A Christmas Carol in Prose; Being a Ghost Story of Christmas

o be told that the bell was again upon the stroke of One. He felt that he was restored to consciousness in the right nick of time,

, he put them every one aside with his own hands; and lying down again, established a sharp look-out all round the bed. For

that they are good for anything from pitch-and-toss to manslaughter; between which opposite extremes, no doubt, there lies a tolerably wide and comprehensive range of subjects. Without venturing for Scrooge qui

proclaimed the hour; and which, being only light, was more alarming than a dozen ghosts, as he was powerless to make out what it meant, or would be at; and was sometimes apprehensive that he might be at that very moment an interesting case of spontaneous combustion, without having the consolation of knowing it. At last, however, he began to think—as you or I would have thought at first; for it is al

lock, a strange voice called him by h

mighty blaze went roaring up the chimney, as that dull petrification of a hearth had never known in Scrooge’s time, or Marley’s, or for many and many a winter season gone. Heaped up on the floor, to form a kind of throne, were turkeys, geese, game, poultry, brawn, great joints of meat, sucking-pigs, long wreaths of sausages, mince-pies, plum-puddings, barrels of oysters, red-hot chest

he Ghost. “Come in! an

. He was not the dogged Scrooge he had been; and though the S

stmas Present,” said th

ifice. Its feet, observable beneath the ample folds of the garment, were also bare; and on its head it wore no other covering than a holly wreath, set here and there with shining icicles. Its dark brown curls were long and free; free as

’s Thir

he like of me before!”

rooge made

my family; meaning (for I am very young) my elder bro

oge. “I am afraid I have not. Hav

teen hundred,”

ly to provide for!

Christmas P

t forth last night on compulsion, and I learnt a lesson which is worki

h my

he was told, an

e hour of night, and they stood in the city streets on Christmas morning, where (for the weather was severe) the people made a rough, but brisk and not unpleasant kind of music, in scraping the snow from the

ndreds of times where the great streets branched off; and made intricate channels, hard to trace in the thick yellow mud and icy water. The sky was gloomy, and the shortest streets were choked up with a dingy mist, half thawed, half frozen, whose heavier particles descended in a shower of sooty atoms, as if all the

opulence. There were ruddy, brown-faced, broad-girthed Spanish Onions, shining in the fatness of their growth like Spanish Friars, and winking from their shelves in wanton slyness at the girls as they went by, and glanced demurely at the hung-up mistletoe. There were pears and apples, clustered high in blooming pyramids; there were bunches of grapes, made, in the shopkeepers’ benevolence to dangle from conspicuous hooks, that people’s mouths might water gratis as they passed; there were piles of filberts, mossy and brown, recalling, in their fragrance, ancient walks among the woo

hite, the sticks of cinnamon so long and straight, the other spices so delicious, the candied fruits so caked and spotted with molten sugar as to make the coldest lookers-on feel faint and subsequently bilious. Nor was it that the figs were moist and pulpy, or that the French plums blushed in modest tartness from their highly-decorated boxes, or that everything was good to eat and in its Christmas dress; but the customers were all so hurried and so eager in the hopeful promise of the

ners to the bakers’ shops. The sight of these poor revellers appeared to interest the Spirit very much, for he stood with Scrooge beside him in a baker’s doorway, and taking off the covers as their bearers passed, sprinkled incense on their dinners from his torch. And it was a very uncommon kind of

ng forth of all these dinners and the progress of their cooking, in the thawed blotch of

r in what you sprinkle from

is. M

kind of dinner on thi

given. To a p

r one most?”

it needs

u, of all the beings in the many worlds about us, should desir

ied the

y seventh day, often the only day on which they can b

ied the

n the Seventh Day?” said Scrooge.

exclaimed

en done in your name, or at least in

s of passion, pride, ill-will, hatred, envy, bigotry, and selfishness in our name, who are as strange to us and

the Ghost (which Scrooge had observed at the baker’s), that notwithstanding his gigantic size, he could accommodate himself to any place with ease;

rooge’s clerk’s; for there he went, and took Scrooge with him, holding to his robe; and on the threshold of the door the Spirit smiled, and stopped to bless Bob Cratchit’s dwelling with the sprinkling of

the corners of his monstrous shirt collar (Bob’s private property, conferred upon his son and heir in honour of the day) into his mouth, rejoiced to find himself so gallantly attired, and yearned to show his linen in the fashionable Parks. And now two smaller Cratchits, boy and girl, came tearing in, screaming that outside the baker’s they had smelt the

