, as if some person were dragging a heavy chain over the casks in the wine-merchant's cellar. Scrooge then remembered to have heard that ghosts in haunted houses were described as dragging chains. The cellar door flew open with a booming sound, and then he heard the noise much louder for the floors below. Then coming up the stairs, then coming straight towards his door. "'Ah, it's humbuck still,' said Scrooge. "'I won't believe it!' His colour changed, though, when, without a pause, it came on through the heavy door, and passed into the room before his eyes. On its coming end, the dying flame leaped up, as though it cried, I know him! Marley's ghost!'

32:16And fell again. The same face. The very same. Marley in his pig tail, usual waistcoat, tights and boots. The tassels on the latter bristling, like his pig tail in his coat-skirts, and the hair upon his head. The chain he drew was clasped about his middle. It was long, and wound about him like a tail, and it was made, for Scrooge observed it closely, of cash boxes, keys, padlocks, ledgers, deeds, and heavy purses, rot in steel. His body was transparent, so that Scrooge, observing him and looking through his waistcoat, would see the two buttons on his coat behind. Scrooge had often heard it said that Marley had no bowels, but he had never believed it until now. No, nor did he believe it even now.

33:17Though he looked the fandom through and through, and saw it standing before him, though he felt the chilling influence of its death-cold eyes, and marked the very texture of the folded curchefe bound about its head and chin, which Rapperie had not observed before, he was still incredulous and fought against his senses. Oh, now, said Scrooge, caustic and cold as ever, what do you want with me? March! Marley's voice, no doubt about it. Who are you? Ask me who I was. Who were you then? Said Scrooge, brazing his voice. York particular for a shade? He was going to say, too, a shade, but substituted this, as more appropriate. In life I was your partner, Jacob Marley.

34:18Can you sit down? Ask Scrooge, looking doubtfully at him. I can. Do it then. Scrooge asked the question because he didn't know whether a ghost so transparent might find himself in a condition to take a chair, and felt that in the event of its being impossible, it might involve the necessity of an embarrassing explanation. But the ghost sat down on the opposite side of the fireplace as if he were quite used to it. You don't believe in me. Observe the ghost. I don't, said Scrooge. What evidence would you have of my reality beyond that of your senses? I don't know, said Scrooge. Why do you doubt your senses? Because, said Scrooge, a little thing affects them.

35:20A slight disorder of a stomach makes them cheats. Scrooge may be an undigested bit of beef. A blood-a-mustard, a crum of cheese, a fragment of an undidone potato. There's more of gravy than of grave about you, whatever you are. Scrooge was not much in the habit of cracking jokes, nor did he feel in his heart by any means waggish then. The truth is that he tried to be smart, as a means of distracting his own attention, and keeping down his terror, for the specter's voice disturbed the very marrow in his bones. To sit, staring at those fixed glazed eyes in silence for a moment, would play Scrooge felt the very deuce with him. There was something very awful, too, in the specter's being provided with an infernal atmosphere of its own. Scrooge could not feel it himself, but this was clearly the case.

36:24For though the ghosts sat perfectly motionless, its hair and skirts and tassels were still agitated, as by the hot vapor from an oven. "'You see this toothpick,' said Scrooge, returning quickly to the charge, with a reason just assigned, and wishing, though it were only for a second, to divert the vision's stony gaze from himself. "'I do,' replied the ghost. "'You are not looking at it,' said Scrooge. "'But I see it,' said the ghost, notwithstanding. "'Well,' returned Scrooge. "'I have but to swallow this, and be for the rest of my days persecuted by a legion of goblins, all of my own creation. "'Humbug,' I tell you, "'Humbug!' At this the spirit raised a frightful cry, and shook its chain with such a dismal and appalling noise that Scrooge held on tight to his chair to save himself from falling in

37:30a swoon. But how much greater was his horror when the phantom taking off the bandage round its head, as if it were too warm to wear indoors, its lower jaw dropped down upon its breast. Scrooge fell upon his knees, and clasped his hands before his face. "'Massie,' he said. "'Dreadful apparition! Why do you trouble me?' "'Man of the worldly mind,' replied the ghost. "'Do you believe in me or not? "'I do,' said Scrooge. "'I must! But why do spirits walk the earth, and why do they come to me?' "'It is required of every man,' the ghost returned, that the spirit with her name should walk abroad among his fellow men, and travel far and wide.

38:31And if that spirit goes not forth in life, it is condemned to do so after death. It is doomed to wander through the world. "'Woe is me! And witness what it cannot share, but might have shared on earth and turned to happiness." "'Again the specter raised the cry, and shook its chain and rung its shadowy hands. "'You are fat-ed,' said Scrooge, trembling. "'Tell me why. "'I wear the chain I forged in life,' replied the ghost. "'I made it, link by link and yard by yard. I girded it on of my own free will. "'But of my own free will I wore it. Is it pattern strange to you?'

39:32Scrooge trembled more and more. "'Or would you know,' pursued the ghost, "'the weight and length of the strong coil you bear yourself?' It was full as heavy and long as this seven Christmas Eve's ago. You have labored on it since. It is a ponderous chain.' Scrooge glanced about him on the floor in the expectation of finding himself surrounded by some fifty or sixty fathoms of iron cable. But he could see nothing. "'Chake up,' he said, imploringly. "'Old Jacob, Marty! Tell me more. Speak comfort to me, Jacob.' "'I have none to give,' the ghost replied. It comes from other regions of an asus, Scrooge, and is conveyed by other ministers to

40:33other kinds of men. "'Nor can I tell you what I would. A very little more is permitted to me. I cannot rest. I cannot say. I cannot linger anywhere. My spirit never walked beyond our counting hours. Mark me. In life, my spirit never roved beyond the narrow limits of our money-changing whole and weary journeys lie before me. It was a habit with Scrooge, whenever he became thoughtful, to put his hands in his breach his pockets. Pondering on what the ghost had said, he did so now, but without lifting up his eyes or getting off his knees. He must have been very slow about it, Jacob. Scrooge observed in a business-like manner, though with humility and deference. Slow the ghost repeated.

41:35Seven years dead, mused Scrooge, and traveling all the time. The whole time said the ghost. No rest, no peace, incessant torture of remorse. "'You travel fast,' said Scrooge. On the wings of the wind replied the ghost. You might have got over a great quantity of ground in seven years,' said Scrooge. The ghost, on hearing this, set up another cry, and clanked its chain so hideously in the dead silence of the night that the ward would have been justified in inditing it for a nuisance. "'Oh, captive, bound, and double ironed,' cried the phantom. Not to know that ages of incessant labor by immortal creatures for this earth must pass into eternity for the good of which it is susceptible is all developed.

42:40Not to know that any Christian spirit working kindly in its little sphere, whatever it may be, will find its mortal life too short for its vast means of usefulness. Not to know that no space of regret can make amends for one life's opportunity misused. "'That's such was I. Oh, such was I.' But you were always a good man of business, Jacob,' faltered Scrooge, who now began to apply this to himself. "'Business,' cried the ghost, ringing its hands again. "'Man kind was my business. The common welfare was my business. Charity, mercy for parents and benevolence were all my business.

43:40The dealings of my trade were about a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business. It held up its chain at arm's length as if that were the cause of all its unavailing grief and flung it heavily upon the ground again. "'At this time of the rolling year,' the specter said, "'I suffer most.' Why did I walk through the crowds of fellow beings with my eyes turned down and never raised them to that blessed star which led the wise man to a poor abode, where there no poor homes to which its light would have conducted me?' Scrooge was very dismayed to hear the specter go on at this rate and began to quick exceedingly. "'Hear me,' cried the ghost.

44:42"'My time is nearly gone.' "'I will,' said Scrooge. "'But don't be hard upon me. Don't be flowery,' Jacob, pray how it is that I appear before you in a shape that you can see I may not tell. I have sat invisible beside you many and many a day. It was not an agreeable idea. Scrooge shivered and wiped the perspiration from his brow. "'That is no light part of my penance,' pursued the ghost. "'I am here tonight to warn you that you have yet a chance and hope of escaping my fate. A chance and hope of my procuring, Abanesa. You are always a good friend to me,' said Scrooge. "'Thinky.'

45:43"'You will be on dead,' resumed the ghost, by three spirits. Scrooge's countenance fell. Almost as low as the ghosts had done. Is that the chance and hope you mentioned, Jacob?' It demanded in a faltering voice. "'It is.' "'I think I'd rather not,' said Scrooge. "'Without their visits,' said the ghost, "'you cannot hope to shun the path I tread.' Expect the first tomorrow when the bell tolls won. Couldn't I take them all at once and have it over, Jacob?' hinted Scrooge. Expect the second on the next night at the same hour. The third upon the next night, when the last stroke of twelve has ceased to vibrate. Look to see me no more, and look that for your own sake,

46:47you'll remember what has passed between us. When it had said these words, the specter took its wrapper from the table and bound it round its head as before. Scrooge knew this by the smart sound its teeth made, when the jaws were brought together by the bandage. He ventured to raise his eyes again, and found his supernatural visitor confronting him in an erect attitude, with its chain wound over and about its arm. The operation walked backward from him, and at every step it took the window raised itself a little, so that when the specter reached it, it was wide open. It backened Scrooge to approach which he did. When they were within two paces of each other, Marley's ghost held up its hand, warning him to come no nearer. Scrooge stopped. Not so much in obedience, as in surprise and fear.

47:52For on the raising of the hand he became sensible of confused noises in the air, in coherent sounds of lamentation and regret, wailing inexpressibly sorrowful and self-accusatory. The specter, after listening for a moment, joined in the mournful durgh and floated out upon the bleak dark night. Scrooge followed to the window, desperate in his curiosity. He looked out. The air was filled with phantoms, wandering hither and thither in restless haste, and moaning as they went. Every one of them wore chains like Marley's ghost. Some few, it might be of guilty governments, were linked together. None were free. Many had been personally known to Scrooge in their lives. He had been quite familiar with one old ghost, in a white waistcoat with a monstrous iron safe attached to his ankle,

48:55who cried pitiously at being unable to assist a wretched woman with an infant, whom it saw below upon a doorstep. The misery with them all was clearly that they sought to interfere for good in human matters, and had lost the power forever. Whether these creatures faded into mist or mist and shrouded them, he could not tell. But they and their spirit voices faded together, and the night became as it had been when he walked home. Scrooge closed the window and examined the door by which the ghost had entered. It was double locked as he had locked it with his own hands, and the boats were undisturbed. He tried to say, I'm bugged, but stopped at the first syllable. And being from the emotion he had undergone, or the fatigues of the day, or his glimpse of the invisible world,

49:59or the dull conversation of the ghost, or the lateness of the hour, much need of repose, went straight to bed without undressing, and fell asleep upon the instant. And of Stave One. Stave Two. The first of the three spirits. It was Grooge a woke. It was so dark that looking out of bed he could scarcely distinguish the transparent window from the opaque walls of his chamber. He was endeavoring to pierce the darkness with his ferritized when the chimes of a neighboring church struck the four quarters. So he listened for the hour. To his great astonishment, the heavy bell went on from six to seven, and from seven to eight, and regularly up to twelve, then stopped. Twelve. It was past two when he went to bed.

51:00The clock was wrong. An icicle must have gone into the works. Twelve. He touched the spring of his repeater to correct this most preposterous clock. Its rapid little pulse beat twelve, and stopped. Why, it isn't possible, St. Grooge, that I can have slept through a whole day and far into another night. It isn't possible that anything has happened to the sun, and this is twelve at noon. The idea being an alarming one, he scrambled out of bed and groaked his way to the window. He was obliged to rub the frost off with the sleeve of his dressing-gown before he could see anything, and could see very little then. All he could make out was that it was still very foggy and extremely cold, and that there was no noise of people running to and fro and making a great stir, as their unquestionably would have been if night had beaten off bright day and taken possession of the world.

52:07This was a great relief, because three days after sight of the first of exchange paid to Mr. Ebony to Scrooge or his order, and so forth would have become a mere United States security if there were no days to count by. Scrooge went to bed again and thought, and thought it over and over and over, and could make nothing of it. The more he thought, the more perplexed he was, than the more he endeavored not to think, the more he thought. Marley's ghost bothered him exceedingly. Every time he resolved within himself, after mature inquiry, that it was all a dream, his mind flew back again, like a strong string released, to its first position, and presented the same problem to be worked all through. Was it a dream or not? Scrooge lay in this state until the chime had gone three-quarters more,

53:10when he remembered, on a sudden, that the ghost had warned him of a visitation when the bell told one. He resolved to lie awake until the hour was passed, and, considering that he could no more go to sleep than go to heaven, this was perhaps the wisest resolution in his power. The quarter was so long that he was more than once convinced he must have sucked into a dose unconsciously and missed the clock. At length it broke upon his listening ear. Ding dong. A quarter passed, said Scrooge counting. Ding dong. Half past, said Scrooge. Ding dong. A quarter to it, said Scrooge. Ding dong. The hour itself, said Scrooge triumphantly, and nothing else. He spoke before the hour bell sounded,

54:12which it now did with a deep dull hollow melancholy one. Light flashed up in the room upon the instant, and the curtains of his bed were drawn. The curtains of his bed were drawn aside, I tell you, by a hand. Not the curtains at his feet, nor the curtains at his back, but those to which his face was addressed. The curtains of his bed were drawn aside, and Scrooge, starting up into a half-recombund attitude, found himself face to face with the unearthly visitor who drew them. I's close to it as I am not to you, and I am standing in the spirit at your elbow. It was a strange figure, like a child, yet not so like a child as like an old man, viewed through some supernatural medium, which gave him the appearance of having receded from the view,

55:13and being diminished to a child's proportions. Its hair, which hung about its neck and down its back, was white as if with age, and yet the face had not a wrinkle in it, and the tenderest bloom was on the skin. The arms were very long and muscular. The hands the same as if its hold were of uncommon strength. Its legs and feet, most delicately formed, were like those upper members bare. It wore a tunic of the purest white, and round its waist was bound a lustrous belt, the sheen of which was beautiful. It held a branch of fresh green holly in its hand, and in singular contradiction of that wintry emblem had its dress trimmed with summer flowers. But the strangest thing about it was that from the crown of its head there sprang a bright, clear jet of light

56:13by which all this was visible, and which was doubtless the occasion of its using, in its dollar-moments, a great extinguisher for a cap, which had now held under its arm. Even this, though, when Scroge looked at it with increasing steadiness, was not its strangest quality. For as its belt sparkled and glittered now in one part and now in another, and what was light one instant another time was dark, so the figure itself fluctuated in its distinctness. Being now a thing with one arm, and now with one leg, now with twenty legs, now a pair of legs without a head, now a head without a body, of which dissolving parts no outline would be visible in the dense gloom or in-day melted away. And in the very wonder of this, it would be itself again distinct and clear as ever.

