upon a christmas night

AChristmasCarol

CharlesDickens

i

CONTENTS

Preface............................................................................................................................................................1

Chapter1-Marley’sGhost............................................................................................................................1

Chapter2-TheFirstoftheThreeSpirits.....................................................................................................10

Chapter3-TheSecondoftheThreeSpirits.................................................................................................18

Chapter4-TheLastoftheSpirits................................................................................................................29

Chapter5-TheEndofit..............................................................................................................................36

1

Preface

IhaveendeavouredinthisGhostlylittlebook,toraitheGhostofanIdea,whichshallnotputmy

readersoutofhumourwiththemlves,witheachother,withtheason,aunttheir

houspleasantly,andnoonewishtolayit.

TheirfaithfulFriendandServant,C.D.

December,1843.

Chapter1-Marley’sGhost

Marleywasdead:isterofhisburialwas

signedbytheclergyman,theclerk,theundertaker,

Scrooge’snamewasgoodupon‘Change,leywasasdead

asadoor-nail.

Mind!Idon’tmeantosaythatIknow,ofmyownknowledge,whatthereisparticularlydeadabouta

havebeeninclined,mylf,toregardacoffin-nailasthedeadestpieceofironmongeryin

wisdomofourancestorsisinthesimile;andmyunhallowedhandsshallnotdisturbit,or

theCountry’lthereforepermitmetorepeat,emphatically,thatMarleywasasdeadasa

door-nail.

Scroogeknewhewasdead?lditbeotherwi?Scroogeandhewere

partnersforIdon’ewashissoleexecutor,hissoleadministrator,hissole

assign,hissoleresiduarylegatee,hissolefriend,nScroogewasnotso

dreadfullycutupbythesadevent,butthathewasanexcellentmanofbusinessontheverydayofthe

funeral,andsolemniditwithanundoubtedbargain.

ThementionofMarley’snodoubtthat

stbedistinctlyunderstood,ornothingwonderfulcancomeofthestoryIam

renotperfectlyconvincedthatHamlet’sFatherdiedbeforetheplaybegan,there

wouldbenothingmoreremarkableinhistakingastrollatnight,inaneasterlywind,uponhisown

ramparts,thantherewouldbeinanyothermiddle-agedgentlemanrashlyturningoutafterdarkinabreezy

spot—saySaintPaul’sChurchyardforinstance—literallytoastonishhisson’sweakmind.

ScroogeneverpaintedoutOldMarley’tstood,yearsafterwards,abovetheware-hou

door:mespeoplenewtothe

businesscalledScroogeScrooge,andsometimesMarley,llthe

sametohim.

Oh!Buthewasatight-fistedhandatthegrindstone,Scrooge!asqueezing,wrenching,grasping,

scraping,clutching,covetousoldsinner!Hardandsharpasflint,fromwhichnosteelhadeverstruckout

generousfire;cret,andlf-contained,dwithinhimfrozehisold

features,nippedhispointedno,shrivelledhischeek,stiffenedhisgait;madehiyesred,histhinlips

blue;yrimewasonhishead,andonhiyebrows,and

iedhisownlowtemperaturealwaysaboutwithhim;heicedhisofficeinthe

dog-days;anddidn’tthawitonedegreeatChristmas.

thcouldwarm,nowintryweather

thatblewwasbittererthanhe,nofallingsnowwasmoreintentuponitspurpo,no

atherdidn’viestrain,and

snow,andhail,andsleet,tencame

downhandsomely,andScroogeneverdid.

Nobodyeverstoppedhiminthestreettosay,withgladsomelooks,“MydearScrooge,howareyou.

Whenwillyoucometoeme.”Nobeggarsimploredhimtobestowatrifle,nochildrenaskedhimwhatit

waso’clock,nomanorwomaneveronceinallhislifeinquiredthewaytosuchandsuchaplace,of

eblindmen’sdogsappearedtoknowhim;andwhentheysawhimcomingon,wouldtug

2

theirownersintodoorwaysandupcourts;andthenwouldwagtheirtailsasthoughtheysaid,“Noeyeat

allisbetterthananevileye,darkmaster!“

ButwhatdidScroogecare!hiswayalongthecrowdedpathsof

life,warningallhumansympathytokeepitsdistance,waswhattheknowingonescallnutstoScrooge.

Onceuponatime—ofallthegooddaysintheyear,onChristmasEve—oldScroogesatbusyinhis

old,bleak,bitingweather:foggywithal:andhecouldhearthepeopleinthecourt

outside,gowheezingupanddown,beatingtheirhandsupontheirbreasts,andstampingtheirfeetuponthe

yclockshadonlyjustgonethree,butitwasquitedarkalready:it

hadnotbeenlightallday:andcandleswereflaringinthewindowsoftheneighbouringoffices,likeruddy

camepouringinateverychinkandkeyhole,andwasso

denwithout,thatalthoughthecourtwasofthenarrowest,

ethedingycloudcomedroopingdown,obscuringeverything,onemighthavethoughtthatNaturelived

hardby,andwasbrewingonalargescale.

ThedoorofScrooge’scounting-houwasopenthathemightkeephiyeuponhisclerk,whoina

dismallittlecellbeyond,asortoftank,ehadaverysmallfire,buttheclerk’s

ouldn’treplenishit,forScroogekeptthe

coal-boxinhisownroom;andsosurelyastheclerkcameinwiththeshovel,themasterpredictedthatit

oretheclerkputonhiswhitecomforter,andtriedtowarm

himlfatthecandle;inwhicheffort,notbeingamanofastrongimagination,hefailed.

“AmerryChristmas,uncle!Godsaveyou!”hevoiceofScrooge’s

nephew,whocameuponhimsoquicklythatthiswasthefirstintimationhehadofhisapproach.

“Bah!”saidScrooge,“Humbug!”

Hehadsoheatedhimlfwithrapidwalkinginthefogandfrost,thisnephewofScrooge’s,thathe

wasallinaglow;hisfacewasruddyandhandsome;hiyessparkled,andhisbreathsmokedagain.

“Christmasahumbug,uncle!”saidScrooge’snephew.“Youdon’tmeanthat,Iamsure.”

“Ido,”saidScrooge.“MerryChristmas!Whatrighthaveyoutobemerry?whatreasonhaveyouto

bemerry?You’repoorenough.”

“Come,then,”returnedthenephewgaily.“Whatrighthaveyoutobedismal?whatreasonhaveyou

tobemoro?You’rerichenough.”

Scroogehavingnobetteranswerreadyonthespurofthemoment,said,“Bah!”again;andfollowedit

upwith“Humbug.”

“Don’tbecross,uncle,”saidthenephew.

“WhatelcanIbe,”returnedtheuncle,“whenIliveinsuchaworldoffoolsasthisMerry

Christmas!’sChristmastimetoyoubutatimeforpayingbillswithout

money;atimeforfindingyourlfayearolder,butnotanhourricher;atimeforbalancingyourbooksand

havingeveryitemin‘emthrougharounddozenofmonthsprenteddeadagainstyou?IfIcouldworkmy

will,”saidScroogeindignantly,“everyidiotwhogoesaboutwith“MerryChristmas”onhislips,shouldbe

boiledwithhisownpudding,ld!”

“Uncle!”pleadedthenephew.

“Nephew!”returnedtheuncle,sternly,“keepChristmasinyourownway,andletmekeepitinmine.”

“Keepit!”repeatedScrooge’snephew.“Butyoudon’tkeepit.”

“Letmeleaveitalone,then,”saidScrooge.“Muchgoodmayitdoyou!Muchgoodithaverdone

you!”

“TherearemanythingsfromwhichImighthavederivedgood,bywhichIhavenotprofited,Idare

say,”returnedthenephew:“sureIhavealwaysthoughtofChristmas

time,whenithascomeround—apartfromthevenerationduetoitssacrednameandorigin,ifanything

belongingtoitcanbeapartfromthat—asagoodtime:akind,forgiving,charitable,pleasanttime:theonly

timeIknowof,inthelongcalendaroftheyear,whenmenandwomenembyoneconnttoopentheir

3

shut-upheartsfreely,andtothinkofpeoplebelowthemasiftheyreallywerefellow-pasngerstothe

grave,refore,uncle,thoughithasnever

putascrapofgoldorsilverinmypocket,Ibelievethatithasdonemegood,andwilldomegood;andI

say,Godblessit!”

ngimmediatelynsibleoftheimpropriety,he

pokedthefire,andextinguishedthelastfrailsparkforever.

“Letmehearanothersoundfromyou,”saidScrooge,“andyou’llkeepyourChristmasbylosingyour

’requiteapowerfulspeaker,sir,”headded,turningtohisnephew.“Iwonderyoudon’tgo

intoParliament.”

“Don’tbeangry,!Dinewithusto-morrow.”

Scroogesaidthathewouldehim—yes,thewholelengthoftheexpression,

andsaidthathewouldehiminthatextremityfirst.

“Butwhy?”criedScrooge’snephew.“Why?”

“Whydidyougetmarried?”saidScrooge.

“BecauIfellinlove.”

“Becauyoufellinlove!”growledScrooge,asifthatweretheonlyonethingintheworldmore

ridiculousthanamerryChristmas.“Goodafternoon!”

“Nay,uncle,eitasareasonfornot

comingnow?”

“Goodafternoon,”saidScrooge.

“Iwantnothingfromyou;Iasknothingofyou;whycannotwebefriends?”

“Goodafternoon,”saidScrooge.

“Iamsorry,withallmyheart,neverhadanyquarrel,towhichIhave

vemadethetrialinhomagetoChristmas,andI’llkeepmyChristmashumourtothe

ryChristmas,uncle!”

“Goodafternoon!”saidScrooge.

“AndAHappyNewYear!”

“Goodafternoon!”saidScrooge.

Hisnephewlefttheroomwithoutanangryword,pedattheouterdoorto

bestowthegreetingoftheasonontheclerk,who,coldashewas,waswarmerthanScrooge;forhe

returnedthemcordially.

“There’sanotherfellow,”mutteredScrooge;whooverheardhim:“myclerk,withfifteenshillingsa

week,andawifeandfamily,talkingaboutamerryChristmas.I’llretiretoBedlam.”

Thislunatic,inlettingScrooge’snephewout,reportlygentlemen,

pleasanttobehold,andnowstood,withtheirhatsoff,inScrooge’dbooksandpapersin

theirhands,andbowedtohim.

“ScroogeandMarley’s,Ibelieve,”saidoneofthegentlemen,referringtohislist.“HaveIthe

pleasureofaddressingMrScrooge,?”

“hasbeendeadthevenyears,”Scroogereplied.“Hediedvenyearsago,thisvery

night.”

“Wehavenodoubthisliberalityiswellreprentedbyhissurvivingpartner,”saidthegentleman,

prentinghiscredentials.

Itcertainlywas;minousword“liberality”,Scrooge

frowned,andshookhishead,andhandedthecredentialsback.

“Atthisfestiveasonoftheyear,MrScrooge,”saidthegentleman,takingupapen,“itismorethan

usuallydesirablethatweshouldmakesomeslightprovisionforthePooranddestitute,whosuffergreatly

ousandsareinwantofcommonnecessaries;hundredsofthousandsareinwant

ofcommoncomforts,sir.”

4

“Aretherenoprisons?”askedScrooge.

“Plentyofprisons,”saidthegentleman,layingdownthepenagain.

“AndtheUnionworkhous?”demandedScrooge.“Aretheystillinoperation?”

“,”returnedthegentleman,“IwishIcouldsaytheywerenot.”

“TheTreadmillandthePoorLawareinfullvigour,then?”saidScrooge.

“Bothverybusy,sir.”

“Oh!Iwasafraid,fromwhatyousaidatfirst,thatsomethinghadoccurredtostopthemintheiruful

cour,”saidScrooge.“I’mverygladtohearit.”

“UndertheimpressionthattheyscarcelyfurnishChristiancheerofmindorbodytothemultitude,”

returnedthegentleman,“afewofusareendeavouringtoraiafundtobuythePoorsomemeatanddrink,

thistime,becauitisatime,ofallothers,whenWantiskeenlyfelt,and

allIputyoudownfor?”

“Nothing!”Scroogereplied.

“Youwishtobeanonymous?”

“Iwishtobeleftalone,”saidScrooge.“SinceyouaskmewhatIwish,gentlemen,thatismyanswer.

Idon’tmakemerrymylfatChristmasandIcan’osupportthe

establishmentsIhavementioned:theycostenough:andthowhoarebadlyoffmustgothere.”

“Manycan’tgothere;andmanywouldratherdie.”

“Iftheywouldratherdie,”saidScrooge,“theyhadbetterdoit,anddecreathesurpluspopulation.

Besides—excume—Idon’tknowthat.”

“Butyoumightknowit,”obrvedthegentleman.

“It’snotmybusiness,”Scroogereturned.“It’noughforamantounderstandhisownbusiness,and

nottointerferewithotherpeople’ternoon,gentlemen!”

Seeingclearlythatitwouldbeulesstopursuetheirpoint,e

resumedhislabourswithanimprovedopinionofhimlf,andinamorefacetioustemperthanwasusual

withhim.

Meanwhilethefoganddarknessthickenedso,thatpeopleranaboutwithflaringlinks,profferingtheir

rvicestogobeforehorsincarriages,ienttowerofachurch,

whogruffoldbellwasalwayspeepingslilydownatScroogeoutofagothicwindowinthewall,became

invisible,andstruckthehoursandquartersintheclouds,withtremulousvibrationsafterwardsasifits

ainstreet,atthecorner

ofthecourt,somelabourerswererepairingthegas-pipes,andhadlightedagreatfireinabrazier,round

whichapartyofraggedmenandboysweregathered:warmingtheirhandsandwinkingtheireyesbefore

er-plugbeingleftinsolitude,itsoverflowingssullenlycongealed,andturned

ghtnessoftheshopswherehollysprigsandberriescrackledinthelamp-heatof

thewindows,rers’andgrocers’tradesbecameasplendidjoke:

agloriouspageant,withwhichitwasnexttoimpossibletobelievethatsuchdullprinciplesasbargainand

dMayor,inthestrongholdofthemightMansionHou,gaveorderstohis

fiftycooksandbutlerstokeepChristmasasaLordMayor’shouholdshould;andeventhelittletailor,

whomhehadfinedfiveshillingsonthepreviousMondayforbeingdrunkandbloodthirstyinthestreets,

stirreduptomorrow’spuddinginhisgarret,whilehisleanwifeandthebabysalliedouttobuythebeef.

Foggieryet,andcolder!Piercing,arching,oodSaintDunstanhadbutnippedthe

EvilSpirit’snowithatouchofsuchweatherasthat,insteadofusinghisfamiliarweapons,thenindeed

erofonescantyoungno,gnawedandmumbledbythe

hungrycoldasbonesaregnawedbydogs,stoopeddownatScrooge’skeyholetoregalehimwitha

Christmascarol:butatthefirstsoundofGodblessyou,merrygentleman!Maynothingyoudismay!

Scroogeizedtherulerwithsuchenergyofactionthatthesingerfledinterror,leavingthekeyholetothe

fogandevenmorecongenialfrost.

5

ill-willScroogedismounted

fromhisstool,andtacitlyadmittedthefacttotheexpectantclerkintheTank,whoinstantlysnuffedhis

candleout,andputonhishat.

“You’llwantalldaytomorrow,Isuppo?”saidScrooge.

“Ifquiteconvenient,Sir.”

“It’snotconvenient,”saidScrooge,“andit’tostophalf-a-crownforit,you’dthink

yourlfill-ud,I‘llbebound?”

Theclerksmiledfaintly.

“Andyet,”saidScrooge,“youdon’tthinkmeill-ud,whenIpayaday’swagesfornowork.”

Theclerkobrvedthatitwasonlyonceayear.

“Apoorexcuforpickingaman’spocketeverytwenty-fifthofDecember!”saidScrooge,buttoning

hisgreat-coattothechin.“alltheearliernext

morning!”

Theclerkpromidthathewould;icewasclodina

twinkling,andtheclerk,withthelongendsofhiswhitecomforterdanglingbelowhiswaist(forhe

boastednogreat-coat),wentdownaslideonCornhill,attheendofalaneofboys,twentytimes,inhonour

ofitsbeingChristmasEve,andthenranhometoCamdenTownashardashecouldpelt,toplayat

blindman’sbuff.

Scroogetookhismelancholydinnerinhisusualmelancholytavern;andhavingreadallthe

newspapers,andbeguiledtherestoftheeveningwithhisbanker’s-book,din

reagloomysuiteofrooms,ina

loweringpileofbuildingupayard,whereithadsolittlebusinesstobe,thatonecouldscarcelyhelp

fancyingitmusthaveruntherewhenitwasayounghou,playingathide-and-ekwithotherhous,

ldenoughnow,anddrearyenough,fornobodylivedinitbut

Scrooge,dwassodarkthatevenScrooge,whoknewits

everystone,andfrostsohungabouttheblackoldgatewayofthe

hou,thatitemedasiftheGeniusoftheWeathersatinmournfulmeditationonthethreshold.

Now,itisafact,thattherewasnothingatallparticularabouttheknockeronthedoor,exceptthatit

soafact,thatScroogehadenit,nightandmorning,duringhiswholeresidencein

thatplace;alsothatScroogehadaslittleofwhatiscalledfancyabouthimasanymanintheCityof

London,evenincluding—whichisaboldword—thecorporation,aldermen,lsobeborne

inmindthatScroogehadnotbestowedonethoughtonMarley,sincehislastmentionofhisven-year’s

nletanymanexplaintome,ifhecan,howithappenedthatScrooge,

havinghiskeyinthelockofthedoor,sawintheknocker,withoutitsundergoinganyintermediateprocess

ofchange:notaknocker,butMarley’sface.

Marley’otinimpenetrableshadowastheotherobjectsintheyardwere,buthada

dismallightaboutit,otangryorferocious,butlookedatScrooge

asMarleyudtolook:rwascuriously

stirred,asifbybreathorhot-air;and,thoughtheeyeswerewideopen,theywereperfectlymotionless.

That,anditslividcolour,madeithorrible;butitshorroremedtobeinspiteofthefaceandbeyondits

control,ratherthanapartofitsownexpression.

AsScroogelookedfixedlyatthisphenomenon,itwasaknockeragain.