Mrs. Cratchit. “And your brother, Tiny Tim! And Mart

er!” said a girl, ap

the two young Cratchits. “Hurra

” said Mrs. Cratchit, kissing her a dozen times, and tak

st night,” replied the girl, “and ha

aid Mrs. Cratchit. “Sit ye down before the fi

the two young Cratchits, who were eve

e fringe, hanging down before him; and his threadbare clothes darned up and brushed, to look seasonable; and Tin

rtha?” cried Bob Cra

,” said Mrs

pirits; for he had been Tim’s blood horse all the way from chu

from behind the closet door, and ran into his arms, while the two young Cratchits hustled Tiny

it, when she had rallied Bob on his credulity, and

est things you ever heard. He told me, coming home, that he hoped the people saw him in the church, because he was a cr

em this, and trembled more when he said t

d while Bob, turning up his cuffs—as if, poor fellow, they were capable of being made more shabby—compounded some hot mixture in a jug with gin and lemons, and stirred it ro

le-sauce; Martha dusted the hot plates; Bob took Tiny Tim beside him in a tiny corner at the table; the two young Cratchits set chairs for everybody, not forgetting themselves, and mounting guard upon their posts, crammed spoons into their mouths, lest they should shriek for goose before their turn came to be helped. At last the dishes were set on, and grace was said. It was suc

it was a sufficient dinner for the whole family; indeed, as Mrs. Cratchit said with great delight (surveying one small atom of a bone upon the dish), they hadn’t ate it all at last! Yet every one had had enough, and the younges

ould have got over the wall of the back-yard, and stolen it, while they were merry with the goose

next door to each other, with a laundress’s next door to that! That was the pudding! In half a minute Mrs. Cratchit entered—flushed, but smiling proudly—with the

t said that now the weight was off her mind, she would confess she had had her doubts about the quantity of flour. Everybody had something to say about it, but nobo

, apples and oranges were put upon the table, and a shovel-full of chestnuts on the fire. Then all the Cratchit family drew round the hearth, in what Bob Cr

ts would have done; and Bob served it out with beaming looks, while the

to us all, my dea

the family

one!” said Tiny Ti

his withered little hand in his, as if he loved the child, and wished

nterest he had never felt before,

orner, and a crutch without an owner, carefully preserved. If th

“Oh, no, kind Spirit!

ace,” returned the Ghost, “will find him here. What then? If he be l

n words quoted by the Spirit, and wa

. Will you decide what men shall live, what men shall die? It may be, that in the sight of Heaven, you are more worthless and less fit to live than

embling cast his eyes upon the ground. But he

I’ll give you Mr. Scrooge,

ning. “I wish I had him here. I’d give him a piece of my mind

ob, “the children

he health of such an odious, stingy, hard, unfeeling man as Mr. Scrooge.

ob’s mild answer

tchit, “not for his. Long life to him! A merry Christmas and a hap

Tiny Tim drank it last of all, but he didn’t care twopence for it. Scrooge was the Ogre of the family.

ween his collars, as if he were deliberating what particular investments he should favour when he came into the receipt of that bewildering income. Martha, who was a poor apprentice at a milliner’s, then told them what kind of work she had to do, and how many hours she worked at a stretch, and how she meant to lie abed to-morrow morning for a good long rest; to-morrow being a holiday she passed at home. Also how she

and Peter might have known, and very likely did, the inside of a pawnbroker’s. But, they were happy, grateful, pleased with one another, and contented with the time; and w

plates baking through and through before the fire, and deep red curtains, ready to be drawn to shut out cold and darkness. There all the children of the house were running out into the snow to meet their married sisters, brothers, cousins, uncles, aunts, and be the first to greet them. Here, aga

f-chimney high. Blessings on it, how the Ghost exulted! How it bared its breadth of breast, and opened its capacious palm, and floated on, outpouring, with a generous hand, its bright and harmless mirth on everything within its reach! The very l

nd water spread itself wheresoever it listed, or would have done so, but for the frost that held it prisoner; and nothing grew but moss and furze, and coarse rank grass. Down in the west the se

is this?” as

r in the bowels of the earth,” return

their children’s children, and another generation beyond that, all decked out gaily in their holiday attire. The old man, in a voice that seldom rose above the howling of the wind upon the barren waste, was singing them a Christmas

oge’s horror, looking back, he saw the last of the land, a frightful range of rocks, behind them; and his ears were deafened by the thu

e wild year through, there stood a solitary lighthouse. Great heaps of sea-weed clung to its base, and storm-bird