57:14Are you the spirit, sir, whose coming was foretold to me? Ask Scroge. I am. The voice was soft and gentle, singularly low as if instead of being so close beside him, it were at a distance. Who and what are you? Scroge demanded. I am the ghost of Christmas past. Long past? Inquired Scroge, observant of its dwarfish stature. Now, your past. Perhaps Scroge could not have told anybody why, if anybody could have asked him, but he had a special desire to see the spirit in his cap and begged him to be covered. What? exclaimed the ghost. Would you so soon put out with worldly hands the light I give?

58:15Is it not enough that you are one of those whose passions made this cap and forced me through whole trains of years to wear it low upon my brow? Scroge reverently disclaimed all intention to offend or any knowledge of having willfully bonneted the spirit at any period of his life, a then-made bull to inquire what business brought him there. Your welfare, said the ghost. Scroge expressed himself much obliged, but could not help thinking that a knight of unbroken rest would have been more conducive to that end. The spirit must have heard him thinking, for it said immediately, your reclamation, then. Take heed. It put out its strong hand as it spoke and clasped him gently by the arm. Rise and walk with me.

59:18It would have been in vain for Scroge to plead that the weather and the hour were not adapted to pedestrian purposes, that bed was worn and the thermometer a long way below freezing, that he was clad but lightly in his slippers dressing gown and nightcap, and that he had a cold upon him at the time. The grasp, though gentle as a woman's hand, was not to be resistant. He rose, but finding that the spirit made towards the window clasp his robe in supplication. I am a mortal, Scroge demonstrated, and liable to fall. Bear but a touch of my hand, there, said the spirit, laying it upon his heart, and you shall be upheld in more than this. As the words were spoken, they passed through the wall, and stood upon an open country road with fields on either hand. The city had entirely vanished, not a vestige of it was to be seen.

1:00:23The darkness and the mist had vanished with it, for it was a clear cold winter day, with snow upon the ground. Good heaven!" said Scroge, clasping his hands together as he looked about him. I was bred in this place! I was a boy here! The spirit gazed upon him mildly. Its gentle touch, though it had been light and instantaneous, appeared still present to the old man's sense of feeling. He was conscious of a thousand odors floating in the air. Each one connected with a thousand thoughts and hopes and joys and cares long, long forgotten. "'Your lip is trembling,' said the ghost. "'And what is that upon your cheek?' Scroge muttered with an unusual catching in his voice, that it was a pimple, and begged the ghost to lead him where he would.

1:01:24You recollect the way, inquired the spirit. Remember it,' cried Scroge with fervor, "'I could walk it blindfold! Stranged to have forgotten it for so many years,' observed the ghost. Let us go on." They walked along the road, Scroge recognizing every gate and post and tree, until a little market town appeared in the distance, with its bridge, its church, and winding river. Some shaggy ponies now were seen trotting towards them with boys upon their backs, who called to other boys in country gigs and carts, driven by farmers. All these boys were in great spirits and shouted to each other, until the broad fields were so full of merry music that the crisp air laughed to hear it. "'These are but shadows of the things that have been,' said the ghost, "'they have no consciousness of us.'

1:02:28The jocke and travellers came on, and as they came Scroge knew and named them, everyone. Why was he rejoiced beyond all bounds to see them? Why did his cold eye glisten and his heart leap up as they went past? Why was he filled with gladness when he heard them give each other merry Christmas as they parted at crossroads and byways for their several homes? What was merry Christmas to Scroge? Now to pardon merry Christmas. What good had it ever done to him? "'The school is not quite deserted,' said the ghost, a solitary child neglected by his friends, is left there still.' Scroge said he knew it, and he sobbed. They left the high road by a well-remembered lane and soon approached a mangeon of dull red brick

1:03:33with a little weather-cock-seymotted coupler on the roof and a bell hanging in it. It was a large house, but one of broken fortunes, for the spacious officers were little used, their walls were damp and mossy, their windows broken, and their gates decayed. Fowls clucked and strutted in the stables, and the coach-houses and sheds were overrun with grass. Nor was it more attentive of its ancient state within. For entering the dreary hall and glancing through the open doors of many rooms, they found them poorly furnished, cold and vast. There was an earthly savor in the air, but chilly bareness in the place, which associated itself somehow with too much getting up by candlelight, but not too much to eat. They went, the ghost and Scrooge, across the hall to a door at the back of the house.

1:04:34It opened before them and disclosed a long bare melon-colly room, made bearer still by lines of plain-deal forms and desks. At one of these a lonely boy was reading near a feeble fire, and Scrooge sat down upon a form and wept to see his poor forgotten city. Not a latent echo in the house, not a squeak and scuffle from the mice behind the paneling, not a drip from the half-thawed water-spout in the dolyard behind, not a sigh among the leafless boughs of one despondent poplar, not of the idle swinging of an empty-store-house door. No, not a clicking in the fire, but fell upon the heart of Scrooge with a softening influence, gave it a freeer passage to his tears. The spirit touched him on his arm and pointed to his younger self, intent upon his reading.

1:05:39Suddenly, a man in foreign garments, wonderfully real and distinct to look at, stood outside the window, with an axe stuck in his belt and leading by the bridle and ass, laden with wood. Why, it's Ali Baba! Scrooge exclaimed an ecstasy. It's their old honest Ali Baba! Yes, yes I know! Oh, one Christmas time, when Yanda's solitary child was left here all alone, he did come for the first time, just like that poor boy. And valentine, since Scrooge and his wild brother Orson, there they go, and, oh, what's his name? Who has put down in his drawers a sleep at the gate of Damascus? Don't you see him? And the sultans groom turned upside down by the genie. Oh, there he is upon his head! Serve him right! The aim, glad of it! What business had he to be married to the princess?

1:06:46To hear Scrooge expending all the urnestus of his nature on such objects in a most extraordinary voice between laughing and crying, and to see his heightened and excited face, but have been a surprise to his business friends in the city indeed. Oh, there's the parrot, Cried Scrooge, green body and yellow tail with a thing like a lettuce growing out of the top of his head. Oh, there he is. Poor Robin Cruso, he called him when he came home again after sailing around the island. Poor Robin Cruso, where have you been, Robin Cruso? The man thought he was dreaming, but he wasn't. It was the parrot, you know? Oh, there goes Friday, running for his life to the little creek. Hello, hoop, hello! Then with a rapidity of transition very foreign to his usual character, he said, in pity for his former self, poor boy, and cried again.

1:07:55I wish Scrooge muttered, putting his hand in his pocket and looking about him after drying his eyes with his cough. But it's too late now. What is the matter? Ask the spirit. Oh, nothing, said Scrooge, nothing. There was a boy singing a Christmas cowl at my door last night. I should like to have given him something. That's all. The ghost smiled thoughtfully, and waved his hand, saying it as he did so. Let us see another Christmas. Scrooge's former self grew larger at the words, and the room became a little darker and more dirty. The panels shrunk, the windows cracked, fragments of plaster fell out of the ceiling, and the naked lads were shown instead. But how all this was brought about, Scrooge knew no more than you do. He only knew that it was quite correct, that everything had happened so, that there he was, alone again, when all the other boys had gone home with the jolly holidays.

1:09:11He was not reading now, but walking, mopping down, despairingly. Scrooge looked at the ghosts, and with a mournful shaking of his head, clandest anxiously towards the door. Be it opened, and a little girl, much younger than the boy, came darting in and putting her arms about his neck, and often kissing him, addressed him as her, who did dear brother? I have come to bring you home dear brother, said the child, clapping her tiny hands and bending down to laugh, to bring you home, home, home, home, home, little fan, return the boy. Yes, said the child, brim full of glee, home, for good and all, home, forever and ever. Father is so much kinder than he used to be, that homes like heaven. He spoke so gently to me one day night when I was going to bed, that I was not afraid to ask him once more if you might come home,

1:10:19and he said yes, you should, and sent me in a coach to bring you, and you're to be a man, said the child opening her eyes, and I never to come back here, but first, where to be together all that Christmas long, and have the merriest time in all the world. You are quite a woman, little fan, exclaim the boy. She clapped her hands and laughed and tried to touch his head, but being too little laughed again and stood on tiptoe to embrace him. Then she began to drag him in her childish eagerness towards the door, and he, nothing loath to go, accompanied her. A terrible voice in the hall cried, bring down Master Scrooge's box there. And in the hall appeared the schoolmaster himself, who glared on Master Scrooge with a ferocious condescension and threw him into a dreadful state of mind by shaking hands with him.

1:11:25He then conveyed him and his sister into the various old well of a shivering best-ponder that ever was seen, where the maps upon the wall and the celestial and terrestrial globes in the windows were waxy with cold. Here he produced a decanter of curiously light wine and a block of curiously heavy cake and administered installments of these dainty's to the young people. At the same time sending out a meager servant to offer a glass of something to the post-boy, who answered that he thanked the gentleman, but if it was the same tap as he had tasted before, he would rather not. Master Scrooge's trunk, being by this time tied onto the top of the shears, the children bad the schoolmaster goodbye right willingly, and getting into it, drove gale down the garden sweep, the quick wheels dashing the whore frost and snow from off the dark leaves of the evergreens like spray.

1:12:28Always a delicate creature whom a breath might have withered, said the ghost, but she had a large heart. So she had cried Scrooge, you're right, I will not gain say it spirits, God forbid. She died a woman, said the ghost, and had as I think children. One child, Scrooge returned. True, said the ghost, your nephew. Scrooge seemed uneasy in his mind, and answered briefly, yes. Although they had but that moment left the school behind them, they were now in the busy thoroughfares of a city, where shadowy passengers passed and repast, where shadowy carts and coaches battled for their way, and all the strife and tumult of a real city were. It was made plain enough by the dressing of the shops that here too it was Christmas time again, but it was evening, and the streets were lighted up.

1:13:38The ghost stopped at a certain warehouse door, and asked Scrooge if he knew it. No, it, said Scrooge, or was I a printist here? They went in. At sight of an old gentleman in a Welsh wig, sitting behind such a high desk that if he had been two inches taller he must have knocked his head against the ceiling, Scrooge cried in great excitement. Why? It's old, fuzzy wig. Bless his heart, it's fuzzy wig, alive again. Old, fuzzy wig laid down his pen and looked up at the clock, which pointed to the hour of seven. He rubbed his hands, adjusted his capacious waistcoat, laughed all over himself from his shoes to his organ of benevolence, and called out in a comfortable, oily, rich, fat, jovial voice. Yo, there, and beneath a dick! Scrooge's former self, now grown a young man, came briskly in accompanied by his fellow printists.

1:14:45Dick Wilkins, to be sure, said Scrooge to the ghost. Bless me, yes, there he is, he was very much attached to me, was dick, poor dick. Dear, dear. Yo, ho, my boys, said fuzzy wig. No more work tonight. Christmas eve, dick? Christmas saboniser, let's have the shutters up, cried old, fuzzy wig, with a sharp clap of his hands, before a man can say Jack Robinson. You wouldn't believe how these two fellows went at it. They charged into the street with the shutters. One, two, three, had them up in their places, four, five, six, barred them and pinned them, seven, eight, nine, and came back before you could have got to twelve, panting-like resources. Hilly ho, cried old, fuzzy wig, skipping down from the high desk with wonderful agility.

1:15:45Clear away, my lads, and let's have a lots of room here. Hilly ho, dick! Chirp, aboniser. Clear away. There was nothing they wouldn't have cleared away, or couldn't have cleared away, with old, fuzzy wig looking on. It was done in a minute. Every movable was packed off, as if it were dismissed from public life forever more. The floor was swept and watered, the lamps were trimmed, fuel was heaped upon the fire, and the warehouse was as snug and warm and dry and bright a ballroom, as you would desire to see upon a winter's night. In came a fiddler with a music book, and went up to the lofty desk and made an orchestra of it, and tuned like fifty stomachaches. In came Mrs. Fessiewig, one vast substantial smile. In came the three Miss Fessiewigs, beaming and lovable.

1:16:45In came the six young followers whose hearts they broke. In came all the young man and women employed in the business. In came the housemaid, with her cousin the baker. In came the cook, with her brother's particular friend the milkman. In came the boy from over the way, who was suspected of not having bored enough from his master. Tried to hide himself behind the girl from the next door, but one, who was proved to have had her ears pulled by her mistress. In they all came, one after another, some shyly, some boldly, some gracefully, some awkwardly, some pushing, some pulling. In they all came anyhow and everywhere. The way they all went, twenty couple at once, hands half-round and back again the other way. Down the middle and up again, round and round in various stages of affectionate grouping. Old top couple always turning up in the wrong place. New top couple starting off again, as soon as they got there.