Tosaythathewasnotstartled,orthathisbloodwasnotconsciousofaterriblensationtowhichit

hadbeenastrangerfrominfancy,uthishanduponthekeyhehadrelinquished,

turneditsturdily,walkedin,andlightedhiscandle.

Hedidpau,withamoment’sirresolution,beforeheshutthedoor;andhedidlookcautiously

behinditfirst,asifhehalfexpectedtobeterrifiedwiththesightofMarley’spigtailstickingoutintothe

rewasnothingonthebackofthedoor,exceptthescrewsandnutsthatheldtheknockeron,so

6

hesaid“Pooh,pooh!”andcloditwithabang.

oomabove,andeverycaskinthe

wine-merchant’scellarsbelow,ewasnota

enedthedoor,andwalkedacrossthehall,andupthestairs,slowly

too:trimminghiscandleashewent.

Youmaytalkvaguelyaboutdrivingacoach-and-sixupagoodoldflightofstairs,orthroughabad

youngActofParliament;butImeantosayyoumighthavegotahearupthatstairca,andtakenit

broadwi,withthesplinter-bartowardsthewallandthedoortowardsthebalustrades:anddoneiteasy.

Therewasplentyofwidthforthat,androomtospare;whichisperhapsthereasonwhyScroogethoughthe

-a-dozengas-lampsoutofthestreet

wouldn’thavelightedtheentrytoowell,soyoumaysuppothatitwasprettydarkwithScrooge’sdip.

UpScroogewent,notcaringabuttonforthat:darknessischeap,orehe

shuthisheavydoor,ustenoughrecollection

ofthefacetodesiretodothat.

Sitting-room,bed-room,underthetable,nobodyunder

thesofa;asmallfireinthegrate;spoonandbasinready;andthelittlesaucepanofgruel(Scroogehasa

coldinhishead)underthebed;nobodyintheclot;nobodyinhisdressing-gown,

e-guard,old

shoes,twofish-baskets,washing-standonthreelegs,andapoker.

Quitesatisfied,heclodhisdoor,andlockedhimlfin;double-lockedhimlfin,whichwasnothis

curedagainstsurpri,hetookoffhiscravat;putonhisdressing-gownandslippers,and

hisnight-cap;andsatdownbeforethefiretotakehisgruel.

Itwasaverylowfireindeed;bligedtositclotoit,and

broodoverit,befo

fireplacewasanoldone,builtbysomeDutchmerchantlongago,andpavedallroundwithquaintDutch

tiles,ereCainsandAbels,Pharaoh’sdaughters,Queensof

Sheba,Angelicmesngersdescendingthroughtheaironcloudslikefeather-beds,Abrahams,Belshazzars,

Apostlesputtingofftoainbutter-boats,hundredsoffigurestoattracthisthoughts;andyetthatfaceof

Marley,venyearsdead,cameliketheancientProphet’srod,

smoothtilehadbeenablankatfirst,withpowertoshapesomepictureonitssurfacefromthedisjointed

fragmentsofhisthoughts,therewouldhavebeenacopyofoldMarley’sheadoneveryone.

“Humbug!”saidScrooge;andwalkedacrosstheroom.

Afterveralturns,rewhisheadbackinthechair,hisglancehappenedto

restuponabell,adisudbell,thathungintheroom,andcommunicatedforsomepurponowforgotten

ithgreatastonishment,andwithastrange,

inexplicabledread,thatashelooked,gsosoftlyintheouttthatit

scarcelymadeasound;butsoonitrangoutloudly,andsodideverybellinthehou.

Thismighthavelastedhalfaminute,oraminute,lsceadastheyhad

begun,resucceededbyaclankingnoi,deepdownbelow;asifsomepersonwere

draggingaheavychainoverthecasksinthewine-merchant’ethenrememberedtohave

heardthatghostsinhauntedhousweredescribedasdraggingchains.

Thecellar-doorflewopenwithaboomingsound,andthenheheardthenoimuchlouder,onthe

floorsbelow;thencomingupthestairs;thencomingstraighttowardshisdoor.

“It’shumbugstill!”saidScrooge.“Iwon’tbelieveit.”

Hiscolourchangedthough,when,withoutapau,itcameonthroughtheheavydoor,andpasd

scomingin,thedyingflameleapedup,asthoughitcried,“Iknow

him!Marley’sGhost!”andfellagain.

Thesameface:inhispigtail,usualwaistcoat,tights,andboots;thetaslson

7

thelatterbristling,likehispigtail,andhiscoat-skirts,inhedrewwas

ong,andwoundabouthimlikeatail;anditwasmade(forScrooge

obrveditcloly)ofcash-boxes,keys,padlocks,ledgers,deeds,

bodywastransparent;sothatScrooge,obrvinghim,andlookingthroughhiswaistcoat,couldethetwo

buttonsonhiscoatbehind.

ScroogehadoftenhearditsaidthatMarleyhadnobowels,buthehadneverbelievedituntilnow.

No,helookedthephantomthroughandthrough,andsawit

standingbeforehim;thoughhefeltthechillinginfluenceofitsdeath-coldeyes;andmarkedthevery

textureofthefoldedkerchiefboundaboutitsheadandchin,whichwrapperhehadnotobrvedbefore;he

wasstillincredulous,andfoughtagainsthisns.

“Hownow!”saidScrooge,causticandcoldaver.“Whatdoyouwantwithme?”

“Much!”—Marley’svoice,nodoubtaboutit.

“Whoareyou?”

“AskmewhoIwas.”

“Whowereyouthen.”saidScrooge,raisinghisvoice.“You’reparticular,forashade.”Hewasgoing

tosay“toashade,”butsubstitutedthis,asmoreappropriate.

“InlifeIwasyourpartner,JacobMarley.”

“Canyou—canyousitdown?”askedScrooge,lookingdoubtfullyathim.

“Ican.”

“Doit,then.”

Scroogeaskedthequestion,becauhedidn’tknowwhetheraghostsotransparentmightfindhimlf

inaconditiontotakeachair;andfeltthatintheeventofitsbeingimpossible,itmightinvolvethe

ghostsatdownontheoppositesideofthefireplace,asif

hewerequiteudtoit.

“Youdon’tbelieveinme,”obrvedtheGhost.

“Idon’t,”saidScrooge.

“Whatevidencewouldyouhaveofmyrealitybeyondthatofyourns?”

“Idon’tknow,”saidScrooge.

“Whydoyoudoubtyourns?”

“Becau,”saidScrooge,“tdisorderofthestomachmakesthem

beanundigestedbitofbeef,ablotofmustard,acrumbofchee,afragmentofan

’smoreofgravythanofgraveaboutyou,whateveryouare!”

Scroogewasnotmuchinthehabitofcrackingjokes,nordidhefeel,inhisheart,byanymeans

this,thathetriedtobesmart,asameansofdistractinghisownattention,and

keepingdownhisterror;forthespectre’svoicedisturbedtheverymarrowinhisbones.

Tosit,staringatthofixed,glazedeyes,insilenceforamoment,wouldplay,Scroogefelt,thevery

assomethingveryawful,too,inthespectre’sbeingprovidedwithaninfernal

ecouldnotfeelithimlf,butthiswasclearlytheca;forthoughtheGhost

satperfectlymotionless,itshair,andskirts,andtasls,werestillagitatedasbythehotvapourfroman

oven.

“Youethistoothpick?”saidScrooge,returningquicklytothecharge,forthereasonjustassigned;

andwishing,thoughitwereonlyforacond,todivertthevision’sstonygazefromhimlf.

“Ido,”repliedtheGhost.

“Youarenotlookingatit,”saidScrooge.

“ButIeit,”saidtheGhost,“notwithstanding.”

“Well!”returnedScrooge,“Ihavebuttoswallowthis,andbefortherestofmydayspercutedbya

legionofgoblins,,Itellyou;humbug!”

Atthisthespiritraidafrightfulcry,andshookitschainwithsuchadismalandappallingnoi,that

8

Scroogeheldontighttohischair,muchgreaterwashis

horror,whenthephantomtakingoffthebandagerounditshead,asifitweretoowarmtowearin-doors,its

lowerjawdroppeddownuponitsbreast!

Scroogefelluponhisknees,andclaspedhishandsbeforehisface.

“Mercy!”hesaid.“Dreadfulapparition,whydoyoutroubleme?”

“Manoftheworldlymind!”repliedtheGhost,“doyoubelieveinmeornot?”

“Ido,”saidScrooge.“dospiritswalktheearth,andwhydotheycometome?”

“Itisrequiredofeveryman,”theGhostreturned,“thatthespiritwithinhimshouldwalkabroad

amonghisfellow-men,andtravelfarandwide;andifthatspiritgoesnotforthinlife,itiscondemnedto

omedtowanderthroughtheworld—oh,woeisme!—andwitnesswhatitcannot

share,butmighthavesharedonearth,andturnedtohappiness!”

Againthespectreraidacry,andshookitschain,andwrungitsshadowyhands.

“Youarefettered,”saidScrooge,trembling.“Tellmewhy?”

“IwearthechainIforgedinlife,”repliedtheGhost.“Imadeitlinkbylink,andyardbyyard;I

girdeditonofmyownfreewill,atternstrangetoyou?”

Scroogetrembledmoreandmore.

“Orwouldyouknow,”pursuedtheGhost,“theweightandlengthofthestrongcoilyoubearyourlf?

Itwasfullasheavyandaslongasthis,elabouredonit,

ponderouschain!”

Scroogeglancedabouthimonthefloor,intheexpectationoffindinghimlfsurroundedbysome

fiftyorsixtyfathomsofironcable:buthecouldenothing.

“Jacob,”hesaid,imploringly.“OldJacobMarley,omforttome,Jacob.”

“Ihavenonetogive,”theGhostreplied.“Itcomesfromotherregions,EbenezerScrooge,andis

conveyedbyotherministers,ittlemore,is

trest,Icannotstay,itneverwalkedbeyond

ourcounting-hou—markme!—inlifemyspiritneverrovedbeyondthenarrowlimitsofour

money-changinghole;andwearyjourneysliebeforeme!”

ItwasahabitwithScrooge,wheneverhebecamethoughtful,toputhishandsinhisbreechespockets.

PonderingonwhattheGhosthadsaid,hedidsonow,butwithoutliftinguphiyes,orgettingoffhis

knees.

“Youmusthavebeenveryslowaboutit,Jacob,”Scroogeobrved,inabusiness-likemanner,though

withhumilityanddeference.

“Slow!”theGhostrepeated.

“Sevenyearsdead,”mudScrooge.“Andtravellingallthetime?”

“Thewholetime,”saidtheGhost.“Norest,anttortureofremor.”

“Youtravelfast?”saidScrooge.

“Onthewingsofthewind,”repliedtheGhost.

“Youmighthavegotoveragreatquantityofgroundinvenyears,”saidScrooge.

TheGhost,onhearingthis,tupanothercry,andclankeditschainsohideouslyinthedeadsilence

ofthenight,thattheWardwouldhavebeenjustifiedinindictingitforanuisance.

“Oh!captive,bound,anddouble-ironed,”criedthephantom,“nottoknow,thatagesofincessant

labourbyimmortalcreatures,forthiarthmustpassintoeternitybeforethegoodofwhichitis

nowthatanyChristianspiritworkingkindlyinitslittlesphere,

whateveritmaybe,nowthatno

spaceofregretcanmakeamendsforonelife’sopportunitiesmisud!YetsuchwasI!Oh!suchwasI!”

“Butyouwerealwaysagoodmanofbusiness,Jacob,”falteredScrooge,whonowbegantoapplythis

tohimlf.

“Business!”criedtheGhost,wringingitshandsagain.“mon

9

welfarewasmybusiness;charity,mercy,forbearance,andbenevolence,were,all,

dealingsofmytradewerebutadropofwaterinthecomprehensiveoceanofmybusiness!”

Itheldupitschainatarm’slength,asifthatwerethecauofallitsunavailinggrief,andflungit

heavilyuponthegroundagain.

“Atthistimeoftherollingyear,”thespectresaid,“Iwalkthroughcrowdsof

fellow-beingswithmyeyesturneddown,andneverraithemtothatblesdStarwhichledtheWiMen

toapoorabode?Weretherenopoorhomestowhichitslightwouldhaveconductedme!”

Scroogewasverymuchdismayedtohearthespectregoingonatthisrate,andbegantoquake

exceedingly.

“Hearme!”criedtheGhost.“Mytimeisnearlygone.”

“Iwill,”saidScrooge.“Butdon’tbeharduponme!Don’tbeflowery,Jacob!Pray!”

“HowitisthatIappearbeforeyouinashapethatyoucane,atinvisible

besideyoumanyandmanyaday.”

eshivered,andwipedtheperspirationfromhisbrow.

“Thatisnolightpartofmypenance,”pursuedtheGhost.“Iamhereto-nighttowarnyou,thatyou

eandhopeofmyprocuring,Ebenezer.”

“Youwerealwaysagoodfriendtome,”saidScrooge.“Thank’ee!”

“Youwillbehaunted,”resumedtheGhost,“byThreeSpirits.”

Scrooge’scountenancefellalmostaslowastheGhost’shaddone.

“Isthatthechanceandhopeyoumentioned,Jacob?”hedemanded,inafalteringvoice.

“Itis.”

“I—IthinkI’drathernot,”saidScrooge.

“Withouttheirvisits,”saidtheGhost,“thefirst

to-morrow,whenthebelltollsOne.”

“Couldn’tItake‘emallatonce,andhaveitover,Jacob?”hintedScrooge.

“rduponthenextnightwhenthelast

emenomore;andlookthat,foryourownsake,you

rememberwhathaspasdbetweenus.”

Whenithadsaidthewords,thespectretookitswrapperfromthetable,andbounditrounditshead,

eknewthis,bythesmartsounditsteethmade,whenthejawswerebroughttogetherby

uredtoraihiyesagain,andfoundhissupernaturalvisitorconfrontinghiminan

erectattitude,withitschainwoundoverandaboutitsarm.

Theapparitionwalkedbackwardfromhim;andateverystepittook,thewindowraiditlfalittle,

sothatwhenthespectrereachedit,itwaswideopen.

ItbeckonedScroogetoapproach,eywerewithintwopacesofeachother,

Marley’sGhostheldupitshand,estopped.

Notsomuchinobedience,asinsurpriandfear:forontheraisingofthehand,hebecamensible

ofconfudnoisintheair;incoherentsoundsoflamentationandregret;wailingsinexpressibly

ctre,afterlisteningforamoment,joinedinthemournfuldirge;and

floatedoutuponthebleak,darknight.

Scroogefollowedtothewindow:edout.

Theairwasfilledwithphantoms,wanderinghitherandthitherinrestlesshaste,andmoaningasthey

neofthemworechainslikeMarley’sGhost;somefew(theymightbeguiltygovernments)

werelinkedtogether;

beenquitefamiliarwithoneoldghost,inawhitewaistcoat,withamonstrousironsafeattachedtoits

ankle,whocriedpiteouslyatbeingunabletoassistawretchedwomanwithaninfant,whomitsawbelow,

erywiththemallwas,clearly,thattheysoughttointerfere,forgood,inhuman

matters,andhadlostthepowerforever.

10

Whetherthecreaturesfadedintomist,ormistenshroudedthem,yandtheir

spiritvoicesfadedtogether;andthenightbecameasithadbeenwhenhewalkedhome.

Scroogeclodthewindow,

double-locked,ashehadlockeditwithhisownhands,dtosay

“Humbug!”ng,fromtheemotionhehadundergone,orthefatigues

oftheday,orhisglimpoftheInvisibleWorld,orthedullconversationoftheGhost,orthelatenessof

thehour,muchinneedofrepo;wentstraighttobed,withoutundressing,andfellasleepupontheinstant.

Chapter2-TheFirstoftheThreeSpirits

WhenScroogeawoke,itwassodark,thatlookingoutofbed,hecouldscarcelydistinguishthe

ndeavouringtopiercethedarkness

withhisferreteyes,stenedfor

thehour.

Tohisgreatastonishmenttheheavybellwentonfromsixtoven,andfromventoeight,and

regularlyuptotwelve;!ckwaswrong.

!

Hetouchedthespringofhisrepeater,idlittlepulbeat

twelve:andstopped.

“Why,itisn’tpossible,”saidScrooge,“thatIcanhavesleptthroughawholedayandfarintoanother

’tpossiblethatanythinghashappenedtothesun,andthisistwelveatnoon!”

Theideabeinganalarmingone,hescrambledoutofbed,

obligedtorubthefrostoffwiththesleeveofhisdressing-gownbeforehecouldeanything;andcould

ouldmakeoutwas,thatitwasstillveryfoggyandextremelycold,andthat

therewasnonoiofpeoplerunningtoandfro,andmakingagreatstir,asthereunquestionablywould

havebeenifnighthadbeatenoffbrightday,sagreatrelief,

becau“erScroogeorhisorder,”andso

forth,wouldhavebecomeamereUnitedStates’curityiftherewerenodaystocountby.

Scroogewenttobedagain,andthought,andthought,andthoughtitoverandover,andcouldmake

ehethought,themoreperplexedhewas;andthemoreheendeavourednottothink,

themorehethoughtMarley’imeheresolvedwithinhimlf,

aftermatureinquiry,thatitwasalladream,hismindflewback,likeastrongspringrelead,toitsfirst

position,andprentedthesameproblemtobeworkedallthrough,“Wasitadreamornot?”

Scroogelayinthisstateuntilthechimehadgonethreequartersmore,whenheremembered,ona

sudden,lvedtolieawake

untilthehourwaspast;and,consideringthathecouldnomoregotosleepthangotoHeaven,thiswas

perhapsthewistresolutioninhispower.

Thequarterwassolong,thathewasmorethanonceconvincedhemusthavesunkintoadoze

unconsciously,thitbrokeuponhislisteningear.

“Ding,dong!”

“Aquarterpast,”saidScrooge,counting.

“Ding,dong!”

“Halfpast!”saidScrooge.

“Ding,dong!”

“Aquartertoit,”saidScrooge.

“Ding,dong!”

“Thehouritlf,”saidScrooge,triumphantly,“andnothingel!”

Hespokebeforethehourbellsounded,whichitnowdidwithadeep,dull,hollow,melancholyONE.

Lightflashedupintheroomupontheinstant,andthecurtainsofhisbedweredrawn.