Joining their horny hands over the rough table at which they sat, they wished each other Merry Christmas in their can of grog; and one of them: the elder, to

ostly figures in their several stations; but every man among them hummed a Christmas tune, or had a Christmas thought, or spoke below his breath to his companion of some bygone Christmas Day, with homeward hopes belonging to it. And every man on board, waki

whose depths were secrets as profound as Death: it was a great surprise to Scrooge, while thus engaged, to hear a hearty laugh. It was a much greater surprise to Scrooge to recogni

d Scrooge’s neph

in a laugh than Scrooge’s nephew, all I can say is, I should like to

ontagious as laughter and good-humour. When Scrooge’s nephew laughed in this way: holding his sides, rolling his head, and twisting his face into the most

Ha, ha,

umbug, as I live!” cried Scroog

e, indignantly. Bless those women; they never d

oubt it was; all kinds of good little dots about her chin, that melted into one another when she laughed; and the sunniest pair of eyes you ever saw

ruth: and not so pleasant as he might be. However, his offences c

d,” hinted Scrooge’s niece. “A

don’t do any good with it. He don’t make himself comfortable with it. He hasn’t th

ge’s niece. Scrooge’s niece’s sisters, and al

ed. Who suffers by his ill whims! Himself, always. Here, he takes it into his head to dislike u

aid the same, and they must be allowed to have been competent judges, because they had just

s nephew, “because I haven’t great faith in the

chelor was a wretched outcast, who had no right to express an opinion on the subject. Whereat S

ping her hands. “He never finishes what he b

le to keep the infection off; though the plump sister tried hard t

ons than he can find in his own thoughts, either in his mouldy old office, or his dusty chambers. I mean to give him the same chance every year, whether he likes it or not, for I pity him. He may rail at Christmas till he dies, but he can’t help think

oughly good-natured, and not much caring what they laughed at, so that they laughed

played well upon the harp; and played among other tunes a simple little air (a mere nothing: you might learn to whistle it in two minutes), which had been familiar to the child who fetched Scrooge from the boarding-school, as he had been reminded by the Ghost of Christmas Past. When this strain of music sounde

ty of human nature. Knocking down the fire-irons, tumbling over the chairs, bumping against the piano, smothering himself among the curtains, wherever she went, there went he! He always knew where the plump sister was. He wouldn’t catch anybody else. If you had fallen up against him (as some of them did), on purpose, he would have made a feint of endeavouring to seize you, which would have been an affront to your understanding, and would instantly have sidled off in the direction of the plump sister. She often cried out that it wasn’t fair; and it really was not. But when at

e of How, When, and Where, she was very great, and to the secret joy of Scrooge’s nephew, beat her sisters hollow: though they were sharp girls too, as Topper could have told you. There might have been twenty people there, young and old, but they all played, and so did Scrooge; for wholly forgetting in the int

n him with such favour, that he begged like a boy to be allowed to sta

aid Scrooge. “One half

isagreeable animal, a savage animal, an animal that growled and grunted sometimes, and talked sometimes, and lived in London, and walked about the streets, and wasn’t made a show of, and wasn’t led by anybody, and didn’t live in a menagerie, and was never killed in a market, and was not a horse, or an ass, or a c

I know what it is, Fre

it?” cr

Uncle Scro-

to “Is it a bear?” ought to have been “Yes;” inasmuch as an answer in the negative was sufficient

would be ungrateful not to drink his health. Here is a glass of mulle

e Scrooge!”

atever he is!” said Scrooge’s nephew. “He wouldn’t take it

pany in return, and thanked them in an inaudible speech, if the Ghost had given him time. But the whole scene pa

and they were close at home; by struggling men, and they were patient in their greater hope; by poverty, and it was rich. In almshouse, hospital, and jail, in misery’s

ed together. It was strange, too, that while Scrooge remained unaltered in his outward form, the Ghost grew older, clearly older. Scrooge had observed this change, but ne

ives so short?”

is very brief,” replied th

t!” crie

ght. Hark! The tim

the three quarters pas

intently at the Spirit’s robe, “but I see something strange, and not bel

h there is upon it,” was the Spir

etched, abject, frightful, hideous, miserable. They knelt

Look, look, down here

with its freshest tints, a stale and shrivelled hand, like that of age, had pinched, and twisted them, and pulled them into shreds. Where angels might have sat enthroned, devils lurke

y, he tried to say they were fine children, but the words choked th

yours?” Scrooge

them both, and all of their degree, but most of all beware this boy, for on his brow I see that written which is Doom, unless the writing be erased. Deny it!” cr

fuge or resource

turning on him for the last time with h

l struc

brate, he remembered the prediction of old Jacob Marley, and lifting up his eyes, behel