1:17:49All top couples at last, but not a bottom one to help them. When this result was brought about, old Fessiewig clapping his hands to stop the dance, cried out, well done! And the fiddler plunged his hot face into a pot of porter, especially provided for that purpose. But scorning rest upon his reappearance he instantly began again, though there were no dancers yet, as if the other fiddler had been carried home, exhausted on a shutter, and he were a brand new man resolved to beat him out of sight or perish. There were more dances, and there were forfits, and more dances, and there was cake, and there was neggus, and there was a great piece of cold roast, and there was a great piece of cold boiled, and there were minced pies and plenty of beer. But the great effects of the evening came after the roast and boiled, when the fiddler, an artful dog-mind,

1:18:52the sort of man who knew his business better than you or I could have told it him, struck up, surrogid, decouverly. Then old Fessie Wigg stood out to dance with Mrs. Fessie Wigg, top-coupled to, with a good stiff piece of work cut out for them, three or four or twenty parapartners, people who would dance and had no notion of walking. But if they had been twice as many, ah, four times, old Fessie Wigg would have been a match for them, and so would Mrs. Fessie Wigg, as to her she was worthy to be his partner in every sense of the term. If that's not high praise, tell me higher, and I'll use it. A positive light appeared to issue from Fessie Wigg's calves, they shone in every part of the dance like moons. You couldn't have predicted at any given time what would have become of them next, and when old Fessie Wigg and Mrs. Fessie Wigg

1:19:55got all through the dance, advance and retire, both hands to your partner, bow and cutsy, corkscrew, thread the needle and back again to your place, Pessie Wigg cut, cut so deathly that he appeared to wink with his legs and came upon his feet again without a stagger. When the clock struck eleven, the domestic ball broke up. Mr. and Mrs. Fessie Wigg took their station, one on either side of the door, and shaking hands with every person individually as he or she went out, wished him or her a merry Christmas. When everybody had retired but the two apprentices, they did the same to them, and thus the cheerful voices died away, and the lads were left to their beds, which were under a counter in the back shop. During the whole of this time, Scrooge had acted like a man out of his wits, his heart and soul were in the scene, and with his former self.

1:20:57He corroborated everything, remembered everything, enjoyed everything, and underwent the strangest agitation. It was not until now when the bright faces of his former self had dick returned from them, that he remembered the ghost and became conscious that it was looking fall upon him, while the light upon its head burnt very clear. A small matter, said the ghost, to make these silly folks so full of gratitude. Small, I call Scrooge. The spirit signed to him to listen to the two apprentices, who were pouring out their hearts in praise of Fessie Wigg, and when he had done so said, why, is it not? He has spent about a few pounds of your mortal money, three or four perhaps. Is that so much that he deserves this praise? But isn't that, Scrooge, heated by the remark and speaking unconsciously like his former, not his latter self?

1:22:00It isn't that spirit, he has the power to render us happy or unhappy, to make our service lights or burdensome, a pleasure or a toil. Say that his power lies in words and looks, in things so slight and insignificant that it is impossible to add and count them up, what then? The happiness he gives is quite as great as if it cost a fortune. He felt the spirit's glance and stopped. What is the matter? Ask the ghost. Nothing particular, said Scrooge. Something, I think, the ghost insisted. Now, said Scrooge. Now, I should like to be able to say a word or two to my clerk, just now. That's all. His former self turned down the lamps as he gave utterance to the wish and Scrooge and the ghost again stood side by side in the open air.

1:23:03My time grows short, observe the spirit. Quick! This was not addressed to Scrooge or to anyone he could see, but it produced an immediate effect. For again Scrooge saw himself. He was older now, a man in the prime of life. His face had not the harsh and rigid lines of later years, but it had begun to wear the signs of care and averace. There was an eager, greedy, restless motion in the eye, which showed the passion that had taken root, and where the shadow of the growing tree would fall. He was not alone, but sat by the side of a fair young girl in a morning dress, in whose eyes there were tears, which sparkled in the light that shone out of the ghost of Christmas past. It matters little, she said, softly. To you very little. Another idol has displaced me, and if it can share and comfort you in time to come, as I would have tried to do, I have no just caused a grieve.

1:24:15What idol has displaced you, he rejoined. A golden one. This is the even-handed dealing of the world, he said. There is nothing on which it is so hard as poverty, and there is nothing it professes to condemn with such severity as the pursuit of wealth. You fear the world too much, she answered gently. All your other hopes have merged into the hope of being beyond the chance of its sorted reproach. I have seen your nobler aspirations fall off, one by one, until the master-passion gain and grosses you. Have I not? What then? He retorted. Even if I have grown so much wiser, what then? I have not changed towards you. She shook her hand. Am I? Our contract is an old one. It was made when we were both poor and content to be so, until in good season we could improve our worldly fortune by our patient industry.

1:25:26You are changed. When it was made you were another man. I was a boy, he said impatiently. Your own feeling tells you that you were not what you are, she returned. I am. That which promised happiness when we were one in heart is fraught with misery now that we are two. How often and how keenly I have thought of this, I will not say. It is enough that I have thought of it and can release you. Have I ever sought release? In words? No. Never. Or in what then? In a changed nature, in an altered spirit, in another atmosphere of life, another hope as its great end. In everything that made my love of any worth or value in your sight. If this had never been between us, said the girl looking mildly, but with steadiness upon him, tell me,

1:26:33what do you seek me out and try to win me now? Ah, no. He seemed to yield to the justice of this supposition in spite of himself, but he said with a struggle, you think not. I would gladly think otherwise if I could, she answered. Heaven knows, when I have learned a truth like this, I know how strong and irresistible it must be. But if you were free today, tomorrow, yesterday, can even I believe that you would choose a dowalous girl, you who in your very confidence with her, by paying everything by gain, or choosing her, if for a moment you were false enough to your own guiding principle to do so, do I not know that your repentance and regret would surely follow? I do. And I release you, with a fall heart for the love of him you once were.

1:27:40He was about to speak, but with her head turned from him, she resumed. You may, the memory of what has passed half makes me hope you will, have pain in this, a very, very brief time, and you will dismiss the recollection of it gladly, as an unprofitable dream from which it happened well that you awoke. May you be happy in the life you have chosen, she left him and they parted. Spirit, sense cruege, show me no more. Conduct me home. Why do you delight to torture me? One shadow more. Exclaim the ghost. No more, cried cruege. No more. I don't wish to see it. Show me no more. But the relentless ghost pinnioned him in both his arms and forced him to observe what happened next.

1:28:46They were in another scene in place, a room, not very large or handsome, but full of comfort. Near to the winter fire set a beautiful young girl, so like that last that scruge believed it was the same, until he saw her, now a comely matron sitting opposite her daughter. The noise in this room was perfectly tumultuous, while there were more children there than scruge in his agitated state of mind could count. And unlike the celebrated herd in the poem, they were not forty children conducting themselves like one, but every child was conducting itself like forty. The consequences were uproarious beyond belief, but no one seemed to care. On the contrary, the mother and daughter laughed heartily and enjoyed it very much, and the latter, soon beginning to mingle in the sports, got pillaged by the young brigands most ruthlessly. What would I not have given to be one of them, though I never could have been so rude? No, no.

1:29:50I wouldn't for the wealth of all the world have crushed that braided hair and torn it down, and for the precious little shoe I wouldn't have plucked it off, God bless my soul to save my life. As to measuring her waist in sport, as they did, bold young brood, I couldn't have done it. I should have expected my arm to have grown rounded for a punishment and never come straight again. And yet I should have dearly liked, I own, to have touched her lips, to have questioned her, that she might have opened them, to have looked upon the lashes of my downcast eyes, and never raised a blush. To have let loose waves of hair, an inch of which would be a keepsake beyond price, in shorts I should have liked, I do confess, to have had the lightest license of a child, and yet to have been man enough to know its value.

1:30:52But now unknocking at the door was heard, when such a rush immediately ensued, that with laughing face and plunder dress was born towards it the center of a flushed and boisterous group, just in time to greet the father, who came home attended by a man laden with Christmas toys and presents. Then the shouting and the struggling, and the onslaught that was made on the defenseless porter, the scaling him with chairs for ladders to dive into his pockets, dispoil him of brown paper parcels, hold on tight by his crevettes, hulk him round his neck, pommel his back, and kick his legs in irrepressible affection. The shouts of wonder and delight, with which the development of every package was received, the terrible announcement that the baby had been taken in the act of putting a doll's frying pan into his mouth, and was more than suspected of having swallowed a fictitious turkey, glued on a wooden platter.

1:31:53The immense relief of finding this a false alarm, the joy and gratitude and ecstasy, they are all indescribable alike. It is enough that by degrees the children and their emotions got out of the ponder, and by one stare at a time up to the top of the house, where they went to bed and so subsided. And now Scrooge looked on more attentively than ever, when the master of the house, having his daughter leaning fondly on him, sat down with her and her mother at his own fireside. And when he thought that such another creature, quite as graceful and as full a promise, might have called him, father, and been a springtime in the haggard winter of his life, his sight grew very dim indeed. Bell, said the husband, turning to his wife with a smile, I saw an old friend of yours this afternoon. Who was it? Who guess?

1:32:57Well, how can I? I don't know. She added in the same breath, laughing as he laughed. Mr. Scrooge. Mr. Scrooge, it was! I passed his office window, and as it was not shut up, and he had a candle inside, I could scarcely help seeing him. His partner lies upon the point of death, I hear, and there he sat alone, quite alone in the world, I do believe. Spirit, said Scrooge in a broken voice, remove me from this place. I told you these were shadows of the things that have been, said the ghost, that they are what they are, do not blame me. Remove me, Scrooge exclaimed. I cannot bear it. He turned upon the ghost, and seeing that it looked upon him with a face in which, in some strange way, there were fragments of all the faces it had shown him, wrestled with it.

1:34:03Leave me, take me back. Haunt me no longer. In the struggle, if that can be called a struggle, in which the ghost, with no visible resistance on its own part, was undisturbed by any effort of its adversary, Scrooge observed that its light was burning high and bright, and dimly connecting that with its influence over him, he seized the extinguisher cap, and by a sudden action, pressed it down upon its head. The spirit dropped beneath it, so that the extinguisher covered its whole form, but though Scrooge pressed it down with all his force, he could not hide the light, which strained from under it in an unbroken flood upon the ground. He was conscious of being exhausted and overcome by an irresistible drowsiness and further of being in his own bedroom. He gave the cap a parting squeeze, in which his hand relaxed, and had barely time to reel to bed before he sank into a heavy sleep.

1:35:14End of Stave II. Stave III. The Second of the Three Spirits. Awakening in the middle of a prodigiously tough snore, and sitting up in bed to get his thoughts together, Scrooge had no occasion to be told that the bell was again upon the stroke of one. He felt that he was restored to consciousness in the right nick of time for the a special purpose of holding a conference with the Second Messenger dispatched to him through Jacob Marley's intervention. But finding that he turned uncomfortably cold when he began to wonder which of his curtains this new specter would draw back, he put them every one aside with his own hands, and lying down again, established a sharp look at all around the bed. He wished to challenge the spirit on the moment of its appearance, and did not wish to be taken by surprise and made nervous.

1:36:16Gentlemen of the free and easy sort, who plume themselves are being acquainted with a move or two, and being usually equal to the time of day, express the wide range of their capacity for adventure by observing that they are good for anything from pitch and toss to manslaughter. Between which opposite extremes no doubt delies a tolerably wide and comprehensive range of subjects. Without venturing for Scrooge quite as hardly as this, I don't mind calling on you to believe that he was ready for a good broad field of strange appearances, and that nothing between a baby and a rhinoceros would have astonished him very much. Now, being prepared for almost anything, he was not by any means prepared for nothing. And consequently, when the bell struck one and no shape appeared, he was taken with a violent fit of trembling.

1:37:16Five minutes, ten minutes, a quarter of an hour went by, yet nothing came. All this time he lay upon his bed, the very core and center of a blaze of ready light, which streamed upon it when the clock proclaimed the hour, and which, being only light, was more alarming than a dozen ghosts, as he was powerless to make out what it meant or would be at, and, by sometimes apprehensive, that he might be at that very moment an interesting case of spontaneous combustion. Without having the consolation of knowing it. At last, however, he began to think, as you and I would have thought at first, for it is always the person not in the predicament who knows what ought to have been done in it, and would unquestionably have done it too. At last, I say, he began to think that the source and secret of this ghostly light might be in the adjoining room.

1:38:16From whence, on further tracing it, it seemed to shine. This idea, taking full possession of his mind, he got up softly and shuffled in his slippers to the door. The moment Scrooge's hand was on the lock, a strange voice called him by his name and bat him enter. He obeyed. It was his own room. There was no doubt about that, but it had undergone a surprising transformation. The walls and ceiling were so hung with living green that it looked like a perfect grove from every part of which bright, gleaming berries glistened. The crisp leaves of holly, mistletoe, and ivy reflected back the light, as if so many little mirrors had been scattered there, and such a mighty blaze went rolling up the chimney, as that dull petrification of a hearth had never known in Scrooge's time, or Marlies, or for many and many a winter season gone.

1:39:20Heaped up on the floor to form a kind of throne, where Turkey's geese, game, poultry, brawn, great joints of meat, sucking pigs, long rees of sausages. Minced pies, plum pudding, barrels of oysters, red hot chestnuts, cherry-cheeked apples, juicy oranges, not as pears, immense twelfth cakes, and seething bowls of punch that made the chamber dim with their delicious steam. An easy state upon this couch, there sat a jolly giant, glorious to-see, who bore a glowing torch in shape not unlike plenty's horn, and held it up, by-up to shed its light on Scrooge, as he came peeping round the door. Come in, exclaim the ghost, come in and know me better, man! Scrooge entered timidly and hung his head before this spirit.