Thecurtainsofhisbedweredrawnaside,Itellyou,curtainsathisfeet,northe

11

curtainsathisback,tainsofhisbedweredrawnaside;

andScrooge,startingupintoahalf-recumbentattitude,foundhimlffacetofacewiththeunearthly

visitorwhodrewthem:asclotoitasIamnowtoyou,andIamstandinginthespiritatyourelbow.

Itwasastrangefigure—likeachild:yetnotsolikeachildaslikeanoldman,viewedthroughsome

supernaturalmedium,whichgavehimtheappearanceofhavingrecededfromtheview,andbeing

diminishedtoachild’r,whichhungaboutitsneckanddownitsback,waswhiteasif

withage;andyetthefacehadnotawrinkleinit,swere

verylongandmuscular;thehandsthesame,sandfeet,

mostdelicatelyformed,were,likethouppermembers,atunicofthepurestwhiteand

rounditswaistwasboundalustrousbelt,abranchoffreshgreen

hollyinitshand;and,insingularcontradictionofthatwintryemblem,haditsdresstrimmedwithsummer

strangestthingaboutitwas,thatfromthecrownofitsheadtheresprungabrightclearjet

oflight,bywhichallthiswasvisible;andwhichwasdoubtlesstheoccasionofitsusing,initsduller

moments,agreatextinguisherforacap,whichitnowheldunderitsarm.

Eventhis,though,whenScroogelookedatitwithincreasingsteadiness,wasnotitsstrangestquality.

Forasitsbeltsparkledandglitterednowinonepartandnowinanother,andwhatwaslightoneinstant,at

anothertimewasdark,sothefigureitlffluctuatedinitsdistinctness:beingnowathingwithonearm,

nowwithoneleg,nowwithtwentylegs,nowapairoflegswithoutahead,nowaheadwithoutabody:of

whichdissolvingparts,

theverywonderofthis,itwouldbeitlfagain;distinctandclearaver.

“AreyoutheSpirit,sir,whocomingwasforetoldtome?”askedScrooge.

“Iam!”

arlylow,asifinsteadofbeingsoclobesidehim,itwereata

distance.

“Who,andwhatareyou?”Scroogedemanded.

“IamtheGhostofChristmasPast.”

“Longpast?”inquiredScrooge:obrvantofitsdwarfishstature.

“st.”

Perhaps,Scroogecouldnothavetoldanybodywhy,ifanybodycouldhaveaskedhim;buthehada

specialdesiretoetheSpiritinhiscap;andbeggedhimtobecovered.

“What!”exclaimedtheGhost,“wouldyousosoonputout,withworldlyhands,thelightIgive?Isit

notenoughthatyouareoneofthowhopassionsmadethiscap,andforcemethroughwholetrainsof

yearstowearitlowuponmybrow!”

Scroogereverentlydisclaimedallintentiontooffendoranyknowledgeofhavingwilfullybonneted

madeboldtoinquirewhatbusinessbroughthimthere.

“Yourwelfare!”saidtheGhost.

Scroogeexpresdhimlfmuchobliged,butcouldnothelpthinkingthatanightofunbrokenrest

ritmusthaveheardhimthinking,foritsaid

immediately:

“Yourreclamation,ed!”

Itputoutitsstronghandasitspoke,andclaspedhimgentlybythearm.

“Ri!andwalkwithme!”

ItwouldhavebeeninvainforScroogetopleadthattheweatherandthehourwerenotadaptedto

pedestrianpurpos;thatbedwaswarm,andthethermometeralongwaybelowfreezing;thathewasclad

butlightlyinhisslippers,dressing-gown,andnightcap;

grasp,thoughgentleasawoman’shand,:butfindingthattheSpiritmade

towardsthewindow,claspedhisrobeinsupplication.

“Iammortal,”Scroogeremonstrated,“andliabletofall.”

12

“Bearbutatouchofmyhandthere,”saidtheSpirit,layingituponhisheart,“andyoushallbeupheld

inmorethanthis!”

Asthewordswerespoken,theypasdthroughthewall,andstooduponanopencountryroad,with

knessand

themisthadvanishedwithit,foritwasaclear,cold,winterday,withsnowupontheground.“Good

Heaven!”saidScrooge,claspinghishandstogether,ashelookedabouthim.“Iwasbredinthisplace.I

wasaboyhere!”

tletouch,thoughithadbeenlightandinstantaneous,

appearedstillprenttotheoldman’onsciousofathousandodoursfloatingin

theair,eachoneconnectedwithathousandthoughts,andhopes,andjoys,andcareslong,long,forgotten.

“Yourlipistrembling,”saidtheGhost.“Andwhatisthatuponyourcheek?”

Scroogemuttered,withanunusualcatchinginhisvoice,thatitwasapimple;andbeggedtheGhost

toleadhimwherehewould.

“Yourecollecttheway?”inquiredtheSpirit.

“Rememberit!”criedScroogewithfervour;“Icouldwalkitblindfold.”

“Strangetohaveforgottenitforsomanyyears!”obrvedtheGhost.“Letusgoon.”

Theywalkedalongtheroad;Scroogerecognisingeverygate,andpost,andtree;untilalittle

market-townappearedinthedistance,withitsbridge,itschurch,aggyponies

nowwereentrottingtowardsthemwithboysupontheirbacks,whocalledtootherboysincountrygigs

andcarts,boyswereingreatspirits,andshoutedtoeachother,untilthebroad

fieldsweresofullofmerrymusic,thatthecrispairlaughedtohearit.

“Thearebutshadowsofthethingsthathavebeen,”saidtheGhost.“Theyhavenoconsciousnessof

us.”

Thejocundtravellerscameon;andastheycame,

herejoicedbeyondallboundstoethem!Whydidhiscoldeyeglisten,andhisheartleapupastheywent

past!WhywashefilledwithgladnesswhenheheardthemgiveeachotherMerryChristmas,asthey

partedatcross-roadsandbye-ways,fortheirveralhomes!WhatwasmerryChristmastoScrooge?Out

uponmerryChristmas!Whatgoodhaditeverdonetohim?

“Theschoolisnotquitederted,”saidtheGhost.“Asolitarychild,neglectedbyhisfriends,isleft

therestill.”

obbed.

Theyleftthehigh-road,byawell-rememberedlane,andsoonapproachedamansionofdullredbrick,

withalittleweathercock-surmountedcupola,ontheroof,largehou,but

oneofbrokenfortunes;forthespaciousofficeswerelittleud,theirwallsweredampandmossy,their

windowsbroken,luckedandstruttedinthestables;andthecoach-hous

itmoreretentiveofitsancientstate,within;forenteringthe

drearyhall,andglancingthroughtheopendoorsofmanyrooms,theyfoundthempoorlyfurnished,cold,

asanearthysavourintheair,achillybarenessintheplace,whichassociateditlf

somehowwithtoomuchgettingupbycandle-light,andnottoomuchtoeat.

Theywent,theGhostandScrooge,acrossthehall,edbefore

them,anddisclodalong,bare,melancholyroom,madebarerstillbylinesofplaindealformsanddesks.

Atoneofthealonelyboywasreadingnearafeeblefire;andScroogesatdownuponaform,andweptto

ehispoorforgottenlfasheudtobe.

Notalatentechointhehou,notasqueakandscufflefromthemicebehindthepanneling,notadrip

fromthehalf-thawedwater-spoutinthedullyardbehind,notasighamongtheleaflessboughsofone

despondentpoplar,nottheidleswingingofanemptystore-houdoor,no,notaclickinginthefire,but

fellupontheheartofScroogewithasofteninginfluence,andgaveafreerpassagetohistears.

TheSpirittouchedhimonthearm,andpointedtohisyoungerlf,ly

13

aman,inforeigngarments:wonderfullyrealanddistincttolookat:stoodoutsidethewindow,withanaxe

stuckinhisbelt,andleadinganassladenwithwoodbythebridle.

“Why,it’sAliBaba!“Scroogeexclaimedinecstasy.“It’sdearoldhonestAliBaba!Yes,yes,Iknow!

OneChristmastime,whenyondersolitarychildwaslefthereallalone,hedidcome,forthefirsttime,just

y!AndValentine,”saidScrooge,“andhiswildbrother,Orson;theretheygo!Andwhat’s

hisname,whowasputdowninhisdrawers,asleep,attheGateofDamascus;don’tyouehim!Andthe

Sultan’sGroomturnedupside-downbytheGenii;thereheisuponhishead!Servehimright.I’mgladofit.

WhatbusinesshadhetobemarriedtothePrincess!”

TohearScroogeexpendingalltheearnestnessofhisnatureonsuchsubjects,inamostextraordinary

voicebetweenlaughingandcrying;andtoehisheightenedandexcitedface;wouldhavebeenasurpri

tohisbusinessfriendsinthecity,indeed.

“There’stheParrot!”criedScrooge.“Greenbodyandyellowtail,withathinglikealettucegrowing

outofthetopofhishead;thereheis!PoorRobinCrusoe,hecalledhim,whenhecamehomeagainafter

sailingroundtheisland.“PoorRobinCrusoe,wherehaveyoubeen,RobinCrusoe?”Themanthoughthe

wasdreaming,buthewasn’heParrot,oesFriday,runningforhislifetothe

littlecreek!Halloa!Hoop!Halloo!”

Then,witharapidityoftransitionveryforeigntohisusualcharacter,hesaid,inpityforhisformer

lf,“Poorboy!”andcriedagain.

“Iwish,”Scroogemuttered,puttinghishandinhispocket,andlookingabouthim,afterdryinghis

eyeswithhiscuff:“butit’stoolatenow.”

“Whatisthematter?”askedtheSpirit.

“Nothing,”saidScrooge.“asaboysingingaChristmasCarolatmydoorlastnight.

Ishouldliketohavegivenhimsomething:that’sall.”

TheGhostsmiledthoughtfully,andwaveditshand:sayingasitdidso,“Letuseanother

Christmas!”

Scrooge’sformerlfgrewlargeratthewords,andtheroombecamealittledarkerandmoredirty.

Thepanelsshrunk,thewindowscracked;fragmentsofplasterfelloutoftheceiling,andthenakedlaths

wereshowninstead;buthowallthiswasbroughtabout,

knewthatitwasquitecorrect;thateverythinghadhappenedso;thattherehewas,aloneagain,whenall

theotherboyshadgonehomeforthejollyholidays.

Hewasnotreadingnow,elookedattheGhost,and

withamournfulshakingofhishead,glancedanxiouslytowardsthedoor.

Itopened;andalittlegirl,muchyoungerthantheboy,camedartingin,andputtingherarmsabouthis

neck,andoftenkissinghim,addresdhimasher“Dear,dearbrother.”

“Ihavecometobringyouhome,dearbrother!”saidthechild,clappinghertinyhands,andbending

downtolaugh.“Tobringyouhome,home,home!”

“Home,littleFan?”returnedtheboy.

“Yes!”saidthechild,brimfulofglee.“Home,,isso

muchkinderthanheudtobe,thathome’slikeHeaven!HespokesogentlytomeonedearnightwhenI

wasgoingtobed,thatIwasnotafraidtoaskhimoncemoreifyoumightcomehome;andhesaidYes,you

should;’retobeaman!”saidthechild,openinghereyes,

“andarenevertocomebackhere;butfirst,we’retobetogetheralltheChristmaslong,andhavethe

merriesttimeinalltheworld.”

“Youarequiteawoman,littleFan!”exclaimedtheboy.

Sheclappedherhandsandlaughed,andtriedtotouchhishead;butbeingtoolittle,laughedagain,

ebegantodraghim,inherchildisheagerness,towardsthe

door;andhe,nothinglothtogo,accompaniedher.

Aterriblevoiceinthehallcried.“BringdownMasterScrooge’sbox,there!“andinthehallappeared

14

theschoolmasterhimlf,whoglaredonMasterScroogewithaferociouscondescension,andthrewhim

conveyedhimandhissisterintothe

veriestoldwellofashiveringbest-parlourthateverwasen,wherethemapsuponthewall,andthe

celestialandterrestrialglobesinthewindows,producedadecanterof

curiouslylightwine,andablockofcuriouslyheavycake,andadministeredinstalmentsofthodaintiesto

theyoungpeople:atthesametime,ndingoutameagrervanttoofferaglassofsomethingtothe

postboy,whoansweredthathethankedthegentleman,butifitwasthesametapashehadtastedbefore,he

Scrooge’strunkbeingbythistimetiedontothetopofthechai,thechildrenbade

theschoolmastergood-byerightwillingly;andgettingintoit,drovegailydownthegarden-sweep:the

quickwheelsdashingthehoar-frostandsnowfromoffthedarkleavesoftheevergreenslikespray.

“Alwaysadelicatecreature,whomabreathmighthavewithered,”saidtheGhost.“Butshehada

largeheart!”

“Soshehad,”criedScrooge.“You’reright,Iwillnotgainsayit,bid!”

“Shediedawoman,”saidtheGhost,“andhad,asIthink,children.”

“Onechild,”Scroogereturned.

“True,”saidtheGhost.“Yournephew!”

Scroogeemeduneasyinhismind;andansweredbriefly,“Yes.”

Althoughtheyhadbutthatmomentlefttheschoolbehindthem,theywerenowinthebusy

thoroughfaresofacity,whereshadowypasngerspasdandrepasd;whereshadowycartsandcoaches

battlefortheway,adeplainenough,bythe

dressingoftheshops,thatheretooitwasChristmastimeagain;butitwavening,andthestreetswere

lightedup.

TheGhoststoppedatacertainwarehoudoor,andaskedScroogeifheknewit.

“Knowit!”saidScrooge.“WasIapprenticedhere!”

tofanoldgentlemaninaWelchwig,sittingbehindsuchahighdesk,thatifhe

hadbeentwoinchestallerhemusthaveknockedhisheadagainsttheceiling,Scroogecriedingreat

excitement:

“Why,it’soldFezziwig!Blesshisheart;it’sFezziwigaliveagain!”

OldFezziwiglaiddownhispen,andlookedupattheclock,

rubbedhishands;adjustedhiscapaciouswaistcoat;laughedalloverhimlf,fromhisshowstohisorgan

ofbenevolence;andcalledoutinacomfortable,oily,rich,fat,jovialvoice:

“Yoho,there!Ebenezer!Dick!”

Scrooge’sformerlf,nowgrownayoungman,camebrisklyin,accompaniedbyhis

fellow-’prentice.

“DickWilkins,tobesure!”saidScroogetotheGhost.“Blessme,erymuch

attachedtome,ck!Dear,dear!”

“Yoho,myboys!”saidFezziwig.“masEve,mas,

Ebenezer!Let’shavetheshuttersup,”criedoldFezziwig,withasharpclapofhishands,“beforeaman

cansay,JackRobinson!”

Youwouldn’tbelievehowthotwofellowswentatit!Theychargedintothestreetwiththe

shutters—one,two,three—had‘emupintheirplaces—four,five,six—barred‘emandpinned‘em—ven,

eight,nine—andcamebackbeforeyoucouldhavegottotwelve,pantinglikerace-hors.

“Hilli-ho!”criedoldFezziwig,skippingdownfromthehighdesk,withwonderfulagility.“Clear

away,mylads,andlet’shavelotsofroomhere!Hilli-ho,Dick!Chirrup,Ebenezer!”

Clearaway!Therewasnothingtheywouldn’thaveclearedaway,orcouldn’thaveclearedaway,with

ovablewaspackedoff,asifitweredismisd

frompubliclifeforevermore;thefloorwassweptandwatered,thelampsweretrimmed,fuelwasheaped

uponthefire;andthewarehouwasassnug,andwarm,anddry,andbrightaball-room,asyouwould

15

desiretoeuponawinter’snight.

Incameafiddlerwithamusic-book,andwentuptotheloftydesk,andmadeanorchestraofit,and

ig,thethreeMiss

Fezziwigs,allthe

thehoumaid,withhercousin,

camethecook,withherbrother’sparticularfriend,theboyfromovertheway,who

wassuspectedofnothavingboardenoughfromhismaster;tryingtohidehimlfbehindthegirlfromnext

doorbutone,allcame,oneafter

nother;someshyly,someboldly,somegracefully,someawkwardly,somepushing,somepulling;inthey

allcame,eyallwent,twentycoupleatonce;handshalfroundandback

againtheotherway;downthemiddleandupagain;roundandroundinvariousstagesofaffectionate

grouping;oldtopcouplealwaysturningupinthewrongplace;newtopcouplestartingoffagain,assoon

astheygotthere;alltopcouplesatlast,isresultwasbrought

about,oldFezziwig,clappinghishandstostopthedance,criedout,“Welldone!”andthefiddlerplunged

hishotfaceintoapotofporter,rningrest,uponhis

reappearance,heinstantlybeganagain,thoughtherewerenodancersyet,asiftheotherfiddlerhadbeen

carriedhome,exhausted,onashutter,andhewereabran-newmanresolvedtobeathimoutofsight,or

perish.

Thereweremoredances,andtherewereforfeits,andmoredances,andtherewascake,andtherewas

negus,andtherewasagreatpieceofColdRoast,andtherewasagreatpieceofColdBoiled,andthere

weremince-pies,greateffectoftheeveningcameaftertheRoastandBoiled,

whenthefiddler(anartfuldog,mind!ThesortofmanwhoknewhisbusinessbetterthanyouorIcould

havetoldithim!)struckup“SirRogerdeCoverley.”ThenoldFezziwigstoodouttodancewithMrs.

ple,too;withagoodstiffpieceofworkcutoutforthem;threeorfourandtwentypairof

partners;peoplewhowerenottobetrifledwith;peoplewhowoulddance,andhadnonotionofwalking.

Butiftheyhadbeentwiceasmany:ah,fourtimes:oldFezziwigwouldhavebeenamatchforthem,

r,

that’snothighprai,tellmehigher,andI’ivelightappearedtoissuefromFezziwig’s

ldn’thavepredicted,atanygiventime,

whatwouldbecomeof‘ighadgoneallthroughthe

dance;advanceandretire,holdhandswithyourpartner,bowandcurty;corkscrew;thread-the-needle,

andbackagaintoyourplace;Fezziwigcut—cutsodeftly,thatheappearedtowinkwithhislegs,andcame

uponhisfeetagainwithoutastagger.

Whentheclockstruckeleven,rsFezziwigtooktheirstations,

oneoneithersideofthedoor,andshakinghandswitheverypersonindividuallyasheorshewentout,

erybodyhadretiredbutthetwo‘prentices,theydidthe

sametothem;andthusthecheerfulvoicesdiedaway,andtheladswerelefttotheirbeds;whichwere

underacounterintheback-shop.

Duringthewholeofthistime,rtandsoulwerein

thescene,oboratedeverything,rememberedeverything,enjoyed

everything,otuntilnow,whenthebrightfacesofhisformer

lfandDickwereturnedfromthem,thatherememberedtheGhost,andbecameconsciousthatitwas

lookingfulluponhim,whilethelightuponitsheadburntveryclear.

“Asmallmatter,”saidtheGhost,“tomakethesillyfolkssofullofgratitude.”

“Small!”echoedScrooge.

TheSpiritsignedtohimtolistentothetwoapprentices,whowerepouringouttheirheartsinprai

ofFezziwig:andwhenhehaddoneso,said,

“Why!Isitnot?Hehasspentbutafewpoundsofyourmortalmoney:so

16

muchthathedervesthisprai?”

“Itisn’tthat,”saidScrooge,heatedbytheremark,andspeakingunconsciouslylikehisformer,nothis

latter,lf.“Itisn’tthat,hepowertorenderushappyorunhappy;tomakeourrvicelight

orburdensome;thispowerliesinwordsandlooks;inthingssoslightand

insignificantthatitisimpossibletoaddandcount‘emup:whatthen?Thehappinesshegives,isquiteas

greatasifitcostafortune.”

HefelttheSpirit’sglance,andstopped.

“Whatisthematter?”askedtheGhost.

“Nothingparticular,”saidScrooge.

“Something,Ithink?”theGhostinsisted.

“No,”saidScrooge,“dliketobeabletosayawordortwotomyclerkjustnow!That’s

all.”

Hisformerlfturneddownthelampsashegaveutterancetothewish;andScroogeandtheGhost

againstoodsidebysideintheopenair.

“Mytimegrowsshort,”obrvedtheSpirit.“Quick!”

ThiswasnotaddresdtoScrooge,ortoanyonewhomhecoulde,butitproducedanimmediate

ldernow;ehadnotthe

harshandrigidlinesoflateryears;asan

eager,greedy,restlessmotionintheeye,whichshowedthepassionthathadtakenroot,andwherethe

shadowofthegrowingtreewouldfall.

Hewasnotalone,butsatbythesideofafairyounggirlinamourning-dress:inwhoeyesthere

weretears,whichsparkledinthelightthatshoneoutoftheGhostofChristmasPast.

“Itmatterslittle,”shesaid,softly.“Toyou,ridolhasdisplacedme;andifitcan

cheerandcomfortyouintimetocome,asIwouldhavetriedtodo,Ihavenojustcautogrieve.”

“WhatIdolhasdisplacedyou?”herejoined.

“Agoldenone.”

“Thisistheeven-handeddealingoftheworld!”hesaid.“Thereisnothingonwhichitissohardas

poverty;andthereisnothingitprofesstocondemnwithsuchverityasthepursuitofwealth!”

“Youfeartheworldtoomuch,”sheanswered,gently.“Allyourotherhopeshavemergedintothe

eenyournobleraspirationsfalloffoneby

one,untilthemaster-passion,Gain,ot?”

“Whatthen?”heretorted.“EvenifIhavegrownsomuchwir,whatthen?Iamnotchangedtowards

you.”

Sheshookherhead.

“AmI?”

“adewhenwewerebothpoorandcontenttobeso,until,ingood

ason,wasmade,

youwereanotherman.”

“Iwasaboy,”hesaidimpatiently.

“Yourownfeelingtellsyouthatyouwerenotwhatyouare,”shereturned.“ich

promidhappinesswhenwewereoneinheart,en

andhowkeenlyIhavethoughtofthis,oughthatIhavethoughtofit,andcanrelea

you.”

“HaveIeversoughtrelea?”

“.”

“Inwhat,then?”

“Inachangednature;inanalteredspirit;inanotheratmosphereoflife;anotherHopeasitsgreatend.

hadneverbeenbetweenus,”

17

saidthegirl,lookingmildly,butwithsteadiness,uponhim;“tellme,wouldyouekmeoutandtrytowin

menow?Ah,no!”

Heemedtoyieldtothejusticeofthissupposition,aidwithastruggle,

“Youthinknot.”

“IwouldgladlythinkotherwiifIcould,”sheanswered,“Heavenknows!WhenIhavelearneda

Truthlikethis,ouwerefreeto-day,to-morrow,

yesterday,canevenIbelievethatyouwouldchooadowerlessgirl—youwho,inyourveryconfidence

withher,weigheverythingbyGain:or,choosingher,ifforamomentyouwerefalenoughtoyourone

guidingprincipletodoso,doInotknowthatyourrepentanceandregretwouldsurelyfollow?Ido;andI

ullheart,fortheloveofhimyouoncewere.”

Hewasabouttospeak;butwithherheadturnedfromhim,sheresumed.

“Youmay—thememoryofwhatispasthalfmakesmehopeyouwill—,very

brieftime,andyouwilldismisstherecollectionofit,gladly,asanunprofitabledream,fromwhichit

behappyinthelifeyouhavechon!”

Shelefthim,andtheyparted.

“Spirit!”saidScrooge,“showmenomore!oudelighttotortureme?”

“Oneshadowmore!”exclaimedtheGhost.

“Nomore!”criedScrooge.“’nomore!”

ButtherelentlessGhostpinionedhiminbothhisarms,andforcedhimtoobrvewhathappened

next.

Theywereinanothersceneandplace;aroom,notverylargeorhandsome,

tothewinterfiresatabeautifulyounggirl,solikethatlastthatScroogebelieveditwasthesame,untilhe

sawher,nowacomelymatron,inthisroomwasperfectly

tumultuous,forthereweremorechildrenthere,thanScroogeinhisagitatedstateofmindcouldcount;and,

unlikethecelebratedherdinthepoem,theywerenotfortychildrenconductingthemlveslikeone,but

quenceswereuproariousbeyondbelief;butnoone

emedtocare;onthecontrary,themotheranddaughterlaughedheartily,andenjoyeditverymuch;and

thelatter,soonbeginningtomingleinthesports,

wouldInothavegiventooneofthem!ThoughInevercouldhavebeensorude,no,no!Iwouldn’tforthe

wealthofalltheworldhavecrushedthatbraidedhair,andtornitdown;andforthepreciouslittleshoe,I

wouldn’thavepluckeditoff,Godblessmysoul!asuringherwaistinsport,as

theydid,boldyoungbrood,Icouldn’thavedoneit;Ishouldhaveexpectedmyarmtohavegrownroundit

forapunishment,Ishouldhavedearlyliked,Iown,tohave

touchedherlips;tohavequestionedher,thatshemighthaveopenedthem;tohavelookeduponthelashes

ofherdowncasteyes,andneverraidablush;tohaveletloowavesofhair,aninchofwhichwouldbe

akeepsakebeyondprice:inshort,Ishouldhaveliked,Idoconfess,tohavehadthelightestlicenceofa

child,andyettohavebeenmanenoughtoknowitsvalue.

Butnowaknockingatthedoorwasheard,andsucharushimmediatelyensuedthatshewithlaughing

faceandplundereddresswasbornetowardsitthecentreofaflushedandboisterousgroup,justintimeto

greetthefather,e

shoutingandthestruggling,andtheonslaughtthatwasmadeonthedefencelessporter!Thescalinghim,

withchairsforladders,todiveintohispockets,despoilhimofbrown-paperparcels,holdontightbyhis

cravat,hughimroundtheneck,pommelhisback,andkickhislegsinirrepressibleaffection!Theshoutsof

wonderanddelightwithwhichthedevelopmentofeverypackagewasreceived!Theterrible

announcementthatthebabyhadbeentakenintheactofputtingadoll’sfrying-panintohismouth,and

wasmorethansuspectedofhavingswallowedafictitiousturkey,gluedonawoodenplatter!Theimmen

reliefoffindingthisafalalarm!Thejoy,andgratitude,andecstasy!

enoughthatbydegreesthechildrenandtheiremotionsgotoutoftheparlour,andbyonestairatatime,up

18

tothetopofthehou;wheretheywenttobed,andsosubsided.

AndnowScroogelookedonmoreattentivelythanever,whenthemasterofthehou,havinghis

daughterleaningfondlyonhim,satdownwithherandhermotherathisownfireside;andwhenhe

thoughtthatsuchanothercreature,quiteasgracefulandasfullofpromi,mighthavecalledhimfather,

andbeenaspring-timeinthehaggardwinterofhislife,hissightgrewverydimindeed.

“Belle,”saidthehusband,turningtohiswifewithasmile,“Isawanoldfriendofyoursthis

afternoon.”

“Whowasit?”

“Guess!”

“HowcanI?Tut,don’tIknow.”sheaddedinthesamebreath,laughingashelaughed.“MrScrooge.”

“dhisofficewindow;andasitwasnotshutup,andhehadacandleinside,

tnerliesuponthepointofdeath,Ihear;andtherehesatalone.

Quitealoneintheworld,Idobelieve.”

“Spirit!”saidScroogeinabrokenvoice,“removemefromthisplace.”

“Itoldyouthewereshadowsofthethingsthathavebeen,”saidtheGhost.“Thattheyarewhatthey

are,donotblameme!”

“Removeme!”Scroogeexclaimed,“Icannotbearit!”

HeturnedupontheGhost,andeingthatitlookeduponhimwithaface,inwhichinsomestrange

waytherewerefragmentsofallthefacesithadshownhim,wrestledwithit.

“Leaveme!enolonger!”

Inthestruggle,ifthatcanbecalledastruggleinwhichtheGhostwithnovisibleresistanceonitsown

partwasundisturbedbyanyeffortofitsadversary,Scroogeobrvedthatitslightwasburninghighand

bright;anddimlyconnectingthatwithitsinfluenceoverhim,heizedtheextinguisher-cap,andbya

suddenactionpresditdownuponitshead.

TheSpiritdroppedbeneathit,sothattheextinguishercovereditswholeform;butthoughScrooge

presditdownwithallhisforce,hecouldnothidethelight,whichstreamedfromunderit,inan

unbrokenfloodupontheground.

Hewasconsciousofbeingexhausted,andovercomebyanirresistibledrowsiness;and,further,of

thecapapartingsqueeze,inwhichhishandrelaxed;andhadbarely

timetoreeltobed,beforehesankintoaheavysleep.

Chapter3-TheSecondoftheThreeSpirits

Awakinginthemiddleofaprodigiouslytoughsnore,andsittingupinbedtogethisthoughtstogether,

Scthathewas

restoredtoconsciousnessintherightnickoftime,fortheespecialpurpoofholdingaconferencewith

thecondmesngerdespatchedtohimthroughJacobMarley’,findingthatheturned

uncomfortablycoldwhenhebegantowonderwhichofhiscurtainsthisnewspectrewoulddrawback,he

putthemeveryoneasidewithhisownhands;andlyingdownagain,establishedasharplook-outallround

ishedtochallengetheSpiritonthemomentofitsappearance,anddidnotwishtobe

takenbysurpri,andmadenervous.

Gentlemenofthefree-and-easysort,whoplumethemlvesonbeingacquaintedwithamoveortwo,

andbeingusuallyequaltothetime-of-day,expressthewiderangeoftheircapacityforadventureby

obrvingthattheyaregoodforanythingfrompitch-and-tosstomanslaughter;betweenwhichopposite

extremes,nodoubt,tventuringfor

Scroogequiteashardilyasthis,Idon’tmindcallingonyoutobelievethathewasreadyforagoodbroad

fieldofstrangeappearances,andthatnothingbetweenababyandrhinoceroswouldhaveastonishedhim

verymuch.

Now,beingpreparedforalmostanything,hewasnotbyanymeanspreparedfornothing;and,

conquently,whentheBellstruckOne,andnoshapeappeared,hewastakenwithaviolentfitof

19

nutes,tenminutes,aquaterofanhourwentby,stime,helay

uponhisbed,theverycoreandcentreofablazeofruddylight,whichstreameduponitwhentheclock

proclaimedthehour;andwhich,beingonlylight,wasmorealarmingthanadozenghosts,ashewas

powerlesstomakeoutwhatitmeant,orwouldbeat;andwassometimesapprehensivethathemightbeat

thatverymomentaninterestingcaofspontaneouscombustion,withouthavingtheconsolationof

,however,hebegantothink—asyouorIwouldhavethoughtatfirst;foritisalwaysthe

personnotinthepredicamentwhoknowswhatoughttohavebeendoneinit,andwouldunquestionably

havedoneittoo—atlast,Isay,hebegantothinkthatthesourceandcretofthisghostlylightmightbein

theadjoiningroom,fromwhence,onfurthertracingit,eatakingfullposssion

ofhismind,hegotupsoftlyandshuffledinhisslipperstothedoor.

ThemomentScrooge’shandwasonthelock,astrangevoicecalledhimbyhisname,andbadehim

ed.

adundergoneasurprisingtransformation.

Thewallsandceilingweresohungwithlivinggreen,thatitlookedaperfectgrove;fromeverypartof

which,spleavesofholly,mistletoe,andivyreflectedbackthe

light,asifsomanylittlemirrorshadbeenscatteredthere;andsuchamightyblazewentroaringupthe

chimney,asthatdullpetrificationofahearthhadneverknowninScrooge’stime,orMarley’s,orformany

uponthefloor,toformakindofthrone,wereturkeys,gee,

game,poultry,brawn,greatjointsofmeat,sucking-pigs,longwreathsofsausages,mince-pies,

plum-puddings,barrelsofoysters,red-hotchesnuts,cherry-cheekedapples,juicyoranges,lusciouspears,

immentwelfth-cakes,andethingbowlsofpunch,thatmadethechamberdimwiththeirdelicious

stateuponthiscouch,theresatajollyGiant,glorioustoe:whoboreaglowingtorch,in

shapenotunlikePlenty’shorn,andhelditup,highup,tosheditslightonScrooge,ashecamepeeping

roundthedoor.

“Comein!”exclaimedtheGhost.“wmebetter,man!”

Scroogeenteredtimidly,otthedoggedScroogehehad

been;andthoughtheSpirit’yeswereclearandkind,hedidnotliketomeetthem.

“IamtheGhostofChristmasPrent,”saidtheSpirit.“Lookuponme!”

lothedinonesimplegreenrobe,ormantle,borderedwithwhitefur.

Thisgarmenthungsoloolyonthefigure,thatitscapaciousbreastwasbare,asifdisdainingtobe

t,obrvablebeneaththeamplefoldsofthegarment,werealso

bare;andonitsheaditworenoothercoveringthanahollywreath,thereandtherewithshiningicicles.

Itsdarkbrowncurlswerelongandfree:freeasitsgenialface,itssparklingeye,itsopenhand,itscheery

voice,itsunconstraineddemeanour,rounditsmiddlewasanantiquescabbard;

butnoswordwasinit,andtheancientsheathwaatenupwithrust.

“Youhaveneverenthelikeofmebefore!”exclaimedtheSpirit.

“Never,”Scroogemadeanswertoit.

“Haveneverwalkedforthwiththeyoungermembersofmyfamily;meaning(forIamveryyoung)

myelderbrothersborninthelateryears?”pursuedthePhantom.

“Idon’tthinkIhave,”saidScrooge.“uhadmanybrothers,Spirit?”

“Morethaneighteenhundred,”saidtheGhost.

“Atremendousfamilytoprovidefor!”mutteredScrooge.

TheGhostofChristmasPrentro.

“Spirit,”saidScroogesubmissively,“orthlastnighton

compulsion,-night,ifyouhaveaughttoteachme,letme

profitbyit.”

“Touchmyrobe!”

Scroogedidashewastold,andhelditfast.

20

Holly,mistletoe,redberries,ivy,turkeys,gee,game,poultry,brawn,meat,pigs,sausages,oysters,

pies,puddings,fruit,andpunch,heroom,thefire,theruddyglow,thehour

ofnight,andtheystoodinthecitystreetsonChristmasmorning,where(fortheweatherwasvere)the

peoplemadearough,butbriskandnotunpleasantkindofmusic,inscrapingthesnowfromthepavement

infrontoftheirdwellings,andfromthetopsoftheirhous:whenceitwasmaddelighttotheboystoe

itcomeplumpingdownintotheroadbelow,andsplittingintoartificiallittlesnow-storms.

Thehoufrontslookedblackenough,andthewindowsblacker,contrastingwiththesmoothwhite

sheetofsnowupontheroofs,andwiththedirtiersnowupontheground;whichlastdeposithadbeen

ploughedupindeepfurrowsbytheheavywheelsofcartsandwaggons;furrowsthatcrosdandrecrosd

eachotherhundredsoftimeswherethegreatstreetsbranchedoff;andmadeintricatechannels,hardto

wasgloomy,andtheshorteststreetswerechokedup

withadingymist,halfthawed,halffrozen,whoheavierparticlesdescendedinshowerofsootyatoms,as

ifallthechimneysinGreatBritainhad,byoneconnt,caughtfire,andwereblazingawaytotheirdear

hearts’asnothingverycheerfulintheclimateorthetown,andyetwasthereanairof

cheerfulnessabroadthattheclearestsummerairandbrightestsummersunmighthaveendeavouredto

diffuinvain.

Forthepeoplewhowereshovellingawayonthehoutopswerejovialandfullofglee;callingoutto

oneanotherfromtheparapets,andnowandthenexchangingafacetioussnowball—better-naturedmissile

farthanmanyawordyjest—

poulterers’shopswerestillhalfopen,andthefruiterers’eregreat,

round,pot-belliedbasketsofchesnuts,shapedlikethewaistcoatsofjollyoldgentlemen,lollingatthe

doors,ereruddy,brown-faced,

broad-girthedSpanishOnions,shininginthefatnessoftheirgrowthlikeSpanishFriars,andwinkingfrom

theirshelvesinwantonslynessatthegirlsastheywentby,andglanceddemurelyatthehung-upmistletoe.