1:40:28He was not the dogged Scrooge he had been, and though the spirit's eyes were clear and kind, he did not like to meet them. "'I am the ghost of Christmas present,' said the spirit. Look upon me!' Scrooge reverently did so. It was clothed in one simple green robe or mantle, bordered with white fur. This garment hung so loosely on the figure that its capacious breast was bare, as if distating to be warded or concealed by any art of his. Its feet, observable beneath the ample folds of the garment, were also bare, and on its head it wore no other covering than a holly wreath sat here and there with shining icicles. Its dark brown curls were long and free, free as its genial face, its sparkling eye, its open hand, its cheery voice, its unconstrained demeanor, and its joyful air.

1:41:33Gurded round its middle was an antique scabbard, but no sword was in it, and the ancient sheath was eaten up with rust. "'You have never seen the length of me before,' exclaimed the spirit. Never,' Scrooge made answer to it. "'I've never walked forth with the younger members of my family, meaning, for I am very young, my elder brothers born in these later years,' pursued the phantom. "'I don't think I have,' said Scrooge. "'I am afraid I have not. Have you had many brothers, spirit?' "'More than 1800,' said the ghost. "'Oh, a tremendous family to provide for,' murdered Scrooge. The ghost of Christmas present rose.' "'Spirit?' said Scrooge, submissively. Conduct me where you will.'

1:42:35"'I went forth last night on compulsion, and I learned some lesson which is working now. Tonight, if you have ought to teach me, let me profit by it.' "'Touch my robe,' Scrooge did as he was told and held it fast. "'Holly, mistletoe, red berries, ivy, turkeys, geese, game-pultery, brawn, meat, pigs, sausages, oysters, pies, puddings, fruit, and punch, all vanished instantly. So did the room, the fire, the bloody glow, the hour of night, and they stood in the city-street on Christmas morning. Where, for the weather was severe, the people made a rough but brisk and not unpleasant kind of music, in scraping the snow from the pavement in front of their dwellings, and from the tops of their houses,

1:43:35once it was mad delight to the boys to see it come plumping down into the road below, and splitting into artificial little snowstorms. The house-fronts looked black enough, and the windows blacker contrasting with a smooth white sheet of snow upon the roofs, and with the dirtier snow upon the ground, which last abuzz it had been plowed up in deep furrows by the heavy wheels of carts and wagons, furrows that crossed and re-crossed each other hundreds of times, where the great streets branched off and made intricate channels, hard to trace in mothic yellow and icy water. The sky was gloomy, and the shortest streets were choked up with a dingy mist, half thawed, half frozen, whose heavier particles descended in a shower of sunny atoms, as if all the chimneys in Great Britain had, by one consent, caught fire, and were blazing away to their dear-harts content.

1:44:36There is nothing very cheerful in the climate or the town, and yet there was an air of cheerfulness abroad that the clearest summer air and the brightest summer sun might have endeavored to diffuse in vain. For the people who were shoveling away on the housetops were jovial and full of glee, calling out to one another from the parapets, but now in then exchanging a facetious snowball, better-natured missile-file than many a word-idjust, laughing heartily if it went right, but not less heartily if it went wrong. The polterer's shops were still half-open, and the fruiterers were radiant in their glory. There were great round pot-bellied baskets of chestnuts, shaped like the wastecoats of Jolly Old Gentlemen, lolling at the doors and tumbling out into the street in their apoplectic opulence. There were ruddy, brown-faced, broad-gurth, Spanish onions, shining in the fatness of their growth like Spanish friars, and winking from their shelves in wanton slinest of the girls as they went by and glanced immuily at the hung-up mistletoe.

1:45:50There were pears and apples clustered high in blooming pyramids. There were bunches of grapes, made in the shopkeeper's benevolence, to dangle from conspicuous hooks that people's mouths might water gratis as they passed. There were piles of filberts, mossy and brown, recalling in their fragrance ancient walks among the woods and pleasant shufflings ankle deep through withered leaves. There were Norfolk biffons, squat and swarthy, setting off the yellow of the oranges and lemons, and in the great compactness of their juicy persons urgently and treating and besieging to be carried home in paper bags and eaten after dinner. The very gold and silver fish set forth among these choice-fruits in a bowl, though members of a dull and stagnant blooded race, appeared to know that there was something going on, and to a fish went gasping round and round their little world in slow and passionless excitement.

1:46:55The grocers. Oh, the grocers! Nearly closed, with perhaps two shutters down, or one, but through these gaps such glimpses. It was not alone that the scales descending on the counter made a merry sound, or that the twine and roller-parted companies so briskly, or that the canisters were rattled up and down like juggling tricks, or even that the blended sense of tea and coffee were so good. The canisters were so great for the nose, or even that the raisins were so plentiful and rare, the almonds so extremely white, the sticks of cinnamon so long and straight, the other spices so delicious, the candied fruits so caked and spotted with molten sugar, as to make the coldest lookers on a fiel faint, and subsequently, billious. It was it that the figs were moist and pulpy, or that the French plums blushed in modest tartness from their highly decorated boxes, or that everything was good to eat and in its Christmas dress.

1:48:04But the customers were also hurried and so eager in their hopeful promise of the day, that they tumbled up against each other at the door, crashing their wicker baskets wildly, and left their purchases upon the counter and came running back to fetch them, and committed hundreds of like mistakes in the best tumour possible. While the grocer and his people were so frank and fresh that the polished hearts with which they fastened their aprons behind might have been their own, one outside for general inspection, and for Christmas doors to peck at, if they chose. But soon the steeples called good people all to church and chapel, and away they came, flocking through the streets in their best clothes and with their gaiished faces, and at the same time they emerged from scores of by-street lanes and nameless turnings innumerable people, carrying their dinners to the beggar's shops. The sight of these poor revelers appeared to interest the spirit very much, for he stood with scrooge beside him in a baker's doorway, and taking off the covers as their bearers passed, sprinkled incense on their dinners from his torch.

1:49:18And it was a very uncommon kind of torch, for once or twice when there were angry words between some dinner carriers who had jostled each other, he shed a few drops of water on them from it, and their good humour was restored directly. For they said it was a shame to crawl upon Christmas Day, and so it was. God loved it, so it was. In time the bells ceased, and the bakers were shot up, and yet there was a genial shadowing forth of all these dinners and the progress of their cooking in the thawed blotch of wet above each baker's oven, where the pavement smoked as if its stones were cooking too. Is there a peculiar flavour than what you sprinkle from your torch? Asked scrooge. There is, my own. Would it apply to any kind of dinner on this day? Asked scrooge. To any kindly given, to a poor one most.

1:50:24Why to a poor one most? Asked scrooge. Because it needs it most. Spirit. Said scrooge, after a moment's thought. I wonder you, of all the beings in the many worlds about us, should desire to cramp these people's opportunities of innocent enjoyment. I cried the spirit. You would deprive them of their means of dining every seventh day, often the only day on which they can be said to dine at all. Or, said scrooge. Wouldn't you? I cried the spirit. You seek to close these places on the seventh day, said scrooge. And it comes to the same thing. I seek, exclaim the spirit. Forgive me if I am wrong. It has been done in your name, or at least in that of your family, said scrooge.

1:51:24There are some upon this earth of yours, returned the spirit, who lay claim to know us, and who do their deeds of passion pride ill-will, hatred, envy, bigotry, and selfishness in our name, who are as strange to us in all our kith and kin as if they had never lived. Remember that, and charge their doings on themselves, not us. Scrooge promised that he would, and they went on invisible as they had been before, into the suburbs of the town. It was a remarkable quality of the ghost, which Scrooge had observed at the bakers, that notwithstanding his gigantic size, he could accommodate himself to any place with ease, and that he stood beneath a low roof quite as gracefully, and, like a supernatural creature, as it was possible he could have done in any lofty hall.

1:52:24And perhaps it was the pleasure the good spirit had in showing off this power of his, or else it was his own kind, generous-hearted nature, and his sympathy with all poor men, that led him straight to Scrooge's clerks. For there he went, and took Scrooge with him, holding to his robe, and on the threshold of the door the spirit smiled, and stopped to bless Bob Cratchett's dwelling with the sprinkling of his torch. Think of that, Bob had fifteen Bob a week himself. He pocketed on Saturdays but fifteen copies of his Christian name, and yet the ghost of Christmas present blessed his four rooms. Then uproes Mrs. Cratchett, Cratchett's wife, dressed out but poorly in a twice turned gown, but brave in ribbons, which are cheap and make a goodly show for six pints, and she laid the cloth, assisted by Belinda Cratchett, second of her daughters, also brave in ribbons.

1:53:32While Master Peter Cratchett plunged a fork into the saucepan of potatoes, and getting the corners of his monstrous shirt collar, Bob's private property conferred upon his son and heir in honor of the day, into his mouth, rejoiced to find himself so gallantly attired, and yearned to show his linen in the fashionable parks. And now two smaller Cratchett's boy and girl came tearing in, screaming that outside the bakers they had smelt the goose, and known it for their own, and basking in luxurious thoughts of sage and onion, these young Cratchett's danced about the table, and exalted Master Peter Cratchett to the skies. While he, not proud, although his collar's nearly choked him, blew the fire until the slow potatoes bubbling up, not loudly at the saucepan leed to be let out and peeled. What has ever got your precious father, then, said Mrs. Cratchett, and your brother, tiny Tim, and Martha, weren't as late last Christmas day by half an hour.

1:54:44Here's Martha, Martha, said a girl, appearing as she spoke. Here's Martha, Mother, cry the two young Cratchett's, hurrah, there's such a goose, Martha! My bless, your heart alive, my dear, how late you are, said Mrs. Cratchett, kissing her a dozen times and taking off her shawl and bonnet for her with officious zeal. Weed a deal of work to finish our last night, replied the girl, and had to clear away this morning, Mother. Well, never mind so long as you were a come, said Mrs. Cratchett, set ye down before the fire, my dear, and have a warm, Lord bless ye. No, no, there's Father coming! Cry the two young Cratchett's, who were everywhere at once, high, Martha, hide! So Martha hid herself, and in came little Bob the Father, with at least three feet of comforter, exclusive of the fringe, hanging down before him, and his thread-bear clothes dined up and brushed to look seasonable, and tiny Tim upon his shoulder.

1:55:54Alas, for tiny Tim, he bore a little crutch, and had his limbs supported by an iron frame. Why, where's our Martha? cried Bob Cratchett, looking around. Not coming, said Mrs. Cratchett. Not coming, said Bob, with a sudden declension in his high spirits, for he had been Tim's blood horse all the way from church, and had come home rampant. Not coming upon Christmas Day. Martha didn't like to see him disappointed, if it were only in joke, so she came out prematurely from behind the closet door and ran into his arms, while the two young Cratchett's hustle-tiny Tim and bore him off into the wash-house, that he might hear the pudding singing in the copper. And how did little Tim behave, said Mrs. Cratchett, when she had rallied Bob on his credulity, and Bob had hugged his daughter to his heart's content?

1:56:57Oh, as good as gold, said Bob, and better! Somehow he gets thoughtful, sitting by himself so much, and things the strangest things you ever heard. He told me, coming home, that he hoped the people saw him in the church, because he was a cripple, and it might be pleasant to them to remember on Christmas Day. Who made the lame beggars walk, and blind men see? Bob's voice was tremulous when he told them this, and trembled more when he said that tiny Tim was growing strong and hearty. His active little Cratch was heard upon the floor, and back came tiny Tim before another word was spoken, as scorted by his brother and sister to his stool before the fire. And while Bob, turning up his coughs, as if poor fellow they were capable of being made more shabby, compounded some hot mixture in a jug with gin and lemons, and stirred it round and round and put it on the hob to simmer.

1:58:03Master Peter, and the two ubiquitous young Cratchits, went to fetch the goose, with which they soon returned in high procession. Such a bustle ensued that you might have thought a goose the rarest of all birds, a feathered phenomenon to which a black swan was a matter of course, and in truth it was something very like it in that house. Mrs. Cratchit made the gravy, ready beforehand, in a little saucepan hissing hot. Master Peter mashed the potatoes with incredible vigor. Mrs. Belinda sweetened up the apple sauce, Martha dusted the hot plates, Bob took tiny Tim beside him in a tiny corner at the table. The two young Cratchit set chairs for everybody, not forgetting themselves, and mounting guard upon their posts, crammed spoons into their mouths, lest they should shriek for goose before their time came to be helped. At last the dishes were set on, and grace was said.

1:59:06It was succeeded by a breathless pause, as Mrs. Cratchit, looking slowly all along the carving knife, prepared to plunge it in the breast. But when she did, and when the long expected gush of stuffing issued forth, one murmur of delight arose all round the board. An even tiny Tim, excited by the two young Cratchits, beat on the table with the handle of his knife and feebly cried, "'Hoorah!' There was never such a goose. Bob said he didn't believe that ever was such a goose cooked. Its tenderness and flavor, size, and cheapness were the themes of universal admiration. Eaked out by apple sauce and mashed potatoes, it was a sufficient dinner for the whole family. Indeed, as Mrs. Cratchit said with great delight, surveying one small atom of a bone upon the dish, they hadn't ate it all at last.

2:00:06Yet everyone had had enough, and the youngest Cratchits in particular were steeped in sage and onion to the eyebrows. But now the plates being changed by Miss Melinda, Mrs. Cratchit left the room alone, too nervous to bear witnesses, to take the punting up and bring it in. Suppose it should not be done enough, suppose it should break in turning out, suppose somebody should have got over the wall of the backyard and stolen it while they were married with the goose. The opposition at which the two young Cratchits became livened. All sorts of horrors were supposed. Hello, a great deal of steam. The punting was out of the copper. A smell like a washing day. That was the cloth. A smell like an eating house and a pastry cook's next door to each other, with a laundress's next door to that. That was the pudding.

2:01:06In half a minute Mrs. Cratchit entered, flushed but smiling proudly, with the pudding like a speckled cannonball, so hard and firm, blazing in half a half-a-half-a-quarter of ignited brandy, and bedite with Christmas holly stuck into the top. Oh, a wonderful pudding. Bob Cratchit said, and calmly, too, that he regarded it as the greatest success achieved by Mrs. Cratchit since their marriage. Mrs. Cratchit said, that now the weight was off her mind, she would confess that she had her doubts about the quantity of flour. Everybody had something to say about, but nobody said or thought it was at all a small pudding for a large family. It would have been flat, heresy to do so. Any Cratchit would have blushed to hint at such a thing. At last the dinner was all done. The cloth was cleared, the hearth swept, and the fire made up. The compound in the jug being tasted, and considered perfect, apples and oranges were put upon the table, and a shovelful of chestnuts on the fire.

2:02:19Then all the Cratchit family drew round the hearth in what Bob Cratchit called a circle, meaning half a one, and at Bob Cratchit's elbow stood the family display of glass, two tumblers and a custard cup without a handle. These held the hot stuff from the jug, however, as well as gold and goblets would have done, when Bob served it out with beaming looks, while the chestnuts on the fire spotted and cracked noisily. Then Bob proposed, a merry Christmas to us all my dears, God bless us, which all the family re-ecoed. God bless us, everyone," said Tiny Tim, the last of all. He sat very close to his father's side upon his little stool. Bob held his wither little hand in his, as if he loved the child, and wished to keep him by his side, and dreaded that he might be taken from him.

2:03:24"'Spirit,' said Scrooge, with an interest he had never felt before, tell me if Tiny Tim will live. "'I see a vacant seat,' replied the ghost, in the poor chimney corner, and a crutch without an owner, carefully preserved. If these shadows remain unaltered by the future, the child will die. "'No, no,' said Scrooge, no kind spirit, say he will be spared. If these shadows remain unaltered by the future, the another of my race,' returned the ghost, will find him here. "'What, then? If he be like to die, he had better do it, and decrease the surplus population!' Scrooge hung his head to hear his own words quoted by the Spirit, and was overcome with penitence and grief.

2:04:26"'Man,' said the ghost, "'if man you be in heart, not adamant, for better that wicked can't until you have discovered what the surplus is, and where it is. Will you decide what men shall live, what men shall die?' "'It may be that in the sight of heaven you are more worthless and less fit to live than millions like this poor man's child. Oh, God, to hear the insect on the leaf pronouncing on the too much life among his hungry brothers in the dust.' Scrooge bent before the ghosts rebuke and trembling cast his eyes upon the ground, but he raised them speedily on hearing his own name. "'Mr. Scrooge,' said Bob, I'll give you Mr. Scrooge, the founder of the feast. The founder of the feast indeed,' cried Mrs. Cratchett, reddening, "'I wish I had him here, I'd give him a piece of my mind to feast upon, and I'd hope he'd have a good appetite for it.'

2:05:42"'My dear,' said Bob, the children. Christmas day. It should be a Christmas day, I am sure,' said she, on which one drinks the health of such an odious, stingy, hard-unfeeling man as Mr. Scrooge. "'You know he is Robert, nobody knows it better than you do, poor fellow.' My dear,' was Bob's mild answer, Christmas day. "'I'll drink his health for your sake, and the days,' said Mrs. Cratchett, not for his. Long life to him, a merry Christmas and a happy new year, he'll be very merry and very happy, I have no doubt.' The children drank the toast after her. It was the first of their proceedings which had no heartiness. Tiny Tim drank it last of all, but he didn't care to upence for it. Scrooge was the ogre of the family. The mention of his name cast a dark shadow on the party, which was not dispelled for four, five minutes.

2:06:51After it had passed away, there were ten times merryer than before, from the mere relief of Scrooge the baleful being done with. Bob Cratchett told them how he had a situation in his eye for Master Peter, which would bring in, if obtained, full five and six months weekly. The two young Cratchett laughed tremendously at the idea of Peter's being a man of business, and Peter himself looked thoughtfully at the fire from between his collars, as if he were deliberating what particular investments he should favor when he came into the receipt of that bewildering income. Martha, who was a poor apprentice at a milleners, then told them what kind of work she had to do, and how many hours she worked at a stretch, and how she meant to lie a bed tomorrow morning for a good long rest. Tomorrow being a holiday, she passed at home. Also, how she had seen a countess and a lord some days before, and how the lord was much about his tallest Peter, at which Peter pulled up his collar so high,

2:08:00that you couldn't have seen his head if you had been there. All this time the chestnuts and the jug went round and round, and by and by they had a song about a lost child traveling in the snow from tiny Tim, who had a plaintive little voice, and sang it very well indeed. There was nothing of high mark in this, they were not a handsome family, they were not well dressed, their shoes were far from waterproof, their clothes were scanty, and Peter might have known, or very likely did, the inside of upon-brokers. But they were happy, grateful, pleased with one another, and contended with the time, and when they faded and looked happier yet in the bright springings of the spirit's torch at parting, Scrooge had his eye upon them, and especially on tiny Tim, until the last. By this time it was getting dark and snowing pretty heavily, and as Scrooge and the spirit went along the streets, the brightness of the roaring fires in kitchens, parlors, and all sorts of rooms was wonderful.

2:09:12Here the flickering of the blaze showed preparations for a cozy dinner, with hot plates baking through and through before the fire, and deep red curtains, ready to be drawn to shut out cold and darkness. There all the children of the house were running out into the snow to meet their married sisters, brothers, cousins, uncles, aunts, and be the first to greet them. Here again were shadows on the window blind of guests assembly, and there a group of handsome girls, all hooded and fur booted and all chattering at once, tripped lightly off to some near neighbor's house, where, woe upon the single man who saw them in the dark, a heartful witch's well they knew it, in a glow. But if you had judged from the numbers of people on their way to friendly gatherings, you might have thought that no one was at home to give them welcome when they got there, instead of every house expecting company and piling up its fires half chimney high.

2:10:16Blessings on its how the ghost exalted, how it bared its breadth of breasts and opened its capacious palm and floated on, out pouring with a generous hand its bright and harmless mirth on everything within its reach. The very lamp-lider who ran on before dotting the dusky street with specks of light, and who was dressed to spend the evening somewhere, laughed out loudly as the spirit passed, though little canned the lamp-lider that he had any company but Christmas. And now, without a word of warning from the ghost, they stood upon a bleak and desert mure, where monstrous masses of rude stone were cast about as though it were the burial place of giants, and water spread itself where so ever it listed, or would have done so, but for the frost that held it prisoner, and nothing grew but moss and furs, and coarse rank grass.

2:11:19Down in the west the settings on her left a streak of fiery red, which glared upon the desolation for an instant like a sullen eye, and frowning low, low, low, yet, was lost in a thick gloom of darkest night. What place is this, asked Scrooge, a place where miners live, who labor in the bowels of the earth, return the spirit, but they know me, see. A light shone from the window of a hut, and swiftly they advanced towards it. Passing through the wall of mud and stone, they found a cheerful company assembled round a glowing fire. An old, old man and woman, with their children and their children's children, and another generation beyond that, all decked out galey in their holiday attire. The old man, in a voice that seldom rose above the howling of the wind upon the barren waste, was singing them a Christmas song. It had been a very old song when he was a boy, and from time to time they all joined in the chorus.

2:12:31So surely as they raised their voices the old man got quite blind and loud, and so surely as they stopped his vigor sank again. The spirit did not tarry here, but bad Scrooge hold his robe, and passing on above the moor, sped, with her, not to see, to see. To Scrooge's horror, looking back, he saw the last of the land, a frightful range of rocks behind them, and his ears were deafened by the thundering of water, as it rolled and roared and raged among the dreadful caverns it had worn, and fiercely tried to undermine the earth. Built upon a dismal reef of sunken rocks, some league or so from shore, on which the waters chaffed a dash the wild year through, there stood a solitary lighthouse. Great heaps of seaweed clung to its base, and stormbirds, born of the wind one might suppose as seaweed of the water, rose and fell about it, like the waves they skimmed.

2:13:41But even here, two men who watched the light had made a fire, that through the loophole in the thick stone wall shed out a ray of brightness on the awful sea. Joining their horny hands over the rough table at which they sat, they wished each other merry Christmas in their can of Grooge. And one of them, the elder too, with his face all damaged and scarred with hard weather as the figurehead of an old ship might be, struck up a sturdy song that was like a gale in itself. Again the ghost sped on, above the black and heaving sea, on, on, until being far away, as he told Scrooge from any shore, they lighted on a ship. They stood beside the helmsman at the wheel, the lookout in the bow, the officers who had the watch. Dark ghostly figures in their several stations, but every man among them hummed a Christmas tune, or had a Christmas thought, or spoke below his breath to his companion of some bygone Christmas day, with homeward hopes belonging to it.

2:14:53And every man on board, waking or sleeping, good or bad, had had a kinder word for another on that day than on any day in the year, and had shared to some extent in its festivities, and had remembered those he cared for at a distance, and had known that they delighted to remember him. It was a great surprise to Scrooge, while listening to the moaning of the wind, and thinking what a solemn thing it was to move on through the lonely darkness, over an unknown abyss, whose depths were secrets as profound as death, it was a great surprise to Scrooge, while thus engaged, to hear a hearty laugh. It was a much greater surprise to Scrooge, to recognize it as his own nephews, and to find himself in a bright, dry, gleaming room, with a spirit standing smiling by his side, and looking at that same nephew with approving affability. Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! It's a laugh Scrooge's nephew. Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!

2:16:22When Scrooge's nephew laughed in his way, holding his sides, rolling his head, and twisting his face into the most extravagant contortions, Scrooge's niece, by marriage, laughed as heartily as he, and their assembled friends, being not a bit behind-hand, roared out lustily. Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! He said that Christmas was a humbug as I live! Cried Scrooge's nephew, he believed it, too! A more shame for him, Fred, said Scrooge's niece indignantly. Blast those women they never do anything by-haves, they are always in earnest. She was very pretty, exceedingly pretty, with a dimpled, surprised-looking capital face, a ripe little mouth that seemed made to be kissed, as no doubt it was, all kinds of good little dots about her chin that melted into one another when she laughed, and the sunniest pair of eyes you ever saw at any little creature's head.

2:17:36Altogether she was what you would have called provoking, you know, but satisfactory, too. Oh, perfectly, satisfactory. He's a comical old fellow, since Scrooge's nephew, that's the truth, they're not so pleasant as he might be. However, his offences carry their own punishment, and I have nothing to say against him. I'm sure he's very rich, Fred, hinted Scrooge's niece, at least you always tell me so. What of that, my dear? So Scrooge's nephew, his wealth is of no use to him, he don't do any good with it, he don't make himself comfortable with it, be as of the satisfaction of thinking, he's ever going to benefit us with it. I have no patience with him, observed Scrooge's niece. Scrooge's niece's sisters, and all the other ladies, expressed the same opinion. Oh, I have, said Scrooge's nephew, I am sorry for him, I couldn't be angry with him if I tried. Who suffers by his ill-wims? Himself always.

2:18:49Here he takes it into his head to dislike us and he won't come and dine with us. What's the consequence? May he don't lose much of a dinner. Indeed, I think he loses a very good dinner, interrupted Scrooge's niece. Everybody else said the same, and they must be allowed to have been competent judges, because they had just had dinner, and with the dessert upon the table were clustered round the fire by lamp light. Well, I'm very glad to hear it, said Scrooge's nephew, because I haven't great faith in these young housekeepers. What do you say, topper? Topper had clearly got his eye upon one of Scrooge's niece's sisters, for he answered that a bachelor was a wretched outcast, who had no right to express an opinion on the subject. Where at Scrooge's niece's sister, the plump one with a lace tucker, not the one with the roses, blushed.

2:19:51Do go on, Fred, said Scrooge's niece, clapping her hands. He never finishes what he begins to say, he is such a ridiculous fellow. Scrooge's nephew reveled in another laugh, and as it was impossible to keep the infection off, though the plump sister tried hard to do it with aromatic vinegar, his example was unanimously followed. I was only going to say, said Scrooge's nephew, that the consequence of his taking a dislike to us, and not making merry with us, is, I think, that he loses some pleasant moments which could do him no harm. I am sure he loses pleasant companions that he can find in his own thoughts, either in his moldy old office or his dusty chambers. I mean to give him the same chance every year, whether he likes it or not, for I pity him. He may rail at Christmas till he dies, but he can't help thinking better of it, I defy him, if he finds me going there in good temper year after year and saying, Uncle Scrooge, how are you?

2:21:04If it only puts him in the vein to leave his poor clerk fifty pounds, that's something, and I think I shook him yesterday. It was there turned to laugh now at the notion of his shaking Scrooge, but being thoroughly good-natured and not much caring what they laughed at so that they laughed at any rates, he encouraged them in their merriment and passed the bottle joyously. After tea they had some music, for they were a very musical family, and knew what they were about when they sang a glee or catch, I can assure you, especially topper, who would growl away in the base like a good one, and never swell the large vein to his forehead or get red in the face over it. Scrooge's knees played well upon the harp, and played among other tunes a simple little air, a mere nothing, you might learn to whistle it in two minutes, which had been familiar to the child who fetched Scrooge from the boarding school, as he had been reminded by the ghost of Christmas past.