Therewerepearsandapples,clusteredhighinbloomingpyramids;therewerebunchesofgrapes,made,in

theshopkeepers’benevolencetodanglefromconspicuoushooks,thatpeople’smouthsmightwatergratis

astheypasd;therewerepilesoffilberts,mossyandbrown,recalling,intheirfragrance,ancientwalks

amongthewoods,andpleasantshufflingsankledeepthroughwitheredleaves;therewereNorfolkBiffins,

squabandswarthy,ttingofftheyellowoftheorangesandlemons,and,inthegreatcompactnessoftheir

juicypersons,urgentlyentreatingandbeechingtobecarriedhomeinpaperbagsandeatenafterdinner.

Theverygoldandsilverfish,tforthamongthechoicefruitsinabowl,thoughmembersofadulland

stagnant-bloodedrace,appearedtoknowthattherewassomethinggoingon;and,toafish,wentgasping

roundandroundtheirlittleworldinslowandpassionlesxcitement.

TheGrocers’!ohtheGrocers’!nearlyclod,withperhapstwoshuttersdown,orone;butthrough

thogapssuchglimps!Itwasnotalonethatthescalesdescendingonthecountermadeamerrysound,

orthatthetwineandrollerpartedcompanysobriskly,orthatthecanisterswererattledupanddownlike

jugglingtricks,oreventhattheblendedscentsofteaandcoffeeweresogratefultotheno,oreventhat

theraisinsweresoplentifulandrare,thealmondssoextremelywhite,thesticksofcinnamonsolongand

straight,theotherspicessodelicious,thecandiedfruitssocakedandspottedwithmoltensugarastomake

itthatthefigsweremoistandpulpy,or

thattheFrenchplumsblushedinmodesttartnessfromtheirhighly-decoratedboxes,orthateverythingwas

goodtoeatandinitsChristmasdress;butthecustomerswereallsohurriedandsoeagerinthehopeful

promioftheday,thattheytumbledupagainsteachotheratthedoor,crashingtheirwickerbaskets

wildly,andlefttheirpurchasuponthecounter,andcamerunningbacktofetchthem,andcommitted

hundredsofthelikemistakes,inthebesthumourpossible;whiletheGrocerandhispeopleweresofrank

andfreshthatthepolishedheartswithwhichtheyfastenedtheirapronsbehindmighthavebeentheirown,

wornoutsideforgeneralinspection,andforChristmasdawstopeckatiftheycho.

Butsoonthesteeplescalledgoodpeopleall,tochurchandchapel,andawaytheycame,flocking

21

throughthestreetsintheirbestclothes,hesametimethereemerged

fromscoresofbye-streets,lanes,andnamelessturnings,innumerablepeople,carryingtheirdinnerstothe

baker’htofthepoorrevellersappearedtointeresttheSpiritverymuch,forhestoodwith

Scroogebesidehiminabaker’sdoorway,andtakingoffthecoversastheirbearerspasd,sprinkled

asaveryuncommonkindoftorch,foronceortwicewhen

therewereangrywordsbetweensomedinner-carrierswhohadjostledeachother,heshedafewdropsof

wateronthemfromit,ysaid,itwasashameto

twas!Godloveit,soitwas!

Intimethebellscead,andthebakers’wereshutup;andyettherewasagenialshadowingforthof

allthedinnersandtheprogressoftheircooking,inthethawedblotchofwetaboveeachbaker’soven;

wherethepavementsmokedasifitsstoneswerecookingtoo.

“Isthereapeculiarflavourinwhatyousprinklefromyourtorch?”askedScrooge.

“.”

“Woulditapplytoanykindofdinneronthisday?”askedScrooge.

“ronemost.”

“Whytoapooronemost?”askedScrooge.

“Becauitneedsitmost.”

“Spirit,”saidScrooge,afteramoment’sthought,“Iwonderyou,ofallthebeingsinthemanyworlds

aboutus,shoulddesiretocrampthepeople’sopportunitiesofinnocentenjoyment.”

“I!”criedtheSpirit.

“Youwoulddeprivethemoftheirmeansofdiningeveryventhday,oftentheonlydayonwhich

theycanbesaidtodineatall,”saidScrooge.“Wouldn’tyou?”

“I!”criedtheSpirit.

“YouektoclotheplacesontheSeventhDay?”saidScrooge.“Anditcomestothesamething.”

“Iek!”exclaimedtheSpirit.

“eendoneinyourname,oratleastinthatofyourfamily,”said

Scrooge.

“Therearesomeuponthiarthofyours,”returnedtheSpirit,“wholayclaimtoknowus,andwho

dotheirdeedsofpassion,pride,ill-will,hatred,envy,bigotry,andlfishnessinourname,whoareas

strangetousandalloutkithandkin,erthat,andchargetheirdoingson

themlves,notus.”

Scroogepromidthathewould;andtheywenton,invisible,astheyhadbeenbefore,intothe

remarkablequalityoftheGhost(whichScroogehadobrvedatthebaker’s),

thatnotwithstandinghisgiganticsize,hecouldaccommodatehimlftoanyplacewithea;andthathe

stoodbeneathalowroofquiteasgracefullyandlikeasupernaturalcreature,asitwaspossiblehecould

havedoneinanyloftyhall.

AndperhapsitwasthepleasurethegoodSpirithadinshowingoffthispowerofhis,orelitwashis

ownkind,generous,heartynature,andhissympathywithallpoormen,thatledhimstraighttoScrooge’s

clerk’s;fortherehewent,andtookScroogewithhim,holdingtohisrobe;andonthethresholdofthedoor

theSpiritsmiled,andstoppedtoblessBobCratchit’f

that!Bobhadbutfifteenboba-weekhimlf;hepocketedonSaturdaysbutfifteencopiesofhisChristian

name;andyettheGhostofChristmasPrentblesdhisfour-roomedhou!

ThenuproMrsCratchit,Cratchit’swife,dresdoutbutpoorlyinatwice-turnedgown,butbrave

inribbons,whicharecheapandmakeagoodlyshowforsixpence;andshelaidthecloth,assistedby

BelindaCratchit,condofherdaughters,alsobraveinribbons;whileMasterPeterCratchitplungeda

forkintothesaucepanofpotatoes,andgettingthecornersofhismonstrousshirtcollar(Bob’sprivate

property,conferreduponhissonandheirinhonouroftheday)intohismouth,rejoicedtofindhimlfso

gallantlyattired,twosmallerCratchits,

22

boyandgirl,cametearingin,screamingthatoutsidethebaker’stheyhadsmeltthegoo,andknownitfor

theirown;andbaskinginluxuriousthoughtsofsage-and-onion,theyoungCratchitsdancedaboutthe

table,andexaltedMasterPeterCratchittotheskies,whilehe(notproud,althoughhiscollarsnearly

chokedhim)blewthefire,untiltheslowpotatoesbubblingup,knockedloudlyatthesaucepan-lidtobelet

outandpeeled.

“Whathavergotyourpreciousfatherthen.”saidMrsCratchit.“Andyourbrother,TinyTim!And

Marthawarn’taslatelastChristmasDaybyhalf-an-hour!”

“Here’sMartha,mother!”saidagirl,appearingasshespoke.

“Here’sMartha,mother!”criedthetwoyoungCratchits.“Hurrah!There’ssuchagoo,Martha!”

“Why,blessyourheartalive,mydear,howlateyouare!”saidMrsCratchit,kissingheradozentimes,

andtakingoffhershawlandbonnetforherwithofficiouszeal.

“We’dadealofworktofinishuplastnight,”repliedthegirl,“andhadtoclearawaythismorning,

mother!”

“Well!Nevermindsolongasyouarecome,”saidMrsCratchit.“Sityedownbeforethefire,mydear,

andhaveawarm,Lordblessye!”

“No,no!There’sfathercoming,”criedthetwoyoungCratchits,whowereeverywhereatonce.“Hide,

Martha,hide!”

SoMarthahidherlf,andincamelittleBob,thefather,withatleastthreefeetofcomforterexclusive

ofthefringe,hangingdownbeforehim;andhisthreadbareclothesdarnedupandbrushed,tolook

asonable;rTinyTim,heborealittlecrutch,andhadhislimbs

supportedbyanironframe!

“Why,where’sourMartha?”criedBobCratchit,lookinground.

“Notcoming,”saidMrsCratchit.

“Notcoming!”saidBob,withasuddendeclensioninhishighspirits;forhehadbeenTim’sblood

horallthewayfromchurch,andhadcomehomerampant.“NotcominguponChristmasDay!”

Marthadidn’tliketoehimdisappointed,ifitwereonlyinjoke;soshecameoutprematurelyfrom

behindtheclotdoor,andranintohisarms,whilethetwoyoungCratchitshustledTinyTim,andbore

himoffintothewash-hou,thathemighthearthepuddingsinginginthecopper.

“AndhowdidlittleTimbehave?”askedMrsCratchit,whenshehadralliedBobonhiscredulityand

Bobhadhuggedhisdaughtertohisheart’scontent.

“Asgoodasgold,”saidBob,“whegetsthoughtful,sittingbyhimlfsomuch,

me,cominghome,thathehopedthepeoplesaw

himinthechurch,becauhewasacripple,anditmightbepleasanttothemtorememberuponChristmas

Day,whomadelamebeggarswalk,andblindmene.”

Bob’svoicewastremulouswhenhetoldthemthis,andtrembledmorewhenhesaidthatTinyTim

wasgrowingstrongandhearty.

Hisactivelittlecrutchwashearduponthefloor,andbackcameTinyTimbeforeanotherwordwas

spoken,escortedbyhisbrotherandsistertohisstoolbeforethefire;andwhileBob,turninguphis

cuffs—asif,poorfellow,theywerecapableofbeingmademoreshabby—compoundedsomehotmixture

inajugwithginandlemons,andstirreditroundandroundandputitonthehobtosimmer;MasterPeter,

andthetwoubiquitousyoungCratchitswenttofetchthegoo,withwhichtheysoonreturnedinhigh

procession.

Suchabustleensuedthatyoumighthavethoughtagootherarestofallbirds;afeathered

phenomenon,towhichablackswanwasamatterofcour;andintruthitwassomethingverylikeitin

tchitmadethegravy(readybeforehandinalittlesaucepan)hissinghot;MasterPeter

mashedthepotatoeswithincrediblevigour;MissBelindasweeteneduptheapple-sauce;Marthadustedthe

hotplates;BobtookTinyTimbesidehiminatinycorneratthetable;thetwoyoungCratchitstchairs

foreverybody,notforgettingthemlves,andmountingguardupontheirposts,crammedspoonsintotheir

23

mouths,thedisheswereton,

ucceededbyabreathlesspau,asMrsCratchit,lookingslowlyallalongthe

carving-knife,preparedtoplungeitinthebreast;butwhenshedid,andwhenthelongexpectedgushof

stuffingissuedforth,onemurmurofdelightaroallroundtheboard,andevenTinyTim,excitedbythe

twoyoungCratchits,beatonthetablewiththehandleofhisknife,andfeeblycriedHurrah!

dhedidn’

tendernessandflavour,sizeandcheapness,tby

apple-sauceandmashedpotatoes,itwasasufficientdinnerforthewholefamily;indeed,asMrsCratchit

saidwithgreatdelight(surveyingonesmallatomofaboneuponthedish),theyhadn’tateitallatlast!Yet

everyonehadhadenough,andtheyoungestCratchitsinparticular,weresteepedinsageandoniontothe

eyebrows!Butnow,theplatesbeingchangedbyMissBelinda,MrsCratchitlefttheroomalone—too

nervoustobearwitness—totakethepuddingup,andbringitin.

Suppoitshouldnotbedoneenough!Suppoitshouldbreakinturningout!Supposomebody

shouldhavegotoverthewalloftheback-yard,andstolenit,whiletheyweremerrywiththegoo:a

suppositionatwhichthetwoyoungCratchitsbecamelivid!Allsortsofhorrorsweresuppod.

Hallo!Agreatdealofsteam!likeawashing-day!That

likeaneating-houandapastrycook’snextdoortoeachother,withalaundress’s

nextdoortothat!aminuteMrsCratchitentered:flushed,butsmiling

proudly:withthepudding,likeaspeckledcannon-ball,sohardandfirm,blazinginhalfofhalf-a-quartern

ofignitedbrandy,andbedightwithChristmashollystuckintothetop.

Oh,awonderfulpudding!BobCratchitsaid,andcalmlytoo,thatheregardeditasthegreatest

tchitsaidthatnowtheweightwasoffher

mind,odyhadsomethingto

sayaboutit,dhavebeen

tchitwouldhaveblushedtohintatsuchathing.

Atlastthedinnerwasalldone,theclothwascleared,thehearthswept,

compoundinthejugbeingtasted,andconsideredperfect,applesandorangeswereputuponthetable,and

ltheCratchitfamilydrewroundthehearth,inwhatBob

Cratchitcalledacircle,meaninghalfaone;andatBobCratchit’lbowstoodthefamilydisplayofglass;

twotumblers,andacustard-cupwithoutahandle.

Theheldthehotstufffromthejug,however,aswellasgoldengobletswouldhavedone;andBob

rveditoutwithbeaminglooks,b

propod:

“AMerryChristmastousall,ssus!”

Whichallthefamilyre-echoed.

“Godblessuveryone!”saidTinyTim,thelastofall.

Hesatveryclotohisfather’dhiswitheredlittlehandinhis,asif

helovedthechild,andwishedtokeephimbyhisside,anddreadedthathemightbetakenfromhim.

“Spirit,”saidScrooge,withaninteresthehadneverfeltbefore,“tellmeifTinyTimwilllive.”

“Ieavacantat,”repliedtheGhost,“inthepoorchimney-corner,andacrutchwithoutanowner,

eshadowsremainunalteredbytheFuture,thechildwilldie.”

“No,no,”saidScrooge.“Oh,no,kindSpirit!sayhewillbespared.”

“IftheshadowsremainunalteredbytheFuture,noneotherofmyrace,”returnedtheGhost,“will

en?Ifhebeliketodie,hehadbetterdoit,anddecreathesurpluspopulation.”

ScroogehunghisheadtohearhisownwordsquotedbytheSpirit,andwasovercomewithpenitence

andgrief.

“Man,”saidtheGhost,“ifmanyoubeinheart,notadamant,forbearthatwickedcantuntilyouhave

discoveredWhatthesurplusis,udecidewhatmenshalllive,whatmenshalldie?

24

Itmaybe,thatinthesightofHeaven,youaremoreworthlessandlessfittolivethanmillionslikethis

poorman’!toheartheInctontheleafpronouncingonthetoomuchlifeamonghis

hungrybrothersinthedust!”

ScroogebentbeforetheGhost’srebuke,aid

themspeedily,onhearinghisownname.

“MrScrooge!”saidBob;“I’llgiveyouMrScrooge,theFounderoftheFeast!”

“TheFounderoftheFeastindeed!”criedMrsCratchit,reddening.“IwishIhadhimhere.I’dgive

himapieceofmymindtofeastupon,andIhopehe’dhaveagoodappetiteforit.”

“Mydear,”saidBob,“thechildren;ChristmasDay.”

“ItshouldbeChristmasDay,Iamsure,”saidshe,“onwhichonedrinksthehealthofsuchanodious,

stingy,hard,wheis,Robert!Nobodyknowsitbetterthanyoudo,

poorfellow!”

“Mydear,”wasBob’smildanswer,“ChristmasDay.”

“I’lldrinkhishealthforyoursakeandtheDay’s,”saidMrsCratchit,“fetohim.A

merryChristmasandahappynewyear!He’llbeverymerryandveryhappy,Ihavenodoubt!”

hefirstoftheirproceedingswhichhadnoheartiness.

TinyTimdrankitlastofall,buthedidn’

mentionofhisnamecastadarkshadowontheparty,whichwasnotdispelledforfullfiveminutes.

Afterithadpasdaway,theyweretentimesmerrierthanbefore,fromthemerereliefofScroogethe

tchittoldthemhowhehadasituationinhiyeforMasterPeter,which

wouldbringin,ifobtained,youngCratchitslaughedtremendously

attheideaofPeter’sbeingamanofbusiness;andPeterhimlflookedthoughtfullyatthefirefrom

betweenhiscollars,asifheweredeliberatingwhatparticularinvestmentsheshouldfavourwhenhecame

,whowasapoorapprenticeatamilliner’s,thentold

themwhatkindofworkshehadtodo,andhowmanyhourssheworkedatastretch,andhowshemeantto

liea-bedto-morrowmorningforagoodlongrest;

howshehadenacountessandalordsomedaysbefore,andhowthelord“wasmuchaboutastallas

Peter;”atwhichPeterpulleduphiscollarssohighthatyoucouldn’thaveenhisheadifyouhadbeen

stimethechesnutsandthejugwentroundandround;andbyeandbyetheyhadasong,about

alostchildtravellinginthesnow,fromTinyTim;whohadaplaintivelittlevoice,andsangitverywell

indeed.

renotahandsomefamily;theywerenotwelldresd;

theirshoeswerefarfrombeingwater-proof;theirclotheswerescanty;andPetermighthaveknown,and

verylikelydid,theinsideofapawnbroker’,theywerehappy,grateful,pleadwithoneanother,and

contentedwiththetime;andwhentheyfaded,andlookedhappieryetinthebrightsprinklingsofthe

Spirit’storchatparting,Scroogehadhiyeuponthem,andespeciallyonTinyTim,untilthelast.

Bythistimeitwasgettingdark,andsnowingprettyheavily;andasScroogeandtheSpiritwentalong

thestreets,thebrightnessoftheroaringfiresinkitchens,parlours,andallsortsofrooms,waswonderful.

Here,theflickeringoftheblazeshowedpreparationsforacosydinner,withhotplatesbakingthroughand

throughbeforethefire,anddeepredcurtains,ll

thechildrenofthehouwererunningoutintothesnowtomeettheirmarriedsisters,brothers,cousins,

uncles,aunts,,again,wereshadowsonthewindow-blindofguests

asmbling;andthereagroupofhandsomegirls,allhoodedandfur-booted,andallchatteringatonce,

trippedlightlyofftosomenearneighbour’shou;where,woeuponthesinglemanwhosawthem

enter—artfulwitches,welltheyknewit—inaglow!