2:22:11When this strain of music sounded, all the things that ghost had shown him came upon his mind. He s often, more and more, and thought that if he could have listened to it often, years ago, he might have cultivated the kindnesses of life for his own happiness, with his own hands, without resorting to the sextons spayed that buried Jacob Marley. But they didn't devote the whole evening to music. After a while they played at forfeits, for it is good to be children sometimes, and never better than Christmas, when its mighty founder was a child himself. Stop! There was first a game at Blindman's Bluff, of course there was, and I know more believe topper was really blind than I believe he had eyes in his boots. My opinion is that it was a done thing between him and Scrooge's nephew, and that the ghost of Christmas present knew it. The way he went after that plump sister in the lace tucker was an outrage on the quaduity of human nature.

2:23:19Knocking down the fire irons, tumbling over the chairs, bumping against the piano, smothering himself among the curtains, wherever she went, there went he. He always knew where the plump sister was. He wouldn't catch anybody else. If you had fallen up against him as some of them did, on purpose he would have made a faint of endeavouring to seize you, which would have been at a front to your understanding, and he would have instantly have cycled off in the direction of the plump sister. She often cried out that it wasn't fair, and it really was not. But when at last he caught her, when in spite of all her silken rustlings and her rapid flutterings passed him, he got her into a corner when there was no escape, then his conduct was the most exocrobial. For his pretending not to know her, his pretending that it was necessary to touch her headdress and further to assure himself of her identity by pressing a certain ring upon her finger, and a certain chain about her neck was vile, monstrous.

2:24:30No doubt she told him her opinion of it when another blind man being in office they were so very confidential together, behind the curtains. Scrooge's niece was not one of the blind man's buff party, but was made comfortable with a large chair and a footstool in a snug corner, where the ghost and scrooge were close behind her. But she joined in the forfeits and loved her love to admiration with all the letters of the alphabet. Likewise, at the game of how, when and where, she was very great, and of the secret joy of Scrooge's nephew beat her sister's hollow, though they were sharp girls too, as Topper could have told you. There might have been twenty people there, young and old, but they all played, and so did Scrooge. For only forgetting in the interest he had and what was going on that his voice made no sound in their ears, he sometimes came out with his guest quite loud, and very often guest quite right too.

2:25:36For the sharpest needle, best white chapel warranted not to cut in the eye, was not sharper than Scrooge, blunt as he took it in his head to be. The ghost was greatly pleased to find him in this mood, and looked upon him with such favor that he begged like a boy to be allowed to stay until the guest departed. But this, the spirit said, could not be done. Here is a new game, said Scrooge, oh, one half hour, spirit, only one! It was a game called Yes and No, where Scrooge's nephew had to think of something, and the rest must find out what. He only answered their questions, yes or no, as the case was. The brisk fire of questioning to which he was exposed elicited from him that he was thinking of an animal, a live animal, rather a disagreeable animal, a savage animal, an animal that growled and grunted sometimes and talked sometimes, and lived in London, and walked about the streets, and was it made a show of, and wasn't led by anybody, and didn't live in a menagerie, and was never killed in a market, and was

2:26:55not a horse, or an ass, or a cow, or a bull, or a tiger, or a dog, or a pig, or a cat, or a bear. At every fresh question that was put to him, this nephew burst into a fresh roar of laughter, and was so inexpressibly tickled that he was obliged to get up off the sofa and stamp. But last, the plump sister, falling into a similar state, cried out, ah, I have found it, I know what it is, Fred, I know what it is. What is it, cried Fred? It's your uncle Scrooge! Which it certainly was. Admiration was the universal sentiment, though some objected that to reply to, is it a bear, or to have been, yes. It as much as an answer in the negative was sufficient to have diverted their thoughts from Mr. Scrooge, supposing they had ever had any tendency that way.

2:28:00He has given us plenty of merriment, I am sure, said Fred, and it would be ungrateful not to drink his health. Here is a glass of mild wine ready to our hand at the moment, and I say, Uncle Scrooge! Well, Uncle Scrooge, they cried. A married Christmas and a happy New Year to the old man, whatever he is, said Scrooge's nephew, he wouldn't take it from me, but may he have it nevertheless. Uncle Scrooge! Uncle Scrooge had imperceptibly become so gay and light of heart that he would have pledged the unconscious company and return, and thank them in an inaudible speech, if ghosts had given him time. But the whole scene passed off in the breath of the last word spoken by his nephew, and he and the spirit would again, upon their travels. Much they saw, and far they went, and many homes they visited, but always with a happy end.

2:29:06The spirits stood beside sick bands, and they were cheerful, on foreign lands, and they were close at home, by struggling man, and they were patient in their greatest hope, by poverty, and it was rich. In Ohm's house, hospital, and jail, in miseries every refuge, where vain man and his little brief authority had not made fast the door and barred the spirit out, they left his blessing and taught Scrooge his precepts. It was a long night, if it were only a night, but Scrooge had his doth of this, because the Christmas holidays appeared to be condensed into the space of time they passed together. It was strange, too, that while Scrooge remained unaltered in his outward form, the ghosts grew older, clearly older. Scrooge had observed this change, but never spoke of it, until they left the children's twelfth night party. When, looking at the spirit as they stood together in an open place, he noticed that his hair was gray.

2:30:13Ah, spirit's lives so short, asked Scrooge. My life upon this globe is very brief," replied the ghost, with ends tonight. Tonight? Christ Scrooge. Tonight? At midnight. Hark! The time is drawing near. The chimes were ringing the three-quarters past eleven at that moment. Forgive me if I am not justified in what I ask, said Scrooge, looking intently at the spirit's robe, but I see something strange and not belonging to yourself protruding from your skirts. Is it a foot or a claw? It might be a claw for the flesh there is upon it, said the spirit's sorrowful reply. Look here! From the folding's of its robe it brought two children, wretched, abject, frightful, hideous, miserable.

2:31:18They knelt down at his feet and clung upon the outside of his gun. Oh, man, look here! Look, look, down here! Exclaimed the ghost. They were a boy and a girl, yellow, meager, ragged, scowling, wolfish, but prostrate too in their humility. Where graceful youth should have filled their features out and touched them with its freshest tints, a stale and shrivel hand, like that of age, had pinched and twisted them and pulled them into shreds. Where angels might have sat enthroned, devils lurked and glared out menacing. No change, no degradation, no perversion of humanity in any grade through all the mysteries of wonderful creation, has monsters half so horrible and dread.

2:32:19Scrooge started back, appalled, having them shown to him in this way he tried to say they were fine children, but the words choked themselves rather than be parties to a lie of such enormous magnitude. The spirit! Are they yours? Scrooge could say no more. They are mans! said the spirit, looking down upon them, and they cling to me, appealing from their fathers. This boy is ignorance. This girl is want. Beware them both, and all of their degree. But most of all, beware this boy. For on his brow I see that written which is doom, unless the writing be erased. Deneiet cried the spirit, stretching out his hand towards the city, slander those who tell it ye, admit it for your fachous purposes and make it worse, and bide the end.

2:33:33Have you no refuge or resource? cried Scrooge. Are there no prisons? said the spirit, turning on him for the last time with his own words, are there no workhouses? The bell struck twelve. Scrooge looked about him for the ghosts and saw it not. As the last stroke ceased to vibrate he remembered the prediction of old Jacob Marley, and lifting up his eyes beheld a solemn phantom draped and hooded, coming like a mist along the ground towards him. End of Stave III. Stave IV. The Last of the Spirits. The phantom slowly, gravely, citeredly approached. When it came near him Scrooge bent down upon his knee, for in the very air through which the spirit moved, it seemed to scatter gloom and mystery.

2:34:43It was shrouded in a deep black garment which concealed its head, its face, its form, and left nothing of it visible, save one outstretched hand. But for this it would have been difficult to detach its figure from the night and separate it from the darkness by which it was surrounded. He felt that it was tall and stately when it came beside him, and that its mysterious presence filled him with a solemn dread. He knew no more for the spirit neither spoke nor moved. My am in the presence of the Ghost of Christmas yet to come, said Scrooge. The spirit answered not, but pointed onward with its hand. You are about to show me shadows of the things that have not happened but will happen in the time before us, Scrooge pursued, is that so, Spirit? The upper portion of the garment was contracted for an instant in its folds as if the spirit had inclined its head. That was the only answer he received.

2:35:53Although well used to ghostly company by this time, Scrooge feared the silent shape so much that his legs trembled beneath him, and he found that he could hardly stand when he prepared to follow it. The spirit paused a moment as observing his condition and giving him time to recover. But Scrooge was all the worse for this. It thrilled him with a vague uncertain horror to know that behind that dusky shroud there were ghostly eyes intently fixed upon him, while he, though he stretched his own to the utmost, could see nothing but a spectral hand and one great heap of black. Ghost of the future, he exclaimed, I fear you are more than any specter I have seen, but as I know your purpose is to do me good, and as I hope to live to be another man from what I was, I am prepared to bear you company, and do it with a thankful heart.

2:36:58Will you not speak to me? It gave him no reply. The hand was pointed straight before them. Lead on, said Scrooge, lead on. The night is waning fast, and it is precious time to me, I know. Lead on, spirit. The phantom moved away as it had come towards him, Scrooge followed in the shadow of its dress, which bore him up, he thought, and carried him along. They scarcely seemed to enter the city, for the city rather seemed to spring up about them and encompass them as its own act, and there they were in the heart of it. On change amongst the merchants, who hurried up and down and chink the money in their pockets, and conversed in groups, and looked at their watches, and trifled thoughtfully with their great gold seals, and so forth, as Scrooge had seen them often.

2:38:01The spirit stopped beside one little knot of businessmen, observing that the hand was pointed to them, Scrooge advanced to listen to their talk. No, said a great fat man with a monstrous chin. I don't know much about it either way, by only no he's dead. When did he die? Inquired another. Last night, I believe. Why, what was the matter with him? Asked a third, taking a vast quantity of snuff out of a very large snuff box. I thought he'd never die. God knows, said the first, with a yarn. What has he done with his money? Asked a red-faced gentleman with a pendulous ex-acresence on the end of his nose that shook like the gills of a turkey cock. The eye haven't heard, said the man with a large chin yawning again, left it to his company, perhaps. He has left it to me. That's all I know. The pleasantry was received with a general laugh.

2:39:10But likely to be a very cheap funeral, said the same speaker. For upon my life I don't know of anybody to go to it, suppose we make up a party in volunteer. I don't mind going, if a lunch is provided. Observe the gentleman with the ex-acresence on his nose. But I must be fed, if I make one. Another laugh. Well, I am the most disinterested among you, after all, said the first speaker, for I never wear black gloves, but I never eat lunch. But I'll offer to go if anybody else will. When I come to think of it, I'm not at all sure that I wasn't his most particular friend. For we used to stop and speak whenever we met. Bye-bye. Speakers and listeners strode away and mixed with other groups. Scrooge knew the man and looked towards the spirit for an explanation. The phantom glided on into a street. His finger pointed to two persons meeting. Scrooge listened again, thinking that the explanation might lie here. He knew these men also perfectly. They were men of business, very wealthy and of great importance.

2:40:33He had made a point always of standing well in their esteem, in a business point of view, that is, strictly in a business point of view. How are you? said one. How are you? Returned the other. Well, said the first, old scratch has got his own at last day. So I am told, returned the second. Cold, isn't it? Seasonable for Christmas time? You're not a skater, I suppose. No, no. Something else to think of. Good morning. Not another word. That was their meeting, their conversation and their parting. Scrooge was at first inclined to be surprised that the spirit should attach importance to conversations apparently so trivial. But feeling assured that they must have some hidden purpose, he set himself to consider what it was likely to be. They would scarcely be supposed to have any bearing on the death of Jacob, his old partner, for that was passed.

2:41:37And this ghost's province was the future. Nor could he think of anyone immediately connected with himself to whom he could apply them. But nothing doubting that to whom so ever they applied they had some latent moral for his own improvement, he resolved to treasure up every word he heard, and everything he saw, and especially to observe the shadow of himself when it appeared. For he had an expectation that the conduct of his future self would give him the clue he missed, and would render the solution of these riddles easy. He looked about in that very place for his own image, but another man stood in his accustomed corner, and though the clock pointed to his usual time of day for being there, he saw no likeness of himself among the multitudes that poured in through the porch. That gave him little surprise, however, for he had been revolving in his mind a change of life, and thought and hoped he saw his newborn resolutions carried out in this.

2:42:45Quiet and dark beside him stood the phantom, with his outstretched hand. When he roused himself from his thoughtful quest, he fancied from the turn of the hand and its situation in reference to himself, that the unseen eyes were looking at him keenly. It made him shudder, and feel very old. They left the busy scene, and went into an obscure part of the town, where Scrooge had never penetrated before, although he recognized its situation and its bad repute. The ways were foul and narrow, the shops and houses wretched, the people half naked, drunken, slip-shod, ugly. Hallies and archways, like so many cesspools, disgorge their offences of smell and dirt and life upon the straggling streets, and the whole quarter reaked with crime, with filth and misery.

2:43:47Far in this den of infamous resort, there was a low-browed, beedling shop, below a penthouse roof, where iron-old rags, bottles, bones, and greasy awful were brought. Upon the floor within were piled up heaps of rusty keys, nails, chains, hinges, files, scales, weights, and refuse iron of all kinds. Secrets that few would like to scrutinize were bread and hidden in mountains of unseemly rags, masses of corrupted fat, and seppled cures of bones. Sitting in among the wares he dealt in, by a charcoal stove made of old bricks, was a grey-haired rascal nearly seventy years of age, who had screened himself from the cold air without, by a frowsy curtaining of miscellaneous tatters hung upon a line, and smoked his pie, been all the luxury of calm retirement.