But,ifyouhadjudgedfromthenumbersofpeopleontheirwaytofriendlygatherings,youmight

havethoughtthatnoonewasathometogivethemwelcomewhentheygotthere,insteadofeveryhou

expectingcompany,ngsonit,howtheGhostexulted!How

25

itbareditsbreadthofbreast,andopeneditscapaciouspalm,andfloatedon,outpouring,withagenerous

hand,itsbrightandharmlessmirthoneverythingwithinitsreach!Theverylamplighter,whoranonbefore,

dottingtheduskystreetwithspecksoflight,andwhowasdresdtospendtheeveningsomewhere,

laughedoutloudlyastheSpiritpasd:thoughlittlekennedthelamplighterthathehadanycompanybut

Christmas!

Andnow,withoutawordofwarningfromtheGhost,theystooduponableakanddertmoor,where

monstrousmassofrudestonewerecastabout,asthoughitweretheburial-placeofgiants;andwater

spreaditlfwheresoeveritlisted;orwouldhavedoneso,butforthefrostthathelditprisoner;and

nothinggrewbutmossandfurze,andcoar,thewestthettingsunhadleftastreak

offieryred,whichglareduponthedesolationforaninstant,likeasulleneye,andfrowninglower,lower,

loweryet,waslostinthethickgloomofdarkestnight.

“Whatplaceisthis?”askedScrooge.

“AplacewhereMinerslive,wholabourinthebowelsoftheearth,”returnedtheSpirit.“Butthey

!”

Alightshonefromthewindowofahut,gthroughthe

wallofmudandstone,,oldman

andwoman,withtheirchildrenandtheirchildren’schildren,andanothergenerationbeyondthat,all

man,inavoicethatldomroabovethehowlingofthe

winduponthebarrenwaste,wassingingthemaChristmassong:ithadbeenaveryoldsongwhenhewas

aboy;lyastheyraidtheirvoices,theoldman

gotquiteblitheandloud;andsosurelyastheystopped,hisvigoursankagain.

TheSpiritdidnottarryhere,butbadeScroogeholdhisrobe,andpassingonabovethemoor,sped

whither?Nottoa?oge’shorror,lookingback,hesawthelastoftheland,afrightful

rangeofrocks,behindthem;andhiarsweredeafenedbythethunderingofwater,asitrolled,androared,

andragedamongthedreadfulcavernsithadworn,andfiercelytriedtounderminetheearth.

Builtuponadismalreefofsunkenrocks,someleagueorsofromshore,onwhichthewaterschafed

anddashed,thewildyearthrough,eapsofa-weedclungtoits

ba,andstorm-birds—bornofthewindonemightsuppo,asa-weedofthewater—roandfellabout

it,likethewavestheyskimmed.

Butevenhere,twomenwhowatchedthelighthadmadeafire,thatthroughtheloopholeinthethick

gtheirhornyhandsovertheroughtableat

whichtheysat,theywishedeachotherMerryChristmasintheircanofgrog;andoneofthem:theelder,

too,withhisfacealldamagedandscarredwithhardweather,asthefigure-headofanoldshipmightbe:

struckupasturdysongthatwaslikeaGaleinitlf.

AgaintheGhostspedon,abovetheblackandheavinga—on,on—until,beingfaraway,ashetold

Scrooge,fromanyshore,oodbesidethehelmsmanatthewheel,thelook-out

inthebow,theofficerswhohadthewatch;dark,ghostlyfiguresintheirveralstations;buteveryman

amongthemhummedaChristmastune,orhadaChristmasthought,orspokebelowhisbreathtohis

companionofsomebygoneChristmasDay,rymanon

board,wakingorsleeping,goodorbad,hadhadakinderwordforanotheronthatdaythanonanydayin

theyear;andhadsharedtosomeextentinitsfestivities;andhadrememberedthohecaredforata

distance,andhadknownthattheydelightedtorememberhim.

ItwasagreatsurpritoScrooge,whilelisteningtothemoaningofthewind,andthinkingwhata

solemnthingitwastomoveonthroughthelonelydarknessoveranunknownabyss,whodepthswere

cretsasprofoundasDeath:itwasagreatsurpritoScrooge,whilethungaged,tohearaheartylaugh.

ItwasamuchgreatersurpritoScroogetorecogniitashisownnephew’sandtofindhimlfina

bright,dry,gleamingroom,withtheSpiritstandingsmilingbyhisside,andlookingatthatsamenephew

withapprovingaffability!

26

“Ha,ha!”laughedScrooge’snephew.“Ha,ha,ha!”

Ifyoushouldhappen,byanyunlikelychance,toknowamanmoreblestinalaughthanScrooge’s

nephew,allIcansayis,ucehimtome,andI’llcultivatehis

acquaintance.

Itisafair,even-handed,nobleadjustmentofthings,thatwhilethereisinfectionindiaandsorrow,

thereisnorooge’s

nephewlaughedinthisway:holdinghissides,rollinghishead,andtwistinghisfaceintothemost

extravagantcontortions:Scrooge’sniece,bymarriage,irasmbled

friendsbeingnotabitbehindhand,roaredoutlustily.

“Ha,ha!Ha,ha,ha,ha!”

“HesaidthatChristmaswasahumbug,asIlive!”criedScrooge’snephew.“Hebelievedittoo!”

“Moreshameforhim,Fred!”saidScrooge’sniece,howomen;theyneverdo

ealwaysinearnest.

Shewasverypretty:impled,surprid-looking,capitalface;aripelittle

mouth,thatemedmadetobekisd—asnodoubtitwas;allkindsofgoodlittledotsaboutherchin,that

meltedintooneanotherwhenshelaughed;andthesunniestpairofeyesyoueversawinanylittle

creature’thershewaswhatyouwouldhavecalledprovoking,youknow;butsatisfactory,too.

Oh,perfectlysatisfactory!

“He’sacomicaloldfellow,”saidScrooge’snephew,“that’sthetruth:andnotsopleasantashemight

r,hisoffencescarrytheirownpunishment,andIhavenothingtosayagainsthim.”

“I’msureheisveryrich,Fred,”hintedScrooge’sniece.“Atleastyoualwaystellmeso.”

“Whatofthat,mydear!”saidScrooge’snephew.“’tdoany

’’tthesatisfactionofthinking—ha,ha,

ha!—thatheivergoingtobenefitUswithit.”

“Ihavenopatiencewithhim,”obrvedScrooge’e’sniece’ssisters,andalltheother

ladies,expresdthesameopinion.

“Oh,Ihave!”saidScrooge’snephew.“Iamsorryforhim;Icouldn’

suffersbyhisillwhims?Himlf,,hetakesitintohisheadtodislikeus,andhewon’tcome

’stheconquence?Hedon’tlomuchofadinner.”

“Indeed,Ithinkhelosaverygooddinner,”interruptedScrooge’odyelsaidthe

same,andtheymustbeallowedtohavebeencompetentjudges,becautheyhadjusthaddinner;and,

withthedesrtuponthetable,wereclusteredroundthefire,bylamplight.

“Well!I’mverygladtohearit,”saidScrooge’snephew,“becauIhaven’tgreatfaithintheyoung

yousay,Topper?”

TopperhadclearlygothiyeupononeofScrooge’sniece’ssisters,forheansweredthatabachelor

wasawretchedoutcast,tScrooge’sniece’s

sister—theplumponewiththelacetucker:nottheonewiththeros—blushed.

“Dogoon,Fred,”saidScrooge’sniece,clappingherhands.“Heneverfinisheswhathebeginstosay.

Heissucharidiculousfellow!”

Scrooge’snephewrevelledinanotherlaugh,andasitwasimpossibletokeeptheinfectionoff;though

theplumpsistertriedhardtodoitwitharomaticvinegar;hixamplewasunanimouslyfollowed.

“Iwasonlygoingtosay,”saidScrooge’snephew,“thattheconquenceofhistakingadisliketous,

andnotmakingmerrywithus,is,asIthink,thathelossomepleasantmoments,whichcoulddohimno

ehelospleasantercompanionsthanhecanfindinhisownthoughts,eitherinhismouldy

oldoffice,ogivehimthesamechanceeveryyear,whetherhelikesitornot,

ailatChristmastillhedies,buthecan’thelpthinkingbetterofit—Idefyhim—if

hefindsmegoingthere,ingoodtemper,yearafteryear,andsayingUncleScrooge,howareyou?Ifitonly

putshimintheveintoleavehispoorclerkfiftypounds,that’ssomething;andIthinkIshookhim

27

yesterday.”

ngthoroughly

good-natured,andnotmuchcaringwhattheylaughedat,sothattheylaughedatanyrate,heencouraged

themintheirmerriment,andpasdthebottlejoyously.

Aftertea,ywereamusicalfamily,andknewwhattheywereabout,

whentheysungaGleeorCatch,Icanassureyou:especiallyTopper,whocouldgrowlawayinthebass

likeagoodone,andneverswellthelargeveinsinhisforehead,e’s

nieceplayedwellupontheharp;andplayedamongothertunesasimplelittleair(amerenothing:you

mightlearntowhistleitintwominutes),whichhadbeenfamiliartothechildwhofetchedScroogefrom

theboarding-school,isstrainofmusic

sounded,allthethingsthatGhosthadshownhim,cameuponhismind;hesoftenedmoreandmore;and

thoughtthatifhecouldhavelistenedtoitoften,yearsago,hemighthavecultivatedthekindnessoflife

forhisownhappinesswithhisownhands,withoutresortingtothexton’sspadethatburiedJacob

Marley.

Buttheydidn’whiletheyplayedatforfeits;foritisgood

tobechildrensometimes,andneverbetterthanatatChristmas,whenitsmightyFounderwasachild

!Therewasfirstagameatblind-man’morebelieve

ionis,thatitwasadonething

betweenhimandScrooge’snephew;hewent

afterthatplumpsisterinthelacetucker,ngdown

thefire-irons,tumblingoverthechairs,bumpingagainstthepiano,smotheringhimlfamongthecurtains,

wherevershewent,dn’tcatch

adfallenupagainsthim(assomeofthemdid),onpurpo,hewouldhavemadea

feintofendeavouringtoizeyou,whichwouldhavebeenanaffronttoyourunderstanding,andwould

encriedoutthatitwasn’tfair;andit

natlast,hecaughther;when,inspiteofallhersilkenrustlings,andherrapid

flutteringspasthim,hegotherintoacornerwhencetherewasnoescape;thenhisconductwasthemost

pretendingnottoknowher;hispretendingthatitwasnecessarytotouchherhead-dress,

andfurthertoassurehimlfofheridentitybypressingacertainringuponherfinger,andacertainchain

aboutherneck;wasvile,tshetoldhimheropinionofit,when,anotherblind-man

beinginoffice,theyweresoveryconfidentialtogether,behindthecurtains.

Scrooge’sniecewasnotoneoftheblind-man’sbuffparty,butwasmadecomfortablewithalarge

chairandafootstool,inasnugcorner,joined

intheforfeits,atthegameof

How,When,andWhere,shewasverygreat,andtothecretjoyofScrooge’snephew,beathersisters

hollow:thoughtheyweresharpgirlstoo,ighthavebeentwenty

peoplethere,youngandold,buttheyallplayed,andsodidScrooge;for,whollyforgettingintheinterest

hehadinwhatwasgoingon,thathisvoicemadenosoundintheirears,hesometimescameoutwithhis

guessquiteloud,andveyoftenguesdquiteright,too;forthesharpestneedle,bestWhitechapel,

warrantednottocutintheeye,wasnotsharperthanScrooge;bluntashetookitinhisheadtobe.

TheGhostwasgreatlypleadtofindhiminthismood,andlookeduponhimwithsuchfavour,that

stheSpiritsaidcouldnotbe

done.

“Hereisanewgame,”saidScrooge.“Onehalfhour,Spirit,onlyone!”

ItwasaGamecalledYesandNo,whereScrooge’snephewhadtothinkofsomething,andtherest

mustfindoutwhat;heonlyansweringtotheirquestionsyesorno,skfireof

questioningtowhichhewaxpod,elicitedfromhimthathewasthinkingofananimal,aliveanimal,

ratheradisagreeableanimal,asavageanimal,ananimalthatgrowledandgruntedsometimes,andtalked

28

sometimes,andlivedinLondon,andwalkedaboutthestreets,andwasn’tmadeashowof,andwasn’tled

byanybody,anddidn’tliveinamenagerie,andwasneverkilledinamarket,andwasnotahor,oranass,

oracow,orabull,oratiger,oradog,orapig,oracat,yfreshquestionthatwasputto

him,thisnephewburstintoafreshroaroflaughter;andwassoinexpressiblytickled,thathewasobliged

theplumpsister,fallingintoasimilarstate,criedout:

“Ihavefounditout!Iknowwhatitis,Fred!Iknowwhatitis!”

“Whatisit?”criedFred.

“It’syourUncleScro-o-o-o-oge!”

tionwastheuniversalntiment,thoughsomeobjectedthatthereply

to“Isitabear?”oughttohavebeen“Yes;”inasmuchasananswerinthenegativewassufficienttohave

divertedtheirthoughtsfromMrScrooge,supposingtheyhadeverhadanytendencythatway.

“Hehasgivenusplentyofmerriment,Iamsure,”saidFred,“anditwouldbeungratefulnottodrink

aglassofmulledwinereadytoourhandatthemoment;andIsay,“UncleScrooge!”“

“Well!UncleScrooge.”theycried.

“AMerryChristmasandaHappyNewYeartotheoldman,whateverheis!”saidScrooge’snephew.

“Hewouldn’ttakeitfromme,butmayhehaveit,crooge!”

UncleScroogehadimperceptiblybecomesogayandlightofheart,thathewouldhavepledgedthe

unconsciouscompanyinreturn,andthankedtheminaninaudiblespeech,iftheGhosthadgivenhimtime.

Butthewholescenepasdoffinthebreathofthelastwordspokenbyhisnephew;andheandtheSpirit

wereagainupontheirtravels.

Muchtheysaw,andfartheywent,andmanyhomestheyvisited,

Spiritstoodbesidesickbeds,andtheywerecheerful;onforeignlands,andtheywerecloathome;by

strugglingmen,andtheywerepatientintheirgreaterhope;bypoverty,hou,

hospital,andjail,inmiry’veryrefuge,wherevainmaninhislittlebriefauthorityhadnotmadefast

thedoorandbarredtheSpiritout,helefthisblessing,andtaughtScroogehisprecepts.

Itwasalongnight,ifitwereonlyanight;butScroogehadhisdoubtsofthis,becautheChristmas

Hotrange,too,that

whileScroogeremainedunalteredinhisoutwardform,theGhostgrewolder,ehad

obrvedthischange,butneverspokeofit,untiltheyleftachildren’sTwelfthNightparty,when,looking

attheSpiritastheystoodtogetherinanopenplace,henoticedthatitshairwasgrey.

“Arespirits’livessoshort?”askedScrooge.

“Mylifeuponthisglobe,isverybrief,”repliedtheGhost.“Itendsto-night.”

“To-night!”criedScrooge.

“!Thetimeisdrawingnear.”

Thechimeswereringingthethreequarterspastelevenatthatmoment.

“ForgivemeifIamnotjustifiedinwhatIask,”saidScrooge,lookingintentlyattheSpirit’srobe,

“butIesomethingstrange,andnotbelongingtoyourlf,ootora

claw!”

“Itmightbeaclaw,forthefleshthereisuponit,”wastheSpirit’ssorrowfulreply.“Lookhere.”

Fromthefoldingsofitsrobe,itbroughttwochildren;wretched,abject,frightful,hideous,mirable.

Theykneltdownatitsfeet,andclungupontheoutsideofitsgarment.

“Oh,Man!,look,downhere!”exclaimedtheGhost.

,meagre,ragged,scowling,wolfish;butprostrate,too,intheir

racefulyouthshouldhavefilledtheirfeaturesout,andtouchedthemwithitsfreshest

tints,astaleandshrivelledhand,likethatofage,hadpinched,andtwistedthem,andpulledtheminto

ngelsmighthavesatenthroned,devilslurked,ge,no

degradation,noperversionofhumanity,inanygrade,throughallthemysteriesofwonderfulcreation,has

monstershalfsohorribleanddread.

29

Scroogestartedback,themshowntohiminthisway,hetriedtosaytheywerefine

children,butthewordschokedthemlves,ratherthanbepartiestoalieofsuchenormousmagnitude.

“Spirit!aretheyyours?”Scroogecouldsaynomore.

“TheyareMan’s,”saidtheSpirit,lookingdownuponthem.“Andtheyclingtome,appealingfrom

themboth,andalloftheirdegree,butmost

ofallbewarethisboy,foronhisbrowIethatwrittenwhichisDoom,

it!”criedtheSpirit,stretchingoutitshandtowardsthecity.“Slanderthowhotellitye!Admititforyour

factiouspurpos,andmakeitwor!Andbidetheend!”

“Havetheynorefugeorresource?”criedScrooge.

“Aretherenoprisons?”saidtheSpirit,turningonhimforthelasttimewithhisownwords.“Are

therenoworkhous?”

Thebellstrucktwelve.

ScroogelookedabouthimfortheGhost,aststrokeceadtovibrate,he

rememberedthepredictionofoldJacobMarley,andliftinguphiyes,beheldasolemnPhantom,draped

andhooded,coming,likeamistalongtheground,towardshim.

Chapter4-TheLastoftheSpirits

ThePhantomslowly,gravely,came,Scroogebentdownuponhisknee;

forintheveryairthroughwhichthisSpiritmoveditemedtoscattergloomandmystery.

Itwasshroudedinadeepblackgarment,whichconcealeditshead,itsface,itsform,andleftnothing

thisitwouldhavebeendifficulttodetachitsfigurefrom

thenight,andparateitfromthedarknessbywhichitwassurrounded.

Hefeltthatitwastallandstatelywhenitcamebesidehim,andthatitsmysteriousprencefilledhim

nomore,fortheSpiritneitherspokenormoved.

“IamintheprenceoftheGhostofChristmasYetToCome?”saidScrooge.

TheSpiritanswerednot,butpointedonwardwithitshand.

“Youareabouttoshowmeshadowsofthethingsthathavenothappened,butwillhappeninthetime

beforeus,”Scroogepursued.“Isthatso,Spirit?”

Theupperportionofthegarmentwascontractedforaninstantinitsfolds,asiftheSpirithadinclined

stheonlyanswerhereceived.

Althoughwelludtoghostlycompanybythistime,Scroogefearedthesilentshapesomuchthathis

legstrembledbeneathhim,

Spiritpaudamoment,asobrvinghiscondition,andgivinghimtimetorecover.

lledhimwithavagueuncertainhorror,toknowthat

behindtheduskyshroud,therewereghostlyeyesintentlyfixeduponhim,whilehe,thoughhestretched

hisowntotheutmost,couldenothingbutaspectralhandandonegreatheapofblack.

“GhostoftheFuture!”heexclaimed,“know

yourpurpoistodomegood,andasIhopetolivetobeanothermanfromwhatIwas,Iampreparedto

bearyoucompany,unotspeaktome?”

dwaspointedstraightbeforethem.

“Leadon!”saidScrooge.“Leadon!Thenightiswaningfast,anditisprecioustimetome,Iknow.

Leadon,Spirit!”

efollowedintheshadowofitsdress,

whichborehimup,hethought,andcarriedhimalong.

Theyscarcelyemedtoenterthecity;forthecityratheremedtospringupaboutthem,and

retheywere,intheheartofit;onChange,amongstthemerchants;

whohurriedupanddown,andchinkedthemoneyintheirpockets,andconverdingroups,andlookedat

theirwatches,andtrifledthoughtfullywiththeirgreatgoldals;andsoforth,asScroogehadenthem

often.

30

ingthatthehandwaspointedto

them,Scroogeadvancedtolistentotheirtalk.

“No,”saidagreatfatmanwithamonstrouschin,“Idon’tknowmuchaboutit,

knowhe’sdead.”

“Whendidhedie?”inquiredanother.

“Lastnight,Ibelieve.”

“Why,whatwasthematterwithhim?”askedathird,takingavastquantityofsnuffoutofaverylarge

snuff-box.“Ithoughthe’dneverdie.”

“Godknows,”saidthefirst,withayawn.

“Whathashedonewithhismoney?”askedared-facedgentlemanwithapendulouxcrescenceon

theendofhisno,thatshooklikethegillsofaturkey-cock.

“Ihaven’theard,”saidthemanwiththelargechin,yawningagain.“LeftittohisCompany,perhaps.

Hehasn’’sallIknow.”

Thispleasantrywasreceivedwithagenerallaugh.

“It’slikelytobeaverycheapfuneral,”saidthesamespeaker;“foruponmylifeIdon’tknowof

ewemakeupapartyandvolunteer?”

“Idon’tmindgoingifalunchisprovided,”obrvedthegentlemanwiththeexcrescenceonhisno.

“ButImustbefed,ifImakeone.”

Anotherlaugh.

“Well,Iamthemostdisinterestedamongyou,afterall,”saidthefirstspeaker,“forIneverwearblack

gloves,’lloffertogo,ometothinkofit,I’mnot

atallsurethatIwasn’thismostparticularfriend;,

bye!”

Speakersandlistenersstrolledaway,eknewthemen,andlooked

towardstheSpiritforanexplanation.

elistenedagain,

thinkingthattheexplanationmightliehere.

Heknewthemen,also,remenofbusiness:verywealthy,andofgreat

adeapointalwaysofstandingwellintheiresteem:inabusinesspointofview,that

is;strictlyinabusinesspointofview.

“Howareyou?”saidone.

“Howareyou?”returnedtheother.

“Well!”saidthefirst.“OldScratchhasgothisownatlast,hey?”

“SoIamtold,”returnedthecond.“Cold,isn’tit?”

“’renotaskaiter,Isuppo?”

“rning!”

stheirmeeting,theirconversation,andtheirparting.

ScroogewasatfirstinclinedtobesurpridthattheSpiritshouldattachimportancetoconversations

apparentlysotrivial;butfeelingassuredthattheymusthavesomehiddenpurpo,hethimlfto

uldscarcelybesuppodtohaveanybearingonthedeathof

Jacob,hisoldpartner,forthatwasPast,andthisGhost’ldhethinkof

anyoneimmediatelyconnectedwithhimlf,hingdoubtingthatto

whomsoevertheyappliedtheyhadsomelatentmoralforhisownimprovement,heresolvedtotreasureup

everywordheheard,andeverythinghesaw;andespeciallytoobrvetheshadowofhimlfwhenit

adanexpectationthattheconductofhisfuturelfwouldgivehimthecluehemisd,

andwouldrenderthesolutionoftheriddleasy.

Helookedaboutinthatveryplaceforhisownimage;butanothermanstoodinhisaccustomedcorner,

andthoughtheclockpointedtohisusualtimeofdayforbeingthere,hesawnolikenessofhimlfamong

31

himlittlesurpri,however;forhehadbeen

revolvinginhismindachangeoflife,andthoughtandhopedhesawhisnew-bornresolutionscarriedout

inthis.

Quietanddark,besidehimstoodthePhantom,roudhimlf

fromhisthoughtfulquest,hefanciedfromtheturnofthehand,anditssituationinreferencetohimlf,

himshudder,andfeelverycold.

Theyleftthebusyscene,andwentintoanobscurepartofthetown,whereScroogehadnever

penetratedbefore,althoughherecogniditssituation,swerefoulandnarrow;

theshopsandhouswretched;thepeoplehalf-naked,drunken,slipshod,andarchways,like

somanycesspools,disgorgedtheiroffencesofsmell,anddirt,andlife,uponthestragglingstreets;andthe

wholequarterreekedwithcrime,withfilth,andmiry.

Farinthisdenofinfamousresort,therewasalow-browed,beetlingshop,belowapent-houroof,

whereiron,oldrags,bottles,bones,andgreasyoffal,efloorwithin,werepiledup

heapsofrustykeys,nails,chains,hinges,files,scales,weights,sthat

fewwouldliketoscrutiniwerebredandhiddeninmountainsofunemlyrags,massofcorruptedfat,

ginamongthewareshedealtin,byacharcoalstove,madeofoldbricks,

wasagrey-hairedrascal,nearlyventyyearsofage;whohadscreenedhimlffromthecoldairwithout,

byafrousycurtainingofmiscellaneoustatters,hunguponaline;andsmokedhispipeinalltheluxuryof

calmretirement.

ScroogeandthePhantomcameintotheprenceofthisman,justasawomanwithaheavybundle

hadscarcelyentered,whenanotherwoman,similarlyladen,cameintoo;and

shewasclolyfollowedbyamaninfadedblack,whowasnolessstartledbythesightofthem,thanthey

shortperiodofblankastonishment,inwhichtheold

manwiththepipehadjoinedthem,theyallthreeburstintoalaugh.

“Letthecharwomanalonetobethefirst!”criedshewhohadenteredfirst.“Letthelaundressaloneto

bethecond;andlettheundertaker’re,oldJoe,here’sachance!Ifwe

haven’tallthreemetherewithoutmeaningit!”

“Youcouldn’thavemetinabetterplace,”saidoldJoe,removinghispipefromhismouth.“Come

emadefreeofitlongago,youknow;andtheothertwoan’llI

!Howitskreeks!Therean’tsucharustybitofmetalintheplaceasitsown

hinges,Ibelieve;andI’msurethere’snosucholdboneshere,,ha!We’reallsuitabletoour

calling,we’totheparlour.”

manrakedthefiretogetherwithanold

stair-rod,andhavingtrimmedhissmokylamp(foritwasnight),withthestemofhispipe,putitinhis

mouthagain.

Whilehedidthis,thewomanwhohadalreadyspokenthrewherbundleonthefloor,andsatdownin

aflauntingmanneronastool;crossingherelbowsonherknees,andlookingwithabolddefianceatthe

othertwo.

“Whatoddsthen!Whatodds,MrsDilber?”saidthewoman.“Everypersonhasarighttotakecareof

ysdid!”

“That’strue,indeed!”saidthelaundress.“Nomanmoreso.”

“Whythen,don’tstandstaringasifyouwasafraid,woman;who’sthewir?We’renotgoingtopick

holesineachother’scoats,Isuppo?”

“No,indeed!”saidMrsDilberandthemantogether.“Weshouldhopenot.”

“Verywell,then!”criedthewoman.“That’’stheworforthelossofafewthingslike

the?Notadeadman,Isuppo.”

“No,indeed!”saidMrsDilber,laughing.

“Ifhewantedtokeep‘emafterhewasdead,awickedoldscrew,”pursuedthewoman,“whywasn’t

32

henaturalinhislifetime?Ifhehadbeen,he’dhavehadsomebodytolookafterhimwhenhewasstruck

withDeath,insteadoflyinggaspingouthislastthere,alonebyhimlf.”

“It’sthetruestwordthateverwasspoke,”saidMrsDilber.“It’sajudgmentonhim.”

“Iwishitwasalittleheavierjudgment,”repliedthewoman;“anditshouldhavebeen,youmay

dependuponit,atbundle,oldJoe,andletmeknow

utplain.I’mnotafraidtobethefirst,pretty

wellthatwewerehelpingourlves,beforewemethere,’ebundle,Joe.”

Butthegallantryofherfriendswouldnotallowofthis;andthemaninfadedblack,mountingthe

breachfirst,rtwo,apencil-ca,apairof

sleeve-buttons,andabroochofnogreatvalue,reverallyexaminedandappraidby

oldJoe,whochalkedthesumshewasdispodtogiveforeach,uponthewall,andaddedthemupintoa

totalwhenhefoundtherewasnothingmoretocome.

“That’syouraccount,”saidJoe,“andIwouldn’tgiveanothersixpence,ifIwastobeboiledfornot

’snext?”

andtowels,alittlewearingapparel,twoold-fashionedsilverteaspoons,a

pairofsugar-tongs,ountwasstatedonthewallinthesamemanner.

“’saweaknessofmine,andthat’sthewayIruinmylf,”saidold

Joe.“That’skedmeforanotherpenny,andmadeitanopenquestion,I’drepentof

beingsoliberalandknockoffhalf-a-crown.”

“Andnowundomybundle,Joe,”saidthefirstwoman.

Joewentdownonhiskneesforthegreaterconvenienceofopeningit,andhavingunfastenedagreat

manyknots,draggedoutalargeandheavyrollofsomedarkstuff.

“Whatdoyoucallthis.”saidJoe.“Bed-curtains!”

“Ah!”returnedthewoman,laughingandleaningforwardonhercrosdarms.“Bed-curtains!”

“Youdon’tmeantosayyoutookthemdown,ringsandall,withhimlyingthere?”saidJoe.

“YesIdo,”repliedthewoman.“Whynot?”

“Youwereborntomakeyourfortune,”saidJoe,“andyou’llcertainlydoit.”

“Icertainlyshan’tholdmyhand,whenIcangetanythinginitbyreachingitout,forthesakeofsuch

amanasHewas,Ipromiyou,Joe,”returnedthewomancoolly.“don’tdropthatoilupontheblankets,

now.”

“Hisblankets?”askedJoe.

“Whoel’sdoyouthink?”repliedthewoman.“Heisn’tlikelytotakecoldwithout‘em,Idare

say.”

“Ihopehedidn’tdieofanythingcatching?Eh?”saidoldJoe,stoppinginhiswork,andlookingup.

“Don’tyoubeafraidofthat,”returnedthewoman.“Ian’tsofondofhiscompanythatI’dloiterabout

himforsuchthings,!youmaylookthroughthatshirttillyoureyesache;butyouwon’tfinda

holeinit,’sthebesthehad,’dhavewastedit,ifithadn’t

beenforme.”

“Whatdoyoucallwastingofit?”askedoldJoe.

“Puttingitonhimtobeburiedin,tobesure,”repliedthewomanwithalaugh.“Somebodywasfool

enoughtodoit,coan’tgoodenoughforsuchapurpo,itisn’tgoodenough

’’tlookuglierthanhedidinthatone.”

satgroupedabouttheirspoil,inthescantylight

affordedbytheoldman’slamp,heviewedthemwithadetestationanddisgust,whichcouldhardlyhave

beengreater,thoughtheyhadbeenobscenedemons,marketingthecorpitlf.

“Ha,ha!”laughedthesamewoman,whenoldJoe,producingaflannelbagwithmoneyinit,toldout

theirveralgainsupontheground.“Thisistheendofit,youe!Hefrightenedeveryoneawayfromhim

whenhewasalive,toprofituswhenhewasdead!Ha,ha,ha!”

33

“Spirit!”saidScrooge,shudderingfromheadtofoot.“Ie,eofthisunhappyman

tendsthatway,ulHeaven,whatisthis!”

Herecoiledinterror,forthescenehadchanged,andnowhealmosttouchedabed:abare,uncurtained

bed:onwhich,beneatharaggedsheet,therelayasomethingcoveredup,which,thoughitwasdumb,

announceditlfinawfullanguage.

Theroomwasverydark,toodarktobeobrvedwithanyaccuracy,thoughScroogeglancedroundit

inobediencetoacretimpul,ight,risingintheouter

air,fellstraightuponthebed;andonit,plunderedandbereft,unwatched,unwept,uncaredfor,wasthe

bodyofthisman.

erwasso

carelesslyadjustedthattheslightestraisingofit,themotionofafingeruponScrooge’spart,wouldhave

ghtofit,felthoweasyitwouldbetodo,andlongedtodoit;buthadnomore

powertowithdrawtheveilthantodismissthespectreathisside.

Ohcold,cold,rigid,dreadfulDeath,tupthinealtarhere,anddressitwithsuchterrorsasthouhast

atthycommand:forthisisthydominion!Butoftheloved,revered,andhonouredhead,thoucanstnot

turnonehairtothydreadpurpos,tthatthehandisheavyandwillfall

downwhenrelead;itisnotthattheheartandpularestill;butthatthehandwasopen,generous,and

true;theheartbrave,warm,andtender;andthepulaman’,Shadow,strike!Andehisgood

deedsspringingfromthewound,tosowtheworldwithlifeimmortal.

NovoicepronouncedthewordsinScrooge’ars,andyetheheardthemwhenhelookeduponthe

ght,ifthismancouldberaidupnow,whatwouldbehisforemostthoughts?Avarice,

hard-dealing,gripingcares?Theyhavebroughthimtoarichend,truly!

Helay,inthedarkemptyhou,withnotaman,awoman,orachild,tosaythathewaskindtomein

thisorthat,stearingatthedoor,and

eywantedintheroomofdeath,and

whytheyweresorestlessanddisturbed,Scroogedidnotdaretothink.

“Spirit!”hesaid,“ingit,Ishallnotleaveitslesson,o!”

StilltheGhostpointedwithanunmovedfingertothehead.

“Iunderstandyou,”Scroogereturned,“andIwoulddoit,venotthepower,Spirit.I

havenotthepower.”

Againitemedtolookuponhim.

“Ifthereisanypersoninthetown,whofeelmotioncaudbythisman’sdeath,”saidScroogequite

agonid,“showthatpersontome,Spirit,Ibeechyou!”

ThePhantomspreaditsdarkrobebeforehimforamoment,likeawing;andwithdrawingit,revealed

aroombydaylight,whereamotherandherchildrenwere.

Shewaxpectingsomeone,andwithanxiouagerness;forshewalkedupanddowntheroom;

startedateverysound;lookedoutfromthewindow;glancedattheclock;tried,butinvain,toworkwith

herneedle;andcouldhardlybearthevoicesofthechildrenintheirplay.

riedtothedoor,andmetherhusband;aman

whofacewascarewornanddepresd,asaremarkableexpressioninit

now;akindofriousdelightofwhichhefeltashamed,andwhichhestruggledtorepress.

Hesatdowntothedinnerthathadbeenboardingforhimbythefire;andwhensheaskedhimfaintly

whatnews(whichwasnotuntilafteralongsilence),heappearedembarrasdhowtoanswer.

“Isitgood.”shesaid,“orbad?”—tohelphim.

“Bad,”heanswered.

“Wearequiteruined?”

“shopeyet,Caroline.”

“Ifherelents,”shesaid,amazed,“gispasthope,ifsuchamiraclehashappened.”

34

“Heispastrelenting,”saidherhusband.“Heisdead.”

Shewasamildandpatientcreatureifherfacespoketruth;butshewasthankfulinhersoultohearit,

andshesaidso,yedforgivenessthenextmoment,andwassorry;butthefirst

wastheemotionofherheart.

“Whatthehalf-drunkenwomanwhomItoldyouoflastnight,saidtome,whenItriedtoehimand

obtainaweek’sdelay;andwhatIthoughtwasamereexcutoavoidme;turnsouttohavebeenquitetrue.

Hewasnotonlyveryill,butdying,then.”

“Towhomwillourdebtbetransferred?”

“Idon’orethattimeweshallbereadywiththemoney;andeventhoughwewerenot,

itwleepto-night

withlighthearts,Caroline!”

itastheywould,ldren’sfaces,hushedandclustered

roundtohearwhattheysolittleunderstood,werebrighter;anditwasahappierhouforthisman’sdeath!

TheonlyemotionthattheGhostcouldshowhim,caudbytheevent,wasoneofpleasure.

“Letmeesometendernessconnectedwithadeath,”saidScrooge;“orthatdarkchamber,Spirit,

whichweleftjustnow,willbeforeverprenttome.”

TheGhostconductedhimthroughveralstreetsfamiliartohisfeet;andastheywentalong,Scrooge

lookedhereandtheretofindhimlf,teredpoorBobCratchit’s

hou;thedwellinghehadvisitedbefore;andfoundthemotherandthechildrenatedroundthefire.

sylittleCratchitswereasstillasstatuesinonecorner,andsatlookingupat

Peter,elythey

wereveryquiet!

““Andhetookachild,andthiminthemidstofthem.”“

WherehadScroogeheardthowords?musthavereadthemout,

henotgoon?

Themotherlaidherworkuponthetable,andputherhanduptoherface.

“Thecolourhurtsmyeyes,”shesaid.

Thecolour?Ah,poorTinyTim!

“They’rebetternowagain,”saidCratchit’swife.“Itmakesthemweakbycandle-light;andIwouldn’t

showweakeyestoyourfatherwhenhecomeshome,benearhistime.”

“Pastitrather,”Peteranswered,shuttinguphisbook.“ButIthinkhehaswalkedalittleslowerthan

heud,thefewlastevenings,mother.”

shesaid,andinasteady,cheerfulvoice,thatonlyfaulteredonce:

“Ihaveknownhimwalkwith—IhaveknownhimwalkwithTinyTimuponhisshoulder,veryfast

indeed.”