2:44:50Scrooge and the phantom came into the presence of this man, just as a woman with a heavy bundle slunk into the shop, but she had scarcely entered when another woman, similarly laden, came in too, and she was closely followed by a man infated black, who was no less startled by the sight of them than they had seen. After a short period of blank astonishment, in which the old man with the pipe had joined them, they all three burst into a laugh. Let the char woman alone to be the first, cried she, who had entered first, let the laundress alone to be the second, and let the undertaker's man alone to be the third. Look here, old Joe, here's a chance, if we haven't all three met here without meaning it. You couldn't have met in a better place, said old Joe, removing his pipe from his mouth, come into the parlour. You were made free of it long ago, you know, and the other two ain't strangers.

2:46:03Stop, till I shut the door of the shop. Ah, how it screeches. The rate such a rust a bit of metal in the place as its own inges, I believe, and I'm sure there's no such old bones here as mine. We're all suitable to our calling, we're well matched. Come into the parlour. Come into the parlour. The parlour was the space between the screen of rags. The old man raked the fire together with an old stair-rod, and having trimmed his smoky lamp for it was night, with the stem of his pipe put it in his mouth again. While he did this, the woman who had already spoken through her bundle on the floor, and sat down in a flaunting manner on a stool, crossing her elbows on her knees, and looking with a bow defiance at the other two.

2:47:03Oh, what odd-stand, what odd-smist is Dilber? said the woman, every person has a right to take care of themselves, he always did. That's true indeed, said the laundress, no man more so. Why then, don't stand staring as if you were a frayed woman, who's the wiser? We're not going to pick holes in each other's coats, I suppose. Now, indeed, said Mrs. Dilber, and the man together, we should help not. Very well then, cried the woman, that's enough, hose the worse for the loss of a few things like these, not a dead man, I suppose. Now, indeed, said Mrs. Dilber. If he wanted to keep him after he was dead, a wicked old scroo pursued the woman, why wasn't he natural in his lifetime? If he had been, he'd have had somebody to look after him when he was struck with death, instead of lying gasping out his last there alone by himself.

2:48:12It's the truest word that ever was spoke, said Mrs. Dilber, it's a judgment on him. But, my wish he was a little heavier judgment, replied the woman, and it should have been, you may depend on it, if I could have laid my hands on anything else. Open that bundle, old Joe, and let me know the value of it. Speak out, plain, I'm not afraid to be the first, nor afraid for them to see it. We know pretty well that we were helping ourselves before we met here, I believe. It's no sin, open the bundle, Joe. But the gallantry of her friends would not allow of this, and the man infated black, mounting the breach first, produced his plunder. It was not extensive, a seal or two, a pencil case, a pair of sleeve buttons, and a brooch of no great value were all. They were severally examined and appraised by old Joe, who chalked the sums he was to the end.

2:49:15He chalked the sums he was disposed to give for each upon the wall, and added them up into a total when he found there was nothing more to come. That's your account, said Joe, and I wouldn't give another six pence if I was to be boiled for not doing it. Those next. Mrs. Dilbert was next. Sheets and towels, a little wearing a peril, two old-fashioned silver teespoons, a pair of sugar tongs and a few boots. Her account was stated on the wall in the same manner. I always give too much to ladies. It's a weakness of mine, and that's the way I ruin myself," said Old Joe. Bats your account. If he asked me for another penny and made it an open question, I'd repent to be in so liberal and knock off half a crown. And now undo my bundle, Joe," said the first woman. Joe went down on his knees for the greater convenience of opening it, and having unfastened a great many knots dragged out a large and heavy roll of some dark stuff.

2:50:25"'Ah, what do you call this?' said Joe. "'Bad curtains?' Ah!' returned the woman laughing and leaning forward on her crossed arms. "'Ha ha, bad curtains!' You don't mean to say a tuckum down rings and all with him lying there?' said Joe. "'Yes, I do,' replied the woman. "'Why not?' "'You were born to make your fortunes,' said Joe, and you'll certainly do it.' "'I certainly shan't hold my hand when I can get anything in it by reaching out. For the sake of such a man as he was, I promise you, Joe,' returned the woman coolly. "'Don't drop that oil upon the blankets now.' Is blankets?' asked Joe. "'Oh, I see, do you think,' replied the woman. "'He, he isn't lucky to take cold without my dare say.' "'I hope he didn't dive anything, catchin',' said Joe, stopping in his work and looking up.

2:51:32"'Don't you be afraid of that,' returned the woman. "'I ain't so fond of his company that I'd loiter about him for such doons if he did.' "'Ah, you may look through that shirt till your eyes ache, but you won't find a hole in it, nor a thread bare place. It's the bestie ad and a fine one, too. They'd have wasted it if it hadn't been for me.' "'What do you call wasting it?' asked old Joe. "'Ha, ho, putting it on him to be buried in, to be sure,' replied the woman with a laugh. Somebody was full enough to do it, but I took it off again. If Calico ain't good enough for such a purpose, it isn't good enough for anything. It's quite as becoming to the body. He can't look uglier than he did in that one.' Scrooge listened to this dialogue in horror. As they sat grouped about their spoil in the scanty light afforded by the old man's lamp, reviewed them with a detestation and disgust which could hardly have been greater, though they had been obscene demons marketing the corpse itself.

2:52:44"'Ha, ha, ha, ha!' laughed the same woman, when old Joe, producing a flannel bag with money and it told out their several gains upon the ground. "'This is the end of it, you see. He frightened everyone away from him when he was alive to profit us when he was dead.' "'Ha, ha, ha!' "'Spear it,' said Scrooge, shuddering from head to foot. I see. I see. The case of this unhappy man might be my own. My life tends that way now.' "'Mustiful heaven, what is this?' He recalled in terror for the scene had changed, and now he almost touched a bed, a bare uncurtained bed, on which beneath a racquet sheet there lay a something covered up, which, though it was dumb, announced itself in awful language.

2:53:47The room was very dark, too dark to be observed with any accuracy, though Scrooge glanced round it in obedience to a secret impulse, anxious to know what kind of room it was. A pale light rising in the outer air fell straight upon the bed, and on it, plundered and bereft, unwatched, unwept, uncared for, was the body of this man. Scrooge glanced towards the phantom, its steady hand was pointed to the head. The cover was so carelessly adjusted that the slightest raising of it, the motion of a finger upon Scrooge's part, would have disclosed the face. He thought of it, felt how easy it would be to do, and long to do it, but had no more power to withdraw the veil than to dismiss the specter at his side. O cold, cold, rigid, dreadful death, set up thine altar here, and dress it with such terrors as thou hast a thy command. For this is thy dominion.

2:54:58But of the love to revered and honored head thou canst not turn one hair to thy dread purposes, and make one feature odious. It is not that the hand is heavy and will fall down when released, it is not that the heart and pulse are still, but that the hand was open, generous and true. The heart brave warm and tender, and the pulse amans. Strike, shadow, strike, and see his good deeds springing from the wound to sow the world with life immortal. No voice pronounced these words in Scrooge's ears, and yet he heard them when he looked upon the bed. He thought if this man could be raised up now, what would be his foremost thoughts? Averis, hard-dealing, griping cares? They have brought him a rich am, truly. He lay in the dark, empty house, with not a man, a woman, or a child to say that he was kind to me in this or that, and for the memory of one kind word I will be kind to him.

2:56:10A cat was tearing at the door, and there was a sound of gnawing rats beneath the hearthstone. What they wanted in the room of death, and why they were so restless and disturbed, Scrooge did not dare to think. Spirit, he said, this is a fearful place, and leaving it I shall not leave its lesson. Trust me. Let us go. Still the ghost pointed with an unmoved finger to the hand. I understand you, Scrooge returned, and I would do it if I could, but I have not the power, spirit. I have not the power. Again it seemed to look upon him. If there is any person in the town who feels emotion caused by this man's death, said Scrooge quite agonized, show that person to me, Spirit. I besiege you.

2:57:12The phantom spread its dark robe before him for a moment like a wing, and with drawing it revealed a room by daylight, where a mother and her children were. She was expecting someone, and with anxious eagerness, for she walked up and down the room, started at every sound, looked out from the window, glanced at the clock, tried but in vain to work with her needle, and could hardly bear the voices of the children in their play. At length the long expected knock was heard. She hurried to the door and met her husband, a man whose face was care-worn and depressed, though he was young. There was a remarkable expression in it now, a kind of serious delight of which he felt ashamed, and which he struggled to repress. He sat down to the dinner that had been hoarding for him by the fire, and when she asked him faintly what news, which was not until after a long silence, he appeared embarrassed how to answer.

2:58:19Is it good, she said, or bad to help him? Bad, he answered. We are quite ruined? Now there is hope yet, Caroline. If he relents, she said, amazed, there is. Nothing is past hope if such a miracle has happened. He is past relenting, said her husband. He is dead. She was a mild and patient creature if her face broke truth, but she was thankful in her soul to hear it, when she said so with clasped hands. She prayed forgiveness the next moment, and was sorry, but the first was the emotion of her heart. What the half-drunken woman whom I told you of last night said to me, when I tried to see him and obtain a week's delay, and when I thought was a mere excuse to avoid me, turns out to have been quite true.

2:59:24He was not only very ill, but dying then. To whom will our debt be transferred? I don't know, but before that time we shall be ready with the money, and even though we were not, and be a bad fortune indeed to find so merciless or creditor in his successor, we may sleep tonight with light hearts, Caroline. Yes, soften it as they would, their hearts were lighter. The children's faces, hushed and clustered round to hear what they so little understood, were brighter, and it was a happier house for this man's death. The only emotion that the ghost would show him caused by the event was one of pleasure. Let me see some tenderness connected with a death, said Scrooge, or that dark chamber, spirit which we leave just now, will be forever present to me.

3:00:28The ghost conducted him through several streets familiar to his feet, and as they went along, Scrooge looked here and there to find himself, but nowhere was he to be seen. They entered poor Bob Cratchett's house, the dwelling he had visited before, and found the mother and the children seated round the fire. Quiet, very quiet. The noisy little Cratchets were as still as statues in one corner, and sat looking up at Peter, who had a book before him. The mother and her daughters were engaged in sowing, but surely they were very quiet. And he took a child and set him in the midst of them. Where had Scrooge heard these words? He had not dreamed them. The boy must have read them out as he in the spirit cross the threshold. Why did he not go on? The mother led her work upon the table and put her hand up to her face.

3:01:34The color hurts my eyes, she said. The color? Oh, poor tiny Tim. They're better now, again, said Cratchett's wife. It makes them weak by candlelight, and I wouldn't show weak eyes to your father when he comes home for the world. It must be near his time. Past it, rather, Peter answered, shutting up his book. But I think he has walked a little slower than he used these few last evening's mother. They were very quiet again. At last, she said, and in a steady, cheerful voice that only faltered once. I have known him walk with— I have known him walk with tiny Tim upon his shoulder, very fast indeed. And so have I, cried Peter, often. And so have I, explained another, so had all.

3:02:35But he was very light to carry, she resumed intent upon her work, and his father loved him, so it was no trouble, no trouble. Ah, and there is your father at the door. Check her eight hours to meet him. And little Bob, in his comforter, he had need of it, poor fellow, came in. His tea was ready for him on the hub, and they all tried who should help him to it most. Then the two young crutches got upon his knees and laid, each child a little cheek against his face, as if they said, don't mind it, father. Don't be grieved. Bob was very cheerful with them, and spoke pleasantly to all the family. He looked at the work upon the table, and praised the industry and speed of Mrs. Cratchett and the girls. They would be done long before Sunday, he said.

3:03:35Sunday, you want today, then, Robert, said his wife. Yes, my dear, returned Bob. I wish you could have gone. It would have done you good to see how green a place it is. But you'll see it often. I promised him that I would walk there on a Sunday. My little child, cried Bob. My little child. He broke down all at once. He couldn't help it. If he could have helped it, he and his child would have been further apart, perhaps, than they were. He left the room and went upstairs into the room above, which was lighted cheerfully and hung with Christmas. There was a chair set close beside the child, and there were signs of someone having been there lately. Poor Bob sat down in it, and when he had thought a little and composed himself, he kissed the little face. He was racking-siled to what had happened, and went down again quite happy.

3:04:46They drew about the fire and talked, the girls and mother working still. Bob told them of the extraordinary kindness of Mr. Scrooge's nephew, whom he had scarcely seen but once, and who, meeting him in the street that day, and seeing that he looked a little, just a little down, you know, said Bob, inquired what had happened to distress him. On which, said Bob, for he is the presentest spoken gentleman you ever heard, I told him. I am heartily sorry for it, Mr. Cratchett, he said, and heartily sorry for your good wife. By-to-by, how he ever knew that I don't know. New what, my dear? Why, that you were a good wife, replied Bob. Oh, everybody knows that, said Peter. Very well observed, my boy. Crried Bob, I hope they do. Heartily sorry, he said, for your good wife. If I can be of service to you in any way, he said, giving me his card, that's where I live. Pray come to me.

3:05:59Now, it wasn't, cried Bob, for the sake of anything he might be able to do for us so much as for his kind way that this was quite delightful. It really seemed as if he had known our tiny Tim and felt with us. I'm sure he's a good soul, said Mrs. Cratchett. You would be sure of it, my dear, returned Bob, if you saw and spoke to him. I shouldn't be at all surprised, Mark, what I say, if he got Peter a better situation. Only here that, Peter, said Mrs. Cratchett. And then, cried one of the girls, Peter will be keeping company with someone and setting up for himself. Get along with you, retorted Peter, grinning. It's just as likely as not, said Bob, one of these days, though there's plenty of time for that, my dear. But, however, and whenever we part from one another, I am sure we shall none of us forget Tiny Tim, shall we? Or this first parting that there was among us.