“AndsohaveI,”criedPeter.“Often.”

“AndsohaveI!”ll.

“Buthewasverylighttocarry,”sheresumed,intentuponherwork,“andhisfatherlovedhimso,that

itwasnotrouble:reisyourfatheratthedoor!”

Shehurriedouttomeethim;andlittleBobinhiscomforter—hehadneedofit,poorfellow—camein.

Histeawasreadyforhimonthehob,etwo

youngCratchitsgotuponhiskneesandlaid,eachchildalittlecheek,againsthisface,asiftheysaid,

“Don’tmindit,’tbegrieved!”

Bobwasverycheerfulwiththem,edattheworkupon

thetable,uldbedonelongbefore

Sunday,hesaid.

“Sunday!Youwentto-day,then,Robert?”saidhiswife.

“Yes,mydear,”returnedBob.“dhavedoneyougoodtoehow

35

’le,

littlechild!”criedBob.“Mylittlechild!”

dn’uldhavehelpedit,heandhischildwouldhave

beenfartherapartperhapsthantheywere.

Helefttheroom,andwentup-stairsintotheroomabove,whichwaslightedcheerfully,andhungwith

asachairtclobesidethechild,andthereweresignsofsomeonehavingbeen

there,bsatdowninit,andwhenhehadthoughtalittleandcompodhimlf,hekisdthe

econciledtowhathadhappened,andwentdownagainquitehappy.

Theydrewaboutthefire,andtalked;dthemofthe

extraordinarykindnessofMrScrooge’snephew,whomhehadscarcelyenbutonce,andwho,meeting

himinthestreetthatday,andeingthathelookedalittle—“justalittledownyouknow,”saidBob,

inquiredwhathadhappenedtodistresshim.“Onwhich,”saidBob,“forheisthepleasantest-spoken

gentlemanyoueverheard,Itoldhim.“Iamheartilysorryforit,MrCratchit,”hesaid,“andheartilysorry

foryourgoodwife.”Bythebye,howheeverknewthat,Idon’tknow.”

“Knewwhat,mydear?”

“Why,thatyouwereagoodwife,”repliedBob.

“Everybodyknowsthat.”saidPeter.

“Verywellobrved,myboy.”criedBob.“Ihopetheydo.“Heartilysorry,”hesaid,“foryourgood

beofrvicetoyouinanyway,”hesaid,givingmehiscard,“that’me

tome.”Now,itwasn’t,”criedBob,“forthesakeofanythinghemightbeabletodoforus,somuchasfor

hiskindway,lyemedasifhehadknownourTinyTim,andfeltwith

us.”

“I’msurehe’sagoodsoul!”saidMrsCratchit.

“Youwouldbesurerofit,mydear,”returnedBob,“dn’tbeatall

surprid,markwhatIsay,ifhegotPeterabettersituation.”

“Onlyhearthat,Peter,”saidMrsCratchit.

“Andthen,”criedoneofthegirls,“Peterwillbekeepingcompanywithsomeone,andttingupfor

himlf.”

“Getalongwithyou!”retortedPeter,grinning.

“It’sjustaslikelyasnot,”saidBob,“oneofthedays;thoughthere’splentyoftimeforthat,mydear.

Buthoweverandwheneverwepartfromoneanother,IamsureweshallnoneofusforgetpoorTiny

Tim—shallwe—orthisfirstpartingthattherewasamongus?”

“Never,father!”criedtheyall.

“AndIknow,”saidBob,“Iknow,mydears,thatwhenwerecollecthowpatientandhowmildhewas;

althoughhewasalittle,littlechild;weshallnotquarreleasilyamongourlves,andforgetpoorTinyTim

indoingit.”

“No,never,father!”theyallcriedagain.

“Iamveryhappy,”saidlittleBob,“Iamveryhappy!”

MrsCratchitkisdhim,hisdaughterskisdhim,thetwoyoungCratchitskisdhim,andPeterand

ofTinyTim,thychildishesncewasfromGod!

“Spectre,”saidScrooge,“t,butI

whatmanthatwaswhomwesawlyingdead?”

TheGhostofChristmasYetToComeconveyedhim,asbefore—thoughatadifferenttime,hethought:

indeed,thereemednoorderinthelattervisions,savethattheywereintheFuture—intotheresortsof

businessmen,,theSpiritdidnotstayforanything,butwentstraight

on,astotheendjustnowdesired,untilbesoughtbyScroogetotarryforamoment.

“Thiscourts,”saidScrooge,“throughwhichwehurrynow,iswheremyplaceofoccupationis,and

eholdwhatIshallbe,indaystocome.”

36

TheSpiritstopped;thehandwaspointedelwhere.

“Thehouisyonder,”Scroogeexclaimed.“Whydoyoupointaway?”

Theinexorablefingerunderwentnochange.

Scroogehastenedtothewindowofhisoffice,nofficestill,

furniturewasnotthesame,ntompointedasbefore.

Hejoineditonceagain,andwonderingwhyandwhitherhehadgone,accompaniedituntilthey

edtolookroundbeforeentering.

,then,thewretchedmanwhonamehehadnowtolearn,layunderneaththe

inbyhous;overrunbygrassandweeds,thegrowthof

vegetation’sdeath,notlife;chokedupwithtoomuchburying;yplace!

TheSpiritstoodamongthegraves,

Phantomwaxactlyasithadbeen,buthedreadedthathesawnewmeaninginitssolemnshape.

“BeforeIdrawnearertothatstonetowhichyoupoint,”saidScrooge,“

thetheshadowsofthethingsthatWillbe,oraretheyshadowsofthingsthatMaybe,only?”

StilltheGhostpointeddownwardtothegravebywhichitstood.

“Men’scourswillforeshadowcertainends,towhich,ifperveredin,theymustlead,”said

Scrooge.“Butifthecoursbedepartedfrom,sthuswithwhatyoushow

me!”

TheSpiritwasimmovableaver.

Scroogecrepttowardsit,tremblingashewent;andfollowingthefinger,readuponthestoneofthe

neglectedgravehisownname,EbenezerScrooge.

“AmIthatmanwholayuponthebed?”hecried,uponhisknees.

Thefingerpointedfromthegravetohim,andbackagain.

“No,Spirit!Ohno,no!”

Thefingerstillwasthere.

“Spirit!”hecried,tightclutchingatitsrobe,“hearme!otbethemanI

wmethis,ifIampastallhope?”

Forthefirsttimethehandappearedtoshake.

“GoodSpirit,”hepursued,asdownuponthegroundhefellbeforeit:“Yournatureintercedesforme,

methatIyetmaychangetheshadowsyouhaveshownme,byanalteredlife!”

Thekindhandtrembled.

“IwillhonourChristmasinmyheart,iveinthePast,thePrent,

otshutoutthelessonsthattheyteach.

Oh,tellmeImayspongeawaythewritingonthisstone!”

Inhisagony,httofreeitlf,buthewasstronginhintreaty,and

rit,strongeryet,repuldhim.

Holdinguphishandsinalastprayertohavehisfatereverd,hesawanalterationinthePhantom’s

nk,collapd,anddwindleddownintoabedpost.

Chapter5-TheEndofit

Yes!washisown,dhappiestof

all,thetimebeforehimwashisown,tomakeamendsin!

“IwillliveinthePast,thePrent,andtheFuture!”Scroogerepeated,ashescrambledoutofbed.

“bMarley!Heaven,andtheChristmasTimebe

praidforthis!Isayitonmyknees,oldJacob;onmyknees!”

Hewassoflutteredandsoglowingwithhisgoodintentions,thathisbrokenvoicewouldscarcely

eensobbingviolentlyinhisconflictwiththeSpirit,andhisfacewaswetwith

tears.

“Theyarenottorndown,”criedScrooge,foldingoneofhisbed-curtainsinhisarms,“theyarenot

37

torndown,ehere:Iamhere:theshadowsofthethingsthatwouldhavebeen,maybe

heywill!”

Hishandswerebusywithhisgarmentsallthistime:turningtheminsideout,puttingthemonupside

down,tearingthem,mislayingthem,makingthempartiestoeverykindofextravagance.

“Idon’tknowwhattodo!”criedScrooge,laughingandcryinginthesamebreath;andmakinga

perfectLaocoönofhimlfwithhisstockings.“Iamaslightasafeather,Iamashappyasanangel,Iam

Christmastoevery-body!AhappyNew

Yeartoalltheworld!Hallohere!Whoop!Hallo!”

Hehadfriskedintothesitting-room,andwasnowstandingthere:perfectlywinded.

“There’sthesaucepanthatthegruelwasin!”criedScrooge,startingoffagain,andgoingroundthe

fire-place.“There’sthedoor,bywhichtheGhostofJacobMarleyentered!There’sthecornerwherethe

GhostofChristmasPrent,sat!There’sthewindowwhereIsawthewanderingSpirits!It’sallright,it’s

alltrue,!”

Really,foramanwhohadbeenoutofpracticeforsomanyyears,itwasasplendidlaugh,amost

herofalong,longlineofbriliantlaughs!

“Idon’tknowwhatdayofthemonthitis!”saidScrooge.“Idon’tknowhowlongI’vebeenamong

’tknowanything.I’’tcare.I’!

Whoop!Hallohere!”

Hewascheckedinhistransportsbythechurchesringingoutthelustiestpealshehadeverheard.

Clash,clang,hammer,ding,dong,,dong,ding,hammer,clang,clash!Oh,glorious,glorious!

Runningtothewindow,heopenedit,andputouthisstirring,coldcold,pipingforthebloodtodance

to;Goldensunlight;Heavenlysky;sweetfreshair;,us!

“What’sto-day?”criedScrooge,callingdownwardtoaboyinSundayclothes,whoperhapshad

loiteredintolookabouthim.

“Eh?“returnedtheboy,withallhismightofwonder.

“What’sto-day,myfinefellow?”saidScrooge.

“To-day?”repliedtheboy.“Why,ChristmasDay.”

“It’sChristmasDay!”saidScroogetohimlf.“Ihaven‘ritshavedoneitallin

,myfinefellow!”

“Hallo!”returnedtheboy

“DoyouknowthePoulterer’s,inthenextstreetbutone,atthecorner?”Scroogeinquired.

“IshouldhopeIdid,”repliedthelad.

“Anintelligentboy!”saidScrooge.“Aremarkableboy!Doyouknowwhetherthey’vesoldtheprize

Turkeythatwashangingupthere?NotthelittleprizeTurkey;thebigone?”

“What,theoneasbigasme?”returnedtheboy.

“Whatadelightfulboy!”saidScrooge.“It’,mybuck!”

“It’shangingtherenow,”repliedtheboy.

“Isit?”saidScrooge.“Goandbuyit.”

“Walk-er!”exclaimedtheboy.

“No,no,”saidScrooge,“uyit,andtell‘emtobringithere,thatImaygive

ckwiththeman,andI’ckwith

himinlessthanfiveminutes,andI’llgiveyouhalf-a-crown!”

“I’llndittoBobCratchit’s!”whisperedScrooge,rubbinghishands,andsplittingwithalaugh.“He

sha’n’’lernevermadesuchajokeasndingit

toBob’swillbe!”

Thehandinwhichhewrotetheaddresswasnotasteadyone,butwriteithedid,somehow,andwent

downstairstoopenthestreetdoor,readyforthecomingofthepoulterer’oodthere,waiting

hisarrival,theknockercaughthiye.

38

“Ishallloveit,aslongasIlive!”criedScrooge,pattingitwithhishand.“Iscarcelyeverlookedatit

honestexpressionithasinitsface!It’sawonderfulknocker!—Here’!

Whoop!Howareyou!MerryChristmas!”

ItwasaTurkey!Henevercouldhavestooduponhislegs,dhavesnapped‘emshort

offinaminute,likesticksofaling-wax.

“Why,it’simpossibletocarrythattoCamdenTown,”saidScrooge.“Youmusthaveacab.”

Thechucklewithwhichhesaidthis,andthechucklewithwhichhepaidfortheTurkey,andthe

chucklewithwhichhepaidforthecab,andthechucklewithwhichherecompendtheboy,wereonlyto

beexceededbythechucklewithwhichhesatdownbreathlessinhischairagain,andchuckledtillhecried.

Shavingwasnotaneasytask,forhishandcontinuedtoshakeverymuch;andshavingrequires

attention,evenwhenyoudon’ehadcuttheendofhisnooff,hewould

haveputapieceofsticking-plasteroverit,andbeenquitesatisfied.

Hedresdhimlfallinhisbest,plewerebythistime

pouringforth,ashehadenthemwiththeGhostofChristmasPrent;andwalkingwithhishandsbehind

him,edsoirresistiblypleasant,inaword,that

threeorfourgood-humouredfellowssaid,“Goodmorning,sir!AmerryChristmastoyou!”AndScrooge

saidoftenafterwards,thatofalltheblithesoundshehadeverheard,thoweretheblithestinhiars.

Hehadnotgonefar,whencomingontowardshimhebeheldtheportlygentleman,whohadwalked

intohiscounting-houthedaybefore,andsaid,“ScroogeandMarley’s,Ibelieve?”Itntapangacross

hishearttothinkhowthisoldgentlemanwouldlookuponhimwhentheymet;butheknewwhatpathlay

straightbeforehim,andhetookit.

“Mydearsir,”saidScrooge,quickeninghispace,andtakingtheoldgentlemanbybothhishands.

“Howdoyoudo?Christmastoyou,sir!”

“MrScrooge?”

“Yes,”saidScrooge.“Thatismyname,etoaskyour

lyouhavethegoodness—”hereScroogewhisperedinhiar.

“Lordblessme!”criedthegentleman,asifhisbreathweregone.“MydearMrScrooge,areyou

rious?”

“Ifyouplea,”saidScrooge.“manyback-paymentsareincludedinit,I

udomethatfavour?”

“Mydearsir,”saidtheother,shakinghandswithhim.“Idon’tknowwhattosaytosuchmunifi—”

“Don’tsayanything,plea,”retortedScrooge.“ucomeandeme?”

“Iwill!”asclearhemeanttodoit.

“Thank‘ee,”saidScrooge.“ou!”

Hewenttochurch,andwalkedaboutthestreets,andwatchedthepeoplehurryingtoandfro,and

pattedchildrenonthehead,andquestionedbeggars,andlookeddownintothekitchensofhous,andup

tothewindows:everdreamedthatany

walk—thatanything—fternoonheturnedhisstepstowardshis

nephew’shou.

Hepasdthedooradozentimes,adeadash,

anddidit:

“Isyourmasterathome,mydear?”rl!Very.

“Yes,sir.”

“Whereishe,mylove?”saidScrooge.

“He’sinthedining-room,sir,alongwithmistress.I’llshowyouup-stairs,ifyouplea.”

“Thank‘sme,”saidScrooge,withhishandalreadyonthedining-roomlock.“I’llgoin

here,mydear.”

Heturneditgently,andsidledhisfacein,relookingatthetable(whichwas

39

spreadoutingreatarray);fortheyounghoukeepersarealwaysnervousonsuchpoints,andliketoe

thateverythingisright.

“Fred!”saidScrooge.

Dearheartalive,howhisniecebymarriagestarted!Scroogehadforgotten,forthemoment,abouther

sittinginthecornerwiththefootstool,orhewouldn’thavedoneit,onanyaccount.

“Whyblessmysoul!”criedFred,“who’sthat?”

“It’uletmein,Fred?”

Lethimin!Itisamercyhedidn’gcould

heplumpsisterwhenshe

fulparty,wonderfulgames,wonderfulunanimity,

won-der-fulhappiness!

,uldonlybetherefirst,and

catchBobCratchitcominglate!Thatwasthethinghehadthisheartupon.

Andhedidit;yeshedid!ull

eighteenminutesandahalf,esatwithhisdoorwideopen,thathemightehim

comeintotheTank.

Hishatwasoff,beforeheopenedthedoor;nhisstoolinajiffy;driving

awaywithhispen,asifheweretryingtoovertakenineo’clock.

“Hallo!”growledScrooge,inhisaccustomedvoice,asnearashecouldfeignit.“Whatdoyoumean

bycominghereatthistimeofday.”

“Iamverysorry,sir,”saidBob.“Iambehindmytime.”

“Youare?”repeatedScrooge.“isway,ifyouplea.”

“It’sonlyonceayear,sir,”pleadedBob,appearingfromtheTank.“

makingrathermerryyesterday,sir.”

“Now,I’lltellyouwhat,myfriend,”saidScrooge,“Iamnotgoingtostandthissortofthingany

refore,”hecontinued,leapingfromhisstool,andgivingBobsuchadiginthewaistcoat

thathestaggeredbackintotheTankagain:“andthereforeIamabouttoraiyoursalary!”

Bobtrembled,momentaryideaofknockingScroogedown

withit;holdinghim,andcallingtothepeopleinthecourtforhelpandastrait-waistcoat.

“AmerryChristmas,Bob!”saidScrooge,withanearnestnessthatcouldnotbemistaken,ashe

clappedhimontheback.“AmerrierChristmas,Bob,mygoodfellow,thanIhavegivenyouformanya

year!I’llraiyoursalary,andendeavourtoassistyourstrugglingfamily,andwewilldiscussyouraffairs

thisveryafternoon,overaChristmasbowlofsmokingbishop,Bob!Makeupthefires,andbuyanother

coal-scuttlebeforeyoudotanotheri,BobCratchit.”

tall,andinfinitelymore;andtoTinyTim,whodidnotdie,

measgoodafriend,asgoodamaster,andasgoodaman,asthegoodold

cityknew,oranyothergoodoldcity,town,orborough,oplelaughedtoe

thealterationinhim,butheletthemlaugh,andlittleheededthem;forhewaswienoughtoknowthat

nothingeverhappenedonthisglobe,forgood,atwhichsomepeopledidnothavetheirfilloflaughterin

theoutt;andknowingthatsuchasthewouldbeblindanyway,hethoughtitquiteaswellthatthey

shouldwrinkleuptheireyesingrins,heartlaughed:

andthatwasquiteenoughforhim.

HehadnofurtherintercourwithSpirits,butlivedupontheTotalAbstinencePrinciple,ever

afterwards;anditwasalwayssaidofhim,thatheknewhowtokeepChristmaswell,ifanymanalive

tbetrulysaidofus,andallofus!Andso,asTinyTimobrved,God

BlessUs,EveryOne!