3:07:08Never, Father, cried they all. And I know, said Bob, I know, my dear, that when we recollect how patient and how mild he was, although he was a little, little child, we shall not quarrel easily among ourselves and forget poor Tiny Tim in doing it. No, never, Father, they all cried again. I am very happy, said little Bob. I am very happy. Mrs. Cratchett kissed him, his daughter's kissed him, the two young Cratchett's kissed him, and Peter and himself shook hands. Spirits of Tiny Tim, thy childish essence was from God. "'Spectre,' said Scrooge, something informs me that our parting moment is at hand. I know it, but I know not how. Tell me what man that was who we saw lying dead.'

3:08:15The ghost of Christmas yet to come conveyed him, as before, the what a different time he thought. Indeed, there seemed no order in these latter visions, say that they were in the future, into the resorts of businessmen, but showed him not himself. Indeed, the Spirit did not stay for anything, but went straight on as to the end just now desired until they sought by Scrooge to tell me for a moment. This court, said Scrooge, through which we are in now, is where my place of occupation is and has been for a length of time. I see the house. Let me behold what I shall be in days to come.' The Spirit stopped. The hand was pointed elsewhere. "'The house is yonder,' Scrooge exclaimed. Why do you point away?' The inexorable finger underwent no change.

3:09:20Scrooge hastened to the window of his office and looked in. It was an office still, but not his. The furniture was not the same and the figure in the chair was not himself. The phantom pointed as before. He joined it once again and wondering why and whether he had gone, accompanied it until they reached an iron gate. He paused to look round before entering. A churchyard. Here, then, the wretched man whose name he had now to learn lay underneath the ground. It was a worthy place. walled in by houses, overrun by grass and weeds, the growth of vegetation's death, not life, choked up with too much burying, fat with repeated appetite. A worthy place. The Spirit stood among the graves and pointed down to one. He advanced towards it trembling. The phantom was exactly as it had been, but he dreaded that he saw new meaning in its solemn shape.

3:10:31Before I drawed nearer to that stone to which you point, said Scrooge, answer me one question. Are these the shadows of the things that will be, or are they the shadows of things that may be only? Still, the ghost pointed downward to the grave by which it stood. Man's courses will foreshadow certain ends, to which, if persevered in, they must lead, said Scrooge, but if the courses be departed from, the ends will change. Say it is thus with what you show me. The Spirit was unmovable as ever. Scrooge crept towards it, trembling as he went, and following the finger, read upon the stone of the neglected grave, his own name, Ebenezer Scrooge.

3:11:31Am I the man that lay upon the bed? He cried upon his knees. The finger pointed from the grave to him and back again. No, Spirit, no, no, no. The finger still was there. Spirit? He cried, tightly clutching at its robe. Hear me. I am not the man I was. I will not be the man I must have been but for this intercourse. Why show me this, if I am past all hope? For the first time the hand appeared to shake. Good Spirit, he pursued, as down upon the ground he fell before it. Your nature intercedes for me and pities me. Assure me that I yet may change these shadows you have shown me by an altered life, the kind and trembled. I will honor Christmas in my heart and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the past, the present and the future. The Spirit of all three shall strive within me.

3:12:52I will not shut out the lessons that they teach. Oh, tell me I may sponge away the writing on this stone. In his agony he caught the spectral hand, it sought to free itself, but he was strong in his entreaty and detained it. The Spirit, stronger yet, repulsed him. Holding up his hands in a last prayer to have his fate reversed, he saw an alteration in the phantoms hood and dress. It shrunk, collapsed and dwindled down into a bedpost. End of Stave IV. Stave V. The End of it. Yes, and the bedpost was his own. The bed was his own, the room was his own. Best and happiest of all, the time before him was his own to make amends in.

3:13:56I will live in the past, the present and the future. Scrooge repeated, as he scrambled out of bed. The Spirit of all three shall strive within me. Oh, Jacob Marley, heaven and the Christmas time be praised for this. I say it on my knees, oh Jacob, on my knees. He was so fluttered and so glowing with his good intentions that his broken voice would scarcely answer to his call. He had been sobbing violently in his conflict with the Spirit, and his face was wet with tears. They are not torn down, cried Scrooge, folding one of his bed curtains in his arms. They are not torn down rings and all, they are here. I am here, the shadows of the things that would have been maybe dispelled. Oh, they will be. I know they will. His hands were busy with his garments all this time, turning them inside out, putting them on upside down, tearing them, mislaying them, making them parties to every kind of extravagance.

3:15:06I don't know what to do, cried Scrooge, laughing and crying in the same breath, and making a perfect lacune of himself with his stockings. I am light as a feather. I am as happy as an angel. I am married as a schoolboy. I am as giddy as a drunken man. I am married Christmas to everybody. I have been new yet to all the world. Hello there. He had frisked into the sitting room and was now standing there perfectly winded. There is the saucepan that the gruel was in, cried Scrooge, starting off again and going round the fireplace. There is the door by which the ghost of Jacob Molle entered. There is the corner where the ghost of Christmas present sat. Oh, there is the window when I saw the wandering spirits. It is all right. It is all true. It all happened.

3:16:06Really, for a man who had been out of practice for so many years, he was a splendid laugh, a most illustrious laugh. The father of a long, long line of brilliant laughs. I don't know what day of the month it is, Scrooge, but I don't know how long I have been among the spirits. I don't know anything. I am quite a baby. I never mind. I don't care. I'd rather be a baby. Hello, whoop, hello there. He was chucked in his transports by the churches ringing out the lustiest peels he had ever heard. Clash, clang, hammer, ding, dong, bell, bell, dong, ding, hammer, clang, clash. Oh, glorious, glorious. Running to the window, he opened it and put out his head. No fog, no mist, clear, bright, jovial, stirring, cold, cold, piping for the blood to dance to.

3:17:08Gold in sunlight, heavenly sky, sweet fresh air, merry bells. Oh, glorious, glorious. What's today? Crite Scrooge, calling downward to a boy in Sunday clothes, who perhaps had loitered in to look about him. I returned the boy with all his might of wonder. What's today, my fine fellow? said Scrooge. Today replied the boy. I, a Christmas day. It's Christmas day, said Scrooge to himself. I haven't missed it. The spirits have done it all in one night. Or they can do anything they like. Of course they can. Of course they can. Hello, my fine fellow. Hello, return the boy. Do you know the polteras in the next street but one at the corner? Scrooge inquired. I should hope I did. Reply the lad. Ah, an intelligent boy. Said Scrooge, a remarkable boy. Do you know whether they've sold the prize turkey that was hanging up there?

3:18:16Not the little prize turkey, the big one. What? The one as big as me? Return the boy. Ha, ha, ha, what a delightful boy. Said Scrooge, it has a pleasure to talk to him. Yes, my buck. It's hanging there now. Reply the boy. Is it? Said Scrooge. Go and buy it. Walker, exclaim the boy. No, no. Said Scrooge, I am an earnest. Go and buy it and tell him to bring it here that I may give them the direction where to take it. Come back with the man and I'll give you a shilling. Come back with him in less than five minutes and I'll give you half a crown. The boy was off like a shot. He must have had a steady hand at a trigger who could have got a shot off half so fast. Ah, ha, ha, I'll send it to Bob Cratchits. With Scrooge rubbing his hands and splitting with a laugh.

3:19:17Hmm, he shan't know who sends it. It's twice the size of Tiny Tim. Joe Miller never made such a joke as sending it to Bob's will be. The hand in which he wrote the address was not a steady one, but right at he did, somehow, and went downstairs to open the street door, ready for the coming of the Polterer's man. As he stood there, waiting his arrival, the knocker caught his eye. Ah, he shall love it as long as I live! Cratchits, Scrooge, patting it with his hand. I scarcely ever looked at it before. What an honest expression it has in his face. It's a wonderful knocker. Ah, here's the turkey. Hello? Who? How are you? Merry Christmas. It was a turkey. It never could have stood upon his legs that bird. He would have snapped them off short in a minute like sticks of ceiling wax.

3:20:17He, I, it's impossible to carry that to Camden down, said Scrooge. You must have a cab! The chuckle with which he said this and the chuckle with which he paid for the turkey and the chuckle with which he paid for the cab and the chuckle with which he recompensed the ball. The chuckle with which he sat down breathless in his chair again and chuckled till he cried. Shaving was not an easy task for his hand continued to shake very much when shaving requires attention, even when you don't dance while you're at it. But if he had cut the end of his nose off, he would have put a piece of sticking plaster over it and been quite satisfied. He dressed himself all in his best and at last got out into the streets. The people were by this time pouring forth, as he had seen them with the ghost of Christmas present, and walking with his hands behind him Scrooge regarded everyone with a delighted smile.

3:21:21He looked so irresistibly pleasant, in a word, that three or four good humid fellows said, good morning, sir, a Merry Christmas to you. And Scrooge said often afterwards that of all the blind sounds he had ever heard, those with a blithest in his ears. He had not gone far, when coming on towards him, he beheld the portly gentleman who had walked into his counting house the day before, and said, Scrooge and Marnie's, I believe. It sent a pang across his heart to think how this old gentleman would look upon him when they met, but he knew what path lay straight before him, and he took it. My dear sir, said Scrooge, quickening his pace and taking the old gentleman by both his hands. How do you do? I hope you succeeded yesterday. It was very kind of you. A Merry Christmas to you, sir.

3:22:23Mr. Scrooge? Yes, said Scrooge, that is my name, and I fear it may not be pleasant to you. Allow me to ask your pardon. And will you have the goodness? Here Scrooge whispered in his ear. Lord, bless me! Cry the gentleman, as if his breath were taken away. My dear Mr. Scrooge, are you serious? If you please, said Scrooge, not a farthing less. A great many back payments are included in it, I assure you. Will you do me that favor? My dear sir, said the other, shaking hands with him. I don't know what to say to such munific—don't say anything, please. Retort his Scrooge, come and see me. Will you come and see me? I will, cried the old gentleman, and it was clear he meant to do it. Thank you, said Scrooge, I have much obliged to you. I thank you fifty times. Bless you.

3:23:30He went to church and walked about the streets and watched the people hurrying to and fro, and patoured children on the head and questioned beggars and looked down into the street. And looked down into the kitchens of houses and up to the windows and found that everything could yield him pleasure. He had never dreamed that any walk, but that anything, could give him so much happiness. In the afternoon he turned his steps towards his nephew's house. He passed the door a dozen times before he had the courage to go up and knock. But he made a dash and did it. It's your master at home, my dear, said Scrooge to the girl. Nice girl, Barry. Yes, sir? Where is he, my love? Said Scrooge. He's in the dining-room, sir, along with mistress. I'll show you upstairs if you please. Thank you. He knows me.

3:24:30Said Scrooge, with his hand already on the dining-room lock, I'll go in here, my dear. He turned it gently and cedled his face in round the door. They were looking at the table, which was spread out in great array. For these young housekeepers are always nervous on such points and like to see that everything is right. Fred, said Scrooge. Dear heart alive, how his niece by marriage started. Scrooge had forgotten for the moment about her sitting in the corner with the footstool, or he wouldn't have done it on any account. Why, bless my soul, cried Fred, who's that? It is I. Here you're, Uncle Scrooge. I have come to dinner. Will you let me in, Fred? Let him in. It is a mercy he didn't shake his arm off. He was at home in five minutes. Nothing could be harder. His niece looked just the same.

3:25:37So did Topper when he came. So did the plump sister when she came. So did everyone when they came. Wonderful party, wonderful games, wonderful unanimity, wonderful happiness. But he was early at the office next morning. Oh, he was early there. If he could only be there first and catch Bob Cratchett coming in late, that was the thing he had said his heart upon. And he did it. Yes, he did. The clock struck nine. No, Bob. A quarter past. No, Bob. He was full eighteen minutes and a half behind his time. Scrooge sat with his door wide open that he might see him come into the tank. His hat was off before he opened the door. His comforter, too. He was on his stool in a jiffy driving away with his pen as if he were trying to overtake nine o'clock.

3:26:38Hello, Groud Scrooge and his accustomed voice as near as he could faint. What do you mean by coming here at this time of day? I am very sorry, sir, said Bob. I am behind my time. You are repeated Scrooge. Yes, I think you are. Step this way, sir, if you please. It's only once a year, sir, pleaded Bob appearing from the tank, which shall not be repeated. I was making brother Mary yesterday, sir. Now I will tell you what my friend, said Scrooge, I am not going to stand this sort of thing any longer. And therefore he continued leaping from his stool and giving Bob such a dig in the waistcoat that he staggered back into the tank again, and therefore I am going to raise your salary.

3:27:44Bob trembled and got a little nearer to the ruler. He had a momentary idea of knocking Scrooge down with it, holding him and calling to the people in the court for help and a straight waistcoat. A Merry Christmas, Bob, said Scrooge, with an earnestness that could not be mistaken as he clapped him on the back. And a Merry Christmas, Bob, my good fellow, then I have given you for many a year. I'll raise your salary and endeavour to assist your struggling family. And we will discuss your affairs this very afternoon over a Christmas bowl of smoking-bishop, Bob. Make up the fires and buy another cold scuttle before you dot another eye, Bob Cratchett. Scrooge was better than his word. He did it all, that infinitely more, and to tiny Tim, who did not die, he was a second father.

3:28:47He became as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a man, as the good old city knew, for any other good old city, town or burrow in the good old world. Some people laughed to see the authoration in him, but he let them laugh and little heated them. For he was wise enough to know that nothing ever happened on this globe for good, at which some people did not have their fill of laughter in the outset. And knowing that such as these would be blind anyway, he thought it quite as well that they should wrinkle up their eyes in greens, as have the malady in less attractive forms. His own heart laughed, and that was quite enough for him. He had no further intercourse with spirits, but lived upon the total abstinence principle ever afterward. And it was always said of him that he knew how to keep Christmas well. If any man alive possessed the knowledge, made that truly be said of us, and all of us. And so, as tiny Tim observed, God bless us, everyone.

3:30:01End of A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens.