Christmas Bonus Episode: "A Christmas Carol"

This episode sponsored by Author Jenelle Hovde. Check out her website, https://jenellehovdeauthor.com/, and be sure to sign up for her email list to receive a FREE E-Book! 

Who among us hasn't been captivated by Charles Dickens' timeless tale, A Christmas Carol? Imagine embarking on a chapter-by-chapter exploration of the story, shadowing the grumpy and miserly old man, Ebenezer Scrooge, as he rediscovers the joy and true spirit of Christmas through his haunting encounters with three spirits. This festive journey will not only entertain you, but also leave you with a renewed appreciation for the enduring charm and timeless lessons of this classic tale.

Join us as we trace Scrooge's transformation, from his cold refusal to help the poor to his poignant encounters with the spirits of Christmas past, present, and future. We'll journey through the festive atmosphere of Victorian England, sharing in the merriment of Scrooge's nephew's Christmas dinner and the Cratchit family's simple yet joyous celebrations. As we delve deeper into Scrooge's encounters, you'll feel the warmth, cheer, and spirit of Christmas, and witness the old man's ultimate embrace of kindness, generosity, and the true spirit of the holiday season.

From his chilling conversation with Jacob Marley's ghost to his emotional journey with the Ghost of Christmas Past, and the consequential lessons imparted by the Ghosts of Christmas Present and Yet to Come, every aspect of Scrooge's story is explored in this episode. You'll experience the dire consequences of Scrooge's miserly ways and the profound transformation and redemption that follows. So, grab a warm drink, sit back, relax, and tag along on our festive journey through Dickens' A Christmas Carol. We promise you an enthralling ride and a fresh appreciation for this beloved holiday classic.

Transcript

Jason Hovde: 0:17

Welcome to this very special holiday podcast where we'll be presenting a free audiobook adaptation of Charles Dickens' beloved classic A Christmas Carol. This timeless tale of redemption and the true meaning of Christmas has been a holiday staple for generations and we're excited to bring it to you in this unique and accessible format. To enable this podcast to be presented in an uninterrupted format, a gracious sponsor has provided support and I encourage you to check out her work. If you love stories that transport you to another time and place, check out Jenelle Hovde. Masterful writer of biblical and historical fiction, her books bring ancient worlds to life, immersing you in culture, drama and triumphs of the past. With a keen eye for detail and a deep understanding of the human heart, janelle Huvde crafts tales that inspire, uplift and delight, and today we're excited to announce that she's sponsoring this special bonus episode of A Christmas Carol. Thanks for listening to this bonus episode made possible by Jenelle Hovde's support. If you're enjoying this episode, be sure to check out her books at jenellehovdeauthor. com. The link will be included in the show notes of this podcast. Be sure to sign up for her newsletter. If you do, you will receive a free ebook that will give you the opportunity to enjoy Jenelle's work, discover the world of biblical and historical fiction and get ready to be transported.

Jason Hovde: 1:58

Over the course of this podcast, you'll be transported to Victorian England, where you'll meet Ebenezer Scrooge, a miserly old man who has lost touch with the joys of Christmas. But with the help of three spirits the ghosts of Christmas past, present and future Scrooge will embark on a journey of self-discovery and redemption that will leave you in the holiday spirit. Whether you're a longtime fan of the book or new to the story, we're confident that you'll be captivated by the magic and wonder of this holiday classic. So grab a cup of hot cocoa, settle in by the fire and get ready to be transported to a world of holiday cheer and festive fun. It's the perfect way to celebrate the holiday season, and we're honored to be part of your holiday traditions. Without further ado, let's begin our journey with Ebenezer Scrooge and the spirits of Christmas. Happy listening and happy holidays. A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens, stave 1. Marley's Ghost.

Jason Hovde: 3:19

Marley was dead to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it, and Scrooge's name was good upon change, for anything he chose to put his hand to. Old Marley was as dead as a doornail. Mind I don't mean to say that I know of my own knowledge what there is particularly dead about a doornail. I might have been inclined myself to regard the coffinail as the deadest piece of iron mongry in the trade, but the wisdom of our ancestors is in the simile and my unhallowed hands shall not disturb it or the country's done for you. Will therefore permit me to repeat emphatically that Marley was as dead as a doornail. Scrooge knew he was dead. Of course he did. How could it be otherwise? Scrooge and he were partners for I don't know how many years. Scrooge was his sole executor, his sole administrator, his sole assigned, his sole residuary legatee, his sole friend and sole mourner. And even Scrooge was not so dreadfully cut up by the sad event, but that he was an excellent man of business on the very day of the funeral and solemnized it with an undoubted bargain.

Jason Hovde: 4:43

The mention of Marley's funeral brings me back to the point I started from. There is no doubt that Marley was dead. This must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate. If we were not perfectly convinced that Hammett's father died before the play began. There would be nothing more remarkable in his taking a stroll at night and an easterly wind upon his own ramparts than there would be in any other middle-aged gentleman rashly turning out after dark in a breezy spot, say St Paul's churchyard, for instance. Marley, to astonish his son's weak mind.

Jason Hovde: 5:21

Scrooge never painted out old Marley's name. There it stood years afterwards above the warehouse door Scrooge and Marley. The firm was known as Scrooge and Marley. Sometimes people knew to the business called Scrooge, scrooge and sometimes Marley, but he answered to both names it was all the same to him. Oh. But he was a tight-fisted hand at the grindstone.

Jason Hovde: 5:46

Scrooge, a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching. Covetous old sinner, hard and sharp as flint, from which no steel had ever struck out. Generous fire, secret and self-contained and solitary as noister. The cold within him froze, his old features nipped, his pointed nose shriveled, his cheek stiffened, his gait made his eyes red, his thin lips blue and spoke out shrewdly in his grating voice. A frosty rhyme was on his head and on his eyebrows and his wiry chin. He carried his own low temperature always about with him. He iced his office in the dog days and didn't thaw it one degree at Christmas.

Jason Hovde: 6:34

External heat and cold had little influence on Scrooge. No warmth could warm. No wintry weather chill him. No wind that blew was bitterer than he. No falling snow was more intent upon its purpose. No pelting rain. Less open to entreaty, fall weather didn't know where to have him. The heaviest rain and snow and hail and sleet could boast of the advantage over him in only one respect they often came down handsomely and Scrooge never did.

Jason Hovde: 7:08

Nobody ever stopped him in the street to say with gladsome looks my dear Scrooge, how are you? When will you come and see me? No beggars implored him to bestow a trifle. No children asked him what it was o'clock. No man or woman ever once in all his life inquired the way to such and such a place of Scrooge. Even blind men's dogs appeared to know him, and when they saw him coming on would tug their owners into doorways and upcourts and then would wag their tails as though to say no eye at all is better than an evil eye, dark master. But what did Scrooge care? It was the very thing he liked To edge his way along the crowded paths of life. Warning all human sympathy to keep its distance was what the knowing ones call nuts to Scrooge.

Jason Hovde: 7:59

Once upon a time of all the good days in the year, on Christmas Eve, old Scrooge sat busy in his counting house. It was cold, bleak, biting weather, foggy with all, and he could hear the people in the court outside go wheezing up and down, beating their hands upon their breasts and stamping their feet upon the pavement stones to warm them. The city clocks had only just gone three, but it was quite dark already. It had not been light all day and candles were flaring in the windows of the neighboring offices like ruddy smears upon the palpable brown air. The fog came pouring in at every chink and keyhole and was so dense. Without that, although the court was of the narrowest, the house's opposite were mere phantoms To see the dingy cloud come drooping down, obscuring everything, one might have thought that nature lived hard by and was brewing on a large scale. The door of Scrooge's counting house was open that he might keep his eye upon his clerk who, in a dismal little cell beyond a sort of tank, was copying letters. Scrooge had a very small fire, but the clerk's fire was so very much smaller that it looked like one coal. But he couldn't replenish it, for Scrooge kept the coal box in his own room, and so surely as the clerk came in with the shovel, the master predicted that it would be necessary for them to part, wherefore the clerk put on his white comforter and tried to warm himself at the candle, in which effort, not being a man of a strong imagination, he failed.

Jason Hovde: 9:39

A merry Christmas, uncle, god save you, cried a cheerful voice. It was the voice of Scrooge's nephew, who came upon him so quickly that this was the first intimation he had of his approach. Ah, said Scrooge Humbug. He had so heated himself with rapid walking in the fog and frost, this nephew of Scrooge's, that he was all in a glow, his face was ruddy and handsome, his eyes sparkled and his breath smoked.

Jason Hovde: 10:06

Again, christmas, humbug uncle, said Scrooge's nephew you don't mean that, I'm sure I do, said Scrooge. Merry Christmas, what right have you to be merry? What reason have you to be merry? You're poor enough. Come then, return the nephew gaily. What right have you to be dismal? What reason have you to be morose? You're rich enough. Scrooge, having no better answer ready on the spur of the moment, said va again and followed it up with humbug, don't be cross uncle, said the nephew. What else can I be? Return the uncle.

Jason Hovde: 10:46

When I live in such a world of fools as this, merry Christmas Out upon merry Christmas, what's Christmas time to you but a time for paying bills without money, a time for winding yourself a year older and not an hour richer, a time for balancing your books and having every item in them, through a round dozen of months, presented dead against you? If I could work my will, said Scrooge indignantly, every idiot who goes about with merry Christmas on his lips should be boiled with his own pudding and buried with a stake of holly through his heart. He should, uncle, pleaded the nephew. Nephew returned the uncle sternly Keep Christmas in your own way and let me keep it in mine. Keep it, repeated Scrooge's nephew, but you don't keep it, let me leave it alone.

Jason Hovde: 11:35

Then, said Scrooge, much good may it do you. Much good has it ever done you? There are many things from which I might have derived good, by which I have not profited, I dare say. Returned the nephew, christmas among the rest. But I am sure I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come around, apart from the veneration due to its sacred name and origin, if anything belonging to it can be apart from that as a good time, a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time, the only time I know of in the long calendar of the year when men and women seem, by one consent, to open their shut-up hearts freely and to think of other people below them as if they really were fellow passengers to the grave and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. And therefore, uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good and will do me good, and I say God bless it.

Jason Hovde: 12:36

The clerk in the tank involuntarily applauded. Becoming immediately sensible of the impropriety, he poked the fire and extinguished the last frail spark forever. Let me hear another sound from you, said Scrooge, and you'll keep your Christmas by losing your situation. You're quite a powerful speaker, sir, he added. Turning to his nephew, I wonder you don't go into Parliament, don't be angry, uncle. Come dine with us tomorrow.

Jason Hovde: 13:06

Scrooge said that he would see him. Yes, indeed he did. He went the whole length of the expression and said that he would see him in that extremity first. But why, cried Scrooge's nephew, why? Why did you get married, said Scrooge, because I fell in love, because you fell in love, growled Scrooge, as if that were the only one thing in the world more ridiculous than a merry Christmas. Good afternoon, nay, uncle. But you never came to see me before that happened. Why give it as a reason for not coming now? Good afternoon, said Scrooge. I want nothing from you. I ask nothing of you. Why cannot we be friends? Good afternoon, said Scrooge. I am sorry with all my heart to find you so resolute. We have never had any quarrel to which I have been a party, but I have made the trial an homage to Christmas and I'll keep my Christmas humor to the last. So a merry Christmas, uncle. Good afternoon, said Scrooge, and a happy new year. Good afternoon, said Scrooge.

Jason Hovde: 14:11

His nephew left the room without an angry word not withstanding. He stopped at the outer door to bestow the greetings of the season on the clerk who, cold as he was, was warmer than Scrooge, for he returned them cordially. There's another fellow, muttered Scrooge, who overheard him, my clerk, with fifteen showings a week and a wife and family talking about a merry Christmas, all retired to bedlam this lunatic, in letting Scrooge's nephew out, had let two other people in. They were portly gentlemen, pleasant to behold, and now stood with their hats off in Scrooge's office. They had books and papers in their hands and bowed to him. Scrooge, in Marley's, I Believe, said one of the gentlemen referring to his list. Have I the pleasure of addressing Mr Scrooge or Mr Marley? Mr Marley has been dead these seven years. Scrooge replied. He died seven years ago this very night. We have no doubt his liberality is well represented by his surviving partner, said the gentleman presenting his credentials. It certainly was, for they had been two kindred spirits. At the ominous word liberality, scrooge frowned and shook his head and handed the credentials back.

Jason Hovde: 15:23

At this festive season of the year, mr Scrooge, said the gentleman taking up a pen, it is more than usually desirable that we should make some slight provision for the poor and destitute who suffer greatly at the present time. Many thousands are in want of common necessities. Hundreds of thousands are in want of common comfort. Sir, are there no prisons? Asked Scrooge. Plenty of prisons, said the gentleman laying the pen down again. And the union workhouses demanded Scrooge, are they still in operation? They are still, returned, the gentleman. I wish I could say they were not. The treadmill and the poor law are in full vigor. Then, said Scrooge, both very busy, sir. Oh, I was afraid from what you said at first that something had occurred to stop them in their useful course, said Scrooge I'm very glad to hear it, under the impression that they scarcely furnished Christian cheer of mind or body to the multitude, said the gentleman, a few of us are endeavoring to raise a fund to buy the poor some meat and drink and means of warmth.

Jason Hovde: 16:27

We choose this time because it is a time of all others, when want is keenly felt and abundance rejoices. What shall I put you down for? Nothing, scrooge replied. You wish to be anonymous. I wish to be left alone, said Scrooge. Since you asked me what I wish, gentlemen, that is my answer. I don't make merry myself at Christmas and I can't afford to make idle people merry. I help to support the establishments I have mentioned. They cost enough and those who are badly off must go there. Many can't go there and many would rather die. If they would rather die, said Scrooge, they had better do it and decrease the surplus population. Besides, excuse me, I don't know that, but you might know it, observed the gentleman. It's not my business. Scrooge returned. It's enough for a man to understand his own business and not to interfere with other peoples. Mine occupies me constantly. Good afternoon. Gentlemen, seeing clearly that it would be useless to pursue their point, the gentleman withdrew.

Jason Hovde: 17:29

Scrooge, resumed his labors with an improved opinion of himself and in a more facetious temper than was usual with him. Meanwhile the fog and darkness thickened so that people ran about with flaring links, offering their services to go before horses and carriages and conduct them on their way. The ancient tower of a church whose gruff old bell was always peeping slyly down at Scrooge out of a gothic window in the wall, became invisible and struck the hours and quarters in the clouds with tremulous vibrations afterwards, as if its teeth were chattering in its frozen head. Up there, the cold became intense. In the main street, at the corner of the court, some labors were repairing the gas pipes and had lighted a great fire in a brazier round which a party of ragged men and boys were gathered, warming their hands and winking their eyes before the blaze and rapture, the water plug being left in solitude, its overflowing suddenly congealed and turned into misanthropic ice.

Jason Hovde: 18:32

The brightness of the shops where holly sprigs and berries crackled in the lamp heat of the windows made pale faces ruddy as they passed. Pulturers and grocers trades became a splendid joke, a glorious pageant with which it was next to impossible to believe that such dull principles as bargain and sale had anything to do with it. The Lord Mayor, in the stronghold of the mighty mansion house, gave orders to his fifty cooks and butlers to keep Christmas as a Lord Mayor's household should, and even the little tailor, whom he had fined five shillings on the previous Monday for being drunk and bloodthirsty in the streets, stirred up tomorrow's pudding in his garret, while his lean wife and the baby sallied out to buy the beef. Foggy-er yet and colder, piercing, searching, biting cold. If the good Saint Dunstan had but nipped the evil spirit's nose with a touch of such weather as that, instead of using his familiar weapons, then indeed he would have roared to lusty purpose. The owner of one scant young nose nod and mumbled by the hungry cold, as bones are nod by dogs, stooped down at Scrooge's keyhole to regale him with a Christmas carol. But at the first sound of God bless you, mary. Gentlemen, may nothing you dismay. Scrooge seized the ruler with such energy of action that the singer fled in terror, leaving the keyhole to the fog and even more congenial frost.

Jason Hovde: 20:02

At length, the hour of shutting up the counting house arrived With an ill will. Scrooge dismounted from his stool and tacitly admitted the fact to the expectant clerk in the tank, who instantly snuffed his candle out and put on his hat. You want all day tomorrow, I suppose, said Scrooge, if quite convenient, sir. It's not convenient, said Scrooge, and it's not fair. If I was to stop half a crown for it, you'd think yourself ill-used. I'll be bound. The clerk smiled faintly and yet said Scrooge, you don't think of me ill-used when I pay a day's wages for no work. The clerk observed that it was only once a year. A poor excuse for picking a man's pocket every 25th of December, said Scrooge, buttoning his great coat to the chin. But I suppose you must have the whole day Be here all the earlier the next morning. The clerk promised that he would, and Scrooge walked out with a growl. The office was closed and a twinkling and the clerk, with the long ends of his white comforter dangling below his waist for he boasted no great coat went down a slide on Cornhill at the end of a lane of boys twenty times in honor of it being Christmas Eve, and then ran home to Camden Town as hard as he could pelt to play at Beinman's Buff.

Jason Hovde: 21:17

Scrooge took his melancholy dinner in his usual melancholy tavern and, having read all the newspapers and beguiled the rest of the evening with his banker's book, went home to bed. He lived in chambers which had once belonged to his deceased partner. There were a gloomy suite of rooms in a lowering pile of building up a yard where it had so little business to be that one could scarcely help fancying it must have run there when it was a young house, playing at hide and seek with other houses and forgotten the way out again. It was old enough now and dreary enough for nobody lived in it but Scrooge, the other rooms being all let out as offices. Thank you very much for your time. The yard was so dark that even Scrooge, who knew it's every stone, was feigned to grope with his hands. The fog and frost so hung about the black old gateway of the house that it seemed as if the genius of the weather sat in mournful meditation on the threshold.

Jason Hovde: 22:13

Now it is a fact that there was nothing at all particular about the knocker on the door, except that it was very large. It is also a fact that Scrooge had seen it night and morning during his whole residence in that place. Also that Scrooge had as little of what is called fancy about him as any man in the city of London, even including which is a bold word the corporation alderman and livery. Let it also be borne in mind that Scrooge had not bestowed one thought on Marley since his last mention of his seven years dead partner that afternoon. And then let any man explain to me, if he can, how it happened that Scrooge, having his key in the lock of the door, saw in the knocker without its undergoing any intermediate process of change.

Jason Hovde: 23:00

Not a knocker, but Marley's face. Marley's face. It was not an impenetrable shadow as the other objects in the yard were, but had a dismal light about it, like a bad lobster in a dark cellar. It was not angry or ferocious, but looked at Scrooge as Marley used to look, with ghostly spectacles turned up on its ghostly forehead. The hair was curiously stirred, as if by breath or hot air, and though the eyes were wide open, they were perfectly motionless. That and its livid color made it horrible. But its horror seemed to be in spite of the face and beyond its control, rather than part of its own expression. As Scrooge looked fixedly at this phenomenon, it was a knocker again To say that he was not startled or that his blood was not conscious of a terrible sensation to which it had been a stranger from infancy, would be untrue.

Jason Hovde: 24:00

But he had put his hand upon the key he had relinquished, turned it sturdily, walked in and lighted his candle. He did pause with a moment's irresolution before he shut the door, and he did look cautiously behind it first, as if he half expected to be terrified with the sight of Marley's big tail sticking out into the hall. But there was nothing on the back of the door except the screws and nuts that held the knocker on. So he said pooh, pooh and closed it with a bang. The sound resounded through the house like thunder. Every room above and every cask in the wine merchant's cellars below appeared to have a separate peel of echoes of its own. Scrooge was not a man to be frightened by echoes. He fastened the door and walked across the hall and up the stairs slowly too, trimming his candle as he went.

Jason Hovde: 24:53

You may talk vaguely about driving a coach and six up a good old flight of stairs or through a bad young act of parliament, but I mean to say that you might have got a hearse up that staircase and taken it broad-wise with the splinter bar towards the wall and the door towards the balustrades, and done it easily. There was plenty of width for that and room to spare, which is perhaps the reason why Scrooge thought he saw a locomotive hearse going on before him in the gloom. Half a dozen gas lamps out of the street wouldn't have lighted the entry too well, so you may suppose that it was pretty dark with Scrooge's dip Up. Scrooge went not carrying a button for that. Darkness is cheap and Scrooge liked it.

Jason Hovde: 25:39

But before he shut his heavy door he walked through his rooms to see that all was right. He had just enough recollection of the face to desire to do that. Sitting room, bedroom, lumber room, all as they should be. Nobody under the table, nobody under the sofa, a small fire in the grate, a spoon and basin ready and the little saucepan of gruel. Scrooge had a cold in his head upon the hob. Nobody under the bed, nobody in the closet, nobody in the dressing gown which was hanging up in a suspicious attitude against the wall. Lumber room as usual old fire guard, old shoes, two fish baskets, washing stand on three legs and a poker.

Jason Hovde: 26:21

Quite satisfied, he closed his door and locked himself in, double locked himself in, which was not his custom. Thus secured. Against surprise, he took off his cravat, put on his dressing gown and slippers and his nightcap and sat down before the fire to take his gruel. It was a very low fire indeed, nothing on such a bitter night. He was obliged to sit close to it and brood over it before he could extract the least sensation of warmth from such a handful of fuel.

Jason Hovde: 26:50

The fireplace was an old one, built by some Dutch merchant long ago and paved all round with quaint Dutch tiles designed to illustrate the scriptures. There were canes and ables, pharaohs' daughters, queens of Sheba, angelic messengers descending through the air on clouds like featherbeds, abraham's Belshazzars, apostles putting off to sea in butter boats, hundreds of figures to attract his thoughts. And yet that face of Marley, seven years dead, came like the ancient prophet's rod and swallowed up the whole. If each smooth tile had been blank at first, with power to shape some picture on its surface from the disjointed fragments of his thoughts, there would have been a copy of old Marley's head on every one. Humbug said Scrooge and walked across the room.

Jason Hovde: 27:41

After several turns he sat down again. As he threw his head back in the chair, his glance happened to rest upon a bell, a disused bell that hung in the room and communicated, for some purpose now forgotten, with a chamber in the highest story of the building. It was with great astonishment and with a strange, inexplicable dread that, as he looked, he saw this bell begin to swing. It swung so softly in the outset that it scarcely made a sound, but soon it rang out loudly, and so did every bell in the house. This must have lasted half a minute or a minute, but it seemed an hour. The bells ceased as they had begun together. They were succeeded by a clanking noise deep down below, as if some person were dragging a heavy chain over the casks in the wine merchant's cellar.

Jason Hovde: 28:34

Scrooge then remembered to have heard that ghosts in haunted houses were described as dragging chains. The cellar door flew open with a booming sound, and then he heard the noise much louder on the floors below, then coming up the stairs, then coming straight towards his door. It's humbug still said Scrooge, I won't believe it. His color changed, though, when, without a pause, it came on through the heavy door and passed into the room before his eyes. Upon its coming end, the dying flame leaped up as though it cried I know him, marley's ghost and fell again. The same face, the very same. Finally, in his pigtail, usual waistcoat, tights and boots, the tassels on the ladder bristling like his pigtail and his coat skirts and the hair upon his head. The chain he drew was clasped about the middle. It was long and wound about him like a tail, and it was made for Scrooge observed it closely of cash boxes, keys, padlocks, ledgers, deeds and heavy purses wrought in steel. His body was transparent so that Scrooge, observing him and looking through his waistcoat, could see the two buttons on his coat behind.

Jason Hovde: 29:54

Scrooge had often heard it said that Marley had no bowels, but he had never believed it until now. No, nor did he believe it even now, though he looked the phantom through and through and saw it standing before him, though he felt the chilling influence of its death, cold eyes and marked the very texture of the folded kerchief bound about its head and chin, which wrapper he had not observed before. He was still incredulous and fought against his senses. How now? Said Scrooge, caustic and cold as ever. What do you want with me? Much, marley's voice, no doubt about it. Who are you? Ask me who I was? Who were you? Then said Scrooge, raising his voice You're particular for a shade, he was going to say to a shade, but substituted this as more appropriate In life. I was your partner, jacob Marley. Can you sit down, asked Scrooge, looking doubtfully at him. I can Do it.

Jason Hovde: 31:00

Then Scrooge asked the question because he didn't know whether a ghost so transparent might find himself in a condition to take a chair and felt that, in the event of its being impossible, it might involve the necessity of an embarrassing explanation. But the ghost sat down on the opposite side of the fireplace as if he were quite used to it. You don't believe in me, observed the ghost. I don't, said Scrooge. What evidence would you have of my reality beyond that of your senses? I don't know, said Scrooge. Why do you doubt your senses, scrooge? Said Scrooge, it's a little thing that affects them. A slight disorder of the stomach makes them cheats. You may be an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of an underdone potato. There's more of gravy than of grave about you, whatever you are.

Jason Hovde: 31:54

Scrooge was not much in the habit of cracking jokes, nor did he feel in his heart by any means waggish then. The truth is that he tried to be smart as a means of distracting his own attention and keeping down his terror, for the specter's voice disturbed the very marrow in his bones. To sit staring at those fixed, glazed eyes in silence for a moment would play. Scrooge felt the very deuce with him. There was something very awful too in the specters being provided with an infernal atmosphere of its own. Scrooge could not feel it himself, but this was clearly the case, for though the ghost sat perfectly motionless, its hair and skirts and tassels were still agitated as by the hot vapor from an oven.

Jason Hovde: 32:42

You see this toothpick, said Scrooge, returning quickly from the charge for the reason just assigned and wishing, though it were only for a second, to divert the vision's stony gaze from himself. I do, replied the ghost. You are not looking at it, said Scrooge. But I see it, said the ghost. Notwithstanding. Well, returned Scrooge, I have but to swallow this and be for the rest of my days persecuted by a legion of goblins, all of my own creation. Humbug, I tell you, humbug. At this.

Jason Hovde: 33:14

The spirit raised a frightful cry and shook its chain with such a dismal and appalling noise that Scrooge held on tight to his chair to save himself from falling in a swoon. But how much greater was his horror when the phantom taking off the bandage round its head as if it were too warm to wear indoors, its lower jaw dropped down upon its breast. Scrooge fell upon his knees and clasped his hands before his face. Mercy, he said, dreadful apparition. Why do you trouble me, man of this worldly mind, replied the ghost. Do you believe in me or not? I do, said Scrooge. I must. But why do spirits walk the earth and why do they come to me? It is required of every man, the ghost returned, that the spirit within him should walk abroad, among his fellow man and travel far and wide. And if that spirit goes not forth in life, it is condemned to do so. After death, it is doomed to wander through the world oh, woe is me and witness what it cannot share but might have shared on earth, and turn to happiness.

Jason Hovde: 34:25

Again, the specter raised a cry and shook its chain and rung its shadowy hands. You are fettered, said Scrooge, trembling. Tell me why I wear the chain I forged in life, replied the ghost. I made it, link by link and yard by yard. I girded it on of my own free will and of my own free will I wore it. Is its pattern strange to you? Scrooge trembled more and more, or, would you know, pursued the ghost, the weight and length of the strong coil you bear yourself. It was full, as heavy and as long as this. Seven Christmas eaves ago. You have labored on it since. It is a ponderous chain.

Jason Hovde: 35:10

Scrooge glanced about him on the floor in the expectation of finding himself surrounded by some fifty or sixty fathoms of iron cable. But he could see nothing, jacob, he said imploringly. Old Jacob Marley, tell me more, speak comfort to me, jacob. I have none to give. The ghost replied. It comes from other regions, ebenezer Scrooge, and is conveyed by other ministers to other kinds of men. Nor can I tell you what I would. A very little more is all permitted to me. I cannot rest, I cannot stay, I cannot linger anywhere. My spirit never walked beyond our counting house. Mark me In life. My spirit never roved beyond the narrow limits of our money-changing whole and weary journeys lie before me.

Jason Hovde: 36:00

It was a habit with Scrooge, whenever he became thoughtful, to put his hands in his breeches pockets, wondering on what the ghost had said. He did so now, but without lifting up his eyes or getting off his knees. You must have been very slow about it, jacob. Scrooge observed in a business-like manner, though with humility and deference. Slow, the ghost repeated seven years, dead, music, scrooge and traveling all the time, the whole time, said the ghost. No rest, no peace, incessant torture of remorse. You travel fast, said Scrooge. On the wings of the wind, replied the ghost. You might have got over a great quantity of ground in seven years, said Scrooge.

Jason Hovde: 36:44

The ghost, on hearing this, set up another cry and clanked its chain so hideously in the dead silence of the night that the ward would have been justified in indicting it for a nuisance. Oh, captive, bound and double-ironed, cried the phantom. Not to know that ages of incessant labor by immortal creatures for this earth must pass into eternity before the good of which it is susceptible is all developed. Not to know that any Christian spirit working kindly in its little sphere, whatever it might be, will find its mortal life too short for its vast means of usefulness. Not to know that no space of regret can make amends for one's life opportunities misused. Yet such was I. Oh, such was I. But you were always a good man of business.

Jason Hovde: 37:34

Jacob faltered Scrooge, who now began to apply this to himself Business, cried the ghost, ringing its hands again. Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business. Charity, mercy, forbearance and benevolence were all my business. The dealings of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business. It held up its chain at arm's length as if it were the cause of all its unavailing grief, and flung it heavily upon the ground.

Jason Hovde: 38:09

Again, at this time of the rolling year, the specter said I suffer most. Why did I walk through crowds of fellow beings with my eyes turned down and never raised them to that blessed star which led the wise men to a poor abode? Were there no poor homes to which its light would have conducted me? Scrooge was very much dismayed to hear the specter going on at this rate and began to quake exceedingly. Hear me, said the ghost. My time is nearly gone. I will, said Scrooge, but don't be hard upon me, don't be flowery. Jacob, pray how it is that I appear before you in a shape that you can see. I may not tell. I have sat invisible beside you many and many a day. It was not an agreeable idea. Scrooge shivered and wiped the perspiration from his brow. That is no light. Part of my penance to pursue the ghost. I am here tonight to warn you that you have yet a chance and hope of escaping my fate, a chance and hope of my procuring. Ebenezer, you were always a good friend to me, said Scrooge. Thank you, you will be haunted, resumed the ghost, by three spirits.

Jason Hovde: 39:21

Scrooge's countenance fell almost as low as the ghosts had done. Is that the chance and hope you mentioned Jacob, he demanded in a faltering voice. It is. I think I'd rather not, said Scrooge, without their visit, said the ghost. You cannot hope to shun the path I tread. Expect the first one tomorrow, when the bell tolls. One Couldn't I take them all at once and have it over, jacob, hinted Scrooge. Expect the second on the next night at the same hour. The third upon the next night when the last stroke of twelve has ceased to vibrate. Look to see me no more and look that, for your own sake, you remember what has passed between us.

Jason Hovde: 40:01

When it had said these words, the specter took its wrapper from the table and bound it round its head as before. Scrooge knew this by the smart sound its teeth made when the jaws were brought together by the bandage. He ventured to raise his eyes again and found his supernatural visitor confronting him in an erect attitude, with its chain wound over and about its arm. The apparition walked backward from him and at every step it took the window raised itself a little, so that when the specter reached it it was wide open. It beckoned Scrooge to approach, which he did. When they were within two paces of each other, marley's ghost held up its hand, warning him to come no nearer. Scrooge stopped, not so much in obedience as in surprise and fear, for on the raising of the hand he became sensible of confused noises in the air, incoherent sounds of lamentation and regret, wailings, inexpressibly sorrowful and self-accusatory. The specter, after listening for a moment, joined in the mournful dirge and floated out upon the bleak, dark night.

Jason Hovde: 41:10

Scrooge followed to the window, desperate in his curiosity. He looked out. The air was filled with phantoms, wandering hither and thither in restless haste and moaning as they went. Every one of them wore chains, like Marley's ghost, some few. They might be guilty. Governments were linked together, none were free. Many had been personally known to Scrooge in their lives. He had been quite familiar with one old ghost in a white waistcoat with a monstrous iron safe attached to its ankle, who cried piteously at being unable to assist a wretched woman with an infant whom it saw below upon a doorstep. The misery with them all was clearly that they sought to interfere for good in human matters and had lost the power forever. Whether these creatures faded into mist or mist enshrouded them, he could not tell. But they and their spirit voices faded together and the night became as it had been.

Jason Hovde: 42:11

When he walked home, scrooge closed the window and examined the door by which the ghost had entered. It was double-locked, as he had locked it with his own hands, and the bolts were undisturbed. He tried to say humbug, but stopped at the first syllable and, being from the emotion he had undergone, or the fatigues of the day, or his glimpse of the invisible world, or the dull conversation of the ghost, or the lateness of the hour, much in need of repose, went straight to bed without undressing and fell asleep upon the instant. Stayv II, the FIRST OF THE THREE SPIRITS.

Jason Hovde: 43:06

When Scrooge awoke, it was so dark that, looking out of bed, he could scarcely distinguish the transparent window from the opaque walls of his chamber. He was endeavouring to pierce the darkness with his ferret eyes when the chimes of a neighboring church struck the four quarters. So he listened for the hour, to his great astonishment. The heavy bell went on from six to seven and from seven to eight, and regularly up to twelve, then stopped. Twelve it was past two when he went to bed.

Jason Hovde: 43:41

The clock must be wrong. An icicle must have got into the works. Twelve he touched the spring of his repeater to correct this preposterous clock. Its rapid little pulse. Beat twelve and stopped. Why? It isn't possible, said Scrooge, that I can have slept through a whole day and far into another night. It isn't possible that anything has happened to the sun, and this is twelve at noon.

Jason Hovde: 44:08

The idea being an alarming one, he scrambled out of bed and groped his way to the window. He was obliged to rub the frost off with a sleeve of his dressing gown before he could see anything, and could see very little. Then All he could make out was that it was still very foggy and extremely cold and that there was no noise of people running to and fro and making quite a stir, as there unquestionably would have been if night had beaten off bright day and taken possession of the world. This was a great relief because three days after sight of this, first of exchange paid to Mr Ebenezer, scrooge or his order and so forth would have become a mere United States security if there were no days to count by, scrooge went to bed again and thought and thought and thought it over and over and over, and could make nothing of it.

Jason Hovde: 45:00

The more he thought, the more perplexed he was, and the more he endeavored not to think, the more he thought. Marley's ghost bothered him exceedingly. Every time he resolved within himself, after mature inquiry, that it was all a dream. His mind flew back again like a strong spring, released to its first position and presented the same problem to be worked all through. Was it a dream or not?

Jason Hovde: 45:26

Scrooge lay in this state until the chime had gone three quarters more when he remembered on a sudden that the ghost had warned him of a visitation. When the bell told one, he resolved to lie awake until the hour was passed, and considering that he could no more go to sleep than go to heaven, this was perhaps the wisest resolution in his power. The quarter was so long that he was more than once convinced he must have sunk into a dose unconsciously and missed the clock At length. It broke upon his listening ear. Ding dong. A quarter passed, said Scrooge. Counting Ding dong. Half passed, said Scrooge Ding dong. A quarter to it, said Scrooge Ding dong.

Jason Hovde: 46:10

The hour itself, said Scrooge triumphantly and nothing else. He spoke before the hour bell sounded, which it now did, with a deep, dull, hollow melancholy. One light flashed up in the room upon the instant and the curtains of his bed were drawn. The curtains of his bed were drawn aside, I tell you by hand, not the curtains at his feet nor the curtains at his back, but those to which his face was addressed. The curtains of his bed were drawn aside and Scrooge, starting up into a half-recombed attitude, found himself face to face with the unearthly visitor who drew them as close to it as I am now to you, and I am standing at the spirit at your elbow.

Jason Hovde: 46:58

It was a strange figure, like a child, yet not so like a child as like an old man, viewed through some supernatural medium which gave him the appearance of having receded from the view and being diminished to a child's proportions. Its hair, which hung about its neck and down its back, was white, as if with age, and yet the face had not a wrinkle in it and the tenderest bloom was on the skin. The arms were very long and muscular, the hands the same, as if its hold were of uncommon strength. His legs and feet, most delicately formed, were, like those upper members, bare. It wore a tunic of the purest white, and round its waist was bound a lustrous belt, the sheen of which was beautiful. It held a branch of fresh green holly in its hand and, in singular contradiction of that winter emblem, had its dress trimmed with summer flowers. But the strangest thing about it was that from the crown of its head there is strung a bright, clear jet of light by which all this was visible and which was doubtless the occasion of its using, in its duller moments, a great extinguisher for a cap, which it now held under its arm. Even this, though, when Scrooge looked at it with increasing steadiness, was not its strangest quality, for as its belt sparkled and glittered, now in one part and now in another, and what was light one instant, at another time was dark, so the figure itself fluctuated in its distinctness, being now a thing with one arm, now with one leg, now with twenty legs, now a pair of legs without a head, now a head without a body, of which dissolving parts no outline would be visible in the dense gloom wherein they melted away, and in the very wonder of this, it would be itself again, distinct and clear as ever.

Jason Hovde: 48:57

Are you the spirit, sir, whose coming was foretold to me, asked Scrooge I am. The voice was soft and gentle, singularly low, as if, instead of being so close beside him, it was at a distance. Oh and what are you, scrooge, demanded. I am the ghost of Christmas past. Long past, inquired Scrooge, observant of its dwarfish stature. No, your past.

Jason Hovde: 49:25

Perhaps Scrooge could not have told anybody why, if anybody could have asked him. But he had a special desire to see the spirit in his cap and begged him to be covered. What, exclaimed the ghost, would you so soon put out with worldly hands the light I give? Is it not enough that you were one of those whose passions made this cap and forced me, through whole trains of years, to wear it low upon my brow? Scrooge reverently disclaimed all intention to offend or any knowledge of having willfully bonneted the spirit at any period of his life. He then made bold to inquire. What business brought him there? Your welfare, said the ghost. Scrooge expressed himself much obliged, but could not help thinking that a night of unbroken rest would have been more conducive to that end. The spirit must have heard him thinking, for it said immediately your reclamation, then take heed. It put out its strong hand as it spoke and clasped him gently by the arm, rise and walk with me.

Jason Hovde: 50:34

It would have been in vain for Scrooge to plead that the weather and the hour were not adapted to pedestrian purposes, that bed was warm and a thermometer a long way below freezing, that he was clad, but lightly, in his slippers, dressing gown and nightcap, and that he had a cold upon him at the time, the grasp, though gentle as a woman's hand, was not to be resisted. He rose but, finding that the spirit, made towards the window, clasped his robe in supplication. I am immortal, scrooge, murmonstrated and liable to fall. Bear but a touch of my hand there, said the spirit, laying it upon his heart, and you shall be upheld in more than this. As the words were spoken, they passed through the wall and stood upon an open country road with fields on either hand. The city had entirely vanished. Not a vestige of it was to be seen. The darkness and the mist had vanished with it, for it was a clear, cold winter day with snow upon the ground. Good Heaven, said Scrooge, clasping his hands together as he looked about him. I was bred in this place. I was a boy here.

Jason Hovde: 51:48

The spirit gazed upon him mildly. Its gentle touch, though it had been light and instantaneous appeared still present to the old man's sense of feeling. He was conscious of a thousand odors floating in the air, each one connected with a thousand thoughts and hopes and joys and cares, long, long forgotten. Your lip is trembling, said the ghost. And what is that upon your cheek? Scrooge muttered with an unusual catching in his voice that it was a pimple, and begged the ghost to lead him where he would. You recollect the way, inquired the spirit. Remember it, cried Scrooge, with fervor. I could walk it blindfold. Strange to have forgotten it for so many years, observed the ghost. Let us go on.

Jason Hovde: 52:32

They walked along the road, scrooge, recognizing every gate and post and tree, until a little market town appeared in the distance, with its bridge, its church and winding river. Some shaggy ponies were now seen trotting toward them, with boys upon their backs who called to other boys in country gigs and carts driven by farmers. These boys were in great spirits and shouted to each other until the broad fields were so full of merry music that the crisp air laughed to hear it. These are but shadows of the things that have been said. The ghost, they have no consciousness of us. The jockened travelers came on and as they came. Scrooge knew and named them every one. Why was he rejoiced beyond all bounds to see them? Why did his cold eye glisten and his heart leap up as they went past? Why was he filled with gladness when he heard them give each other merry Christmas as they parted at crossroads and byways for their several homes? What was merry Christmas? To Scrooge out upon merry Christmas? What good had it ever done to him? The school is not quite deserted, said the ghost. A solitary child, neglected by his friends, is left there still. Scrooge said he knew it and he sobbed.

Jason Hovde: 53:51

They left the high road by a well-remembered lane and soon approached a mansion of dull red brick with a little weathercock surmounted cupola on the roof and a bell hanging in it. It was a large house, but one of broken fortunes, for the spacious offices were little used, their walls were damp and mossy, their windows broken and their gates decayed. Fowls clucked and strutted in the stables and the coach houses and sheds were overrun with grass. Or was it more retentive of its ancient state within? For entering the dreary hall and glancing through the open doors of many rooms, they found them poorly furnished, cold and vast. There was an earthy savor in the air, a chilly bareness in the place, which associated itself somehow with too much getting up by candlelight and not too much to eat.

Jason Hovde: 54:44

They went, the ghost and Scrooge, across the hall to a door at the back of the house. They'd opened before them and disclosed a long, bare, melancholy room made bearer still by lines of plain deal forms and desks. At one of these, a lonely boy was reading near a feeble fire, and Scrooge sat down upon a form and wept to see his poor, forgotten self as he used to be. Not a latent echo in the house, not a squeak and shuffle from the mice behind the paneling. Not a drip from the half-thought waterspout in the dull yard behind. Not a sigh among the leafless boughs of one despondent poplar. Not the idle swinging of an empty storehouse door. No, not the clicking in the fire, but fell upon the heart of Scrooge with a softening influence and gave a freer passage to his tears. The spirit touched him on the arm and pointed to his younger self, intent upon his reading.

Jason Hovde: 55:44

Suddenly, a man in foreign garments, wonderfully real and distinct to look at, stood outside the window with an axe stuck in his belt and leading by the bridal and ass laden with wood. Why it's Alibaba. Scrooge exclaimed in ecstasy it's dear old, honest Alibaba. Yes, yes, I know one Christmas time when Yonder's solitary child was left here all alone, he did come for the first time, just like that poor boy. And Valentine said Scrooge and his wild brother Orson, there they go and watch his name, who was put down in his drawers, asleep at the gates of Damascus, don't you see him? And the sultans' groom, turned upside down by the jenai there he is upon his head, serves him right. I'm glad of it. What business had he to be married to the princess?

Jason Hovde: 56:36

To hear Scrooge expending all the earnestness of his nature on such subjects in a most extraordinary voice, between laughing and crying, and to see his heightened and excited face would have been a surprise to his business friends in the city. Indeed, there's the parrot, cried Scrooge, green body and yellow tail, with a thing like lettuce growing up out of the top of his head. There he is, poor Robin Crusoe. He called him when he came home again after sailing round the island. Poor Robin Crusoe, where have you been, robin Crusoe? The man thought he was dreaming, but he wasn't. It was the parrot. You know. There goes Friday, running for his life to the little creek. Hello, loop, hello.

Jason Hovde: 57:20

Then, with a rapidity of transition very foreign to his usual character, he said in pity for his former self, poor boy, and cried again, I wish, scrooge, muttered, putting his hand in his pocket and looking about him after drying his eyes with his cuff. But it's too late now. What does the matter ask the spirit? Nothing, said Scrooge, nothing. There was a boy singing a Christmas carol at my door last night. I should like to have given him something, that's all. The ghost smiled thoughtfully and waved its hand, saying as it did so let us see another Christmas.

Jason Hovde: 57:58

Scrooge's former self grew larger at the words and the room became a little darker and more dirty. The panels shrunk, the windows cracked, fragments of plaster fell out of the ceiling and the naked laths were shown instead. But how all this was brought about, scrooge knew no more than you do. He only knew that it was quite correct that everything had happened so that there he was alone again when all the other boys had gone home for the jolly holidays. He was not reading now, but walking up and down despairingly.

Jason Hovde: 58:32

Scrooge looked at the ghost and, with a mournful shaking of his head, glanced anxiously toward the door. It opened and a little girl much younger than the boy, came darting in and putting her arms around his neck and often kissing him, addressed him as her dear, dear brother. I have come to bring you home, dear brother, said the child, clapping her tiny hands and bending down to laugh. To bring you home, home, home, home, little fan, returned the boy. Yes, said the child brimful of glee. Home for good and all home, forever and ever. Father is so much kinder than he used to be that homes like heaven. He spoke so gently to me one dear night when I was going to bed that I was not afraid to ask him once more if you might come home. And he said, yes, you should, and sent me and a coach to bring you. And you're to be a man, said the child, opening her eyes, and are never to come back here, but first were to be together all the Christmas long and have the merriest time in all the world. You are quite a woman, little fan, exclaimed the boy. She clapped her hands and laughed and tried to touch his head but, being too little, laughed again and stood on tiptoe to embrace him. Then she began to drag him in her childish eagerness toward the door and he, nothing left to go, accompanied her.

Jason Hovde: 59:54

A terrible voice in the hall cried bring down Master Scrooge's box. There, and in the hall there appeared the schoolmaster himself, who glared on Master Scrooge with a ferocious condescension and threw him into a dreadful state of mind by shaking hands with him. He then conveyed him and his sister into the various old well of a shivering best parlor that ever was seen, where the maps upon the wall and the celestial and terrestrial globes in the windows were waxy with cold. Here he produced a decanter of curiously light wine and a block of curiously heavy cake and administered installments of these dainties to the young people, at the same time sending out a meager servant to offer a glass of something to the postboy, who answered that he thanked the gentleman, but if it was the same tap he had tasted before, he had rather not.

Jason Hovde: 1:00:46

Master Scrooge's trunk being by this time tied onto the top of the chase. The children bade the schoolmaster goodbye, right willingly, and, getting into it, drove gaily down the garden sweep, the quick wheels dashing the whorefrost and snow from off the dark leaves of the evergrain's like spray, always a delicate creature whom a breath might have withered, said the ghost, but she had a large heart, so she had, cried Scrooge, you're right, I will not gain, say it spirit, god forbid. She died a woman, said the ghost, and had, as I think, children. One child Scrooge returned true, said the ghost, your nephew. Scrooge seemed uneasy in his mind and answered briefly yes, although they had, but that moment left the school behind them.

Jason Hovde: 1:01:35

They were now in the busy thoroughfares of a city where shadowy passengers passed and repast, where shadowy carts and coaches battled for the way and all the strife and tumult of a real city were. It was made plain enough by the dressing of the shops that here too it was Christmas time again, but it was evening and the streets were lighted up. The ghost stopped at a certain warehouse door and asked Scrooge if he knew it. Know it, said Scrooge. Was I apprenticed here? They went in At sight of an old gentleman in a Welsh wig sitting behind such a high desk that if he had been two inches taller he must have knocked his head against the ceiling. Scrooge cried out in great excitement why, it's old Fezzywig? Bless his heart. It's Fezzywig, alive again.

Jason Hovde: 1:02:26

Old Fezzywig laid down his pen and looked up at the clock which pointed to the hour of seven. He rubbed his hands, adjusted his capacious waistcoat and laughed all over himself, from his shoes to his organ of benevolence, and called out in a comfortable, oily, rich, jovial, fat voice Yo ho, there, ebenezer, dick Scrooge's former self, now grown a young man, came briskly in, accompanied by his fellow apprentice, dick Wilkins. To be sure, said Scrooge to the ghost, bless me. Yes, there he is. He was very much attached to me, was Dick? Poor Dick, dear, dear. Yo ho, my boys said, fezzywig, no more work tonight.

Jason Hovde: 1:03:10

Christmas Eve, dick, christmas, ebenezer, let's have the shutters up, cried Old Fezzywig with a sharp clap of his hands, before a man can say Jack Robinson, you wouldn't believe how these two fellows went at it. They charged into the street with the shutters, one, two, three, had them up in their places, four, five, six, barred them and pinned them Seven, eight, nine, and came back before you have got to twelve panting-like racehorses. Hilly ho, cried Old Fezzywig, skipping down from the high desk with wonderful agility. Clear away, my lads, and let's have lots of room here. Hilly ho, dick, cheer up, ebenezer, clear away. There was nothing they wouldn't have cleared away or couldn't have cleared away, with Old Fezzywig looking on.

Jason Hovde: 1:03:55

It was done in a minute. Every movable was packed off as if it were dismissed from public life forever. The floor was swept and watered, the lamps were trimmed, fuel was heaped upon the fire and the warehouse was as snug and warm and dry and bright a ballroom as you would desire to see upon a winter's night. In came a fiddler with a music book and went up to the lofty desk and made an orchestra of it and tuned like fifty stomach aches. In came Mrs Fezzywig, one vast, substantial smile. In came the three Miss Fezzywigs, beaming and lovable. In came the six young followers whose hearts they broke.

Jason Hovde: 1:04:31

In came all the young men and women employed in the business. In came the housemaid and her cousin, the baker. In came the cook and her brother's particular friend, the milkman. In came the boy from over the way who was suspected of not having bored enough from his master trying to hide himself behind the girl from next door, but one who was proved to have had her ears pulled by her mistress. In they all came, one after another, some shyly, some boldly, some gracefully, some awkwardly, some pushing, some pulling In. They all came anyhow and everyhow Away. They all went, twenty, couple at once, hands half round and back again the other way, down the middle and up again, round and round in various stages of affectionate grouping Old top couple, always turning up in the wrong place. New top couples starting off again as soon as they got there. All top couples at last, and not a bottom one to help them.

Jason Hovde: 1:05:28

When this result was brought about, old Fezzywig, clapping his hands to stop the dance, cried out. He was stunned and the fiddler plunged his hot face into a pot of porter especially provided for that purpose. But scorning rest upon his reappearance he instantly began again, though there were no dancers yet, as if the other fiddler had been carried home exhausted on a shutter, and he were a brand new man resolved to beat him out of sight or perish. There were more dances and there were forfeits, and more dances, and there was cake and there was negus and there was a great piece of cold roast and there was a great piece of cold boiled and there were mince pies and plenty of beer. But the great effect of the evening came after the roast and the boiled, when the fiddler, an artful dog, mined, that sort of man who knew his business better than you or I could have told it to him, struck up Sir Roger de Coverley.

Jason Hovde: 1:06:23

Then old Fezzywig stood out to dance with Mrs Fezzywig. Hot couple too, with a good, stiff piece of work cut out for them. Three or four and twenty pair of partners, people who would not to be trifled with, people who would dance and had no notion of walking. But if they had been twice as many, ah, four times old Fezzywig would have been a match for them, and so would Mrs Fezzywig. As to her, she was worthy to be his partner, in every sense of the term. If that's not high praise, tell me higher and I'll use it. A positive light appeared to issue from Fezzywig's calves. They shone in every part of the dance like moons. You couldn't have predicted at any given time what would have become of them next. And when old Fezzywig and Mrs Fezzywig had gone all through the dance, advance and retire both hands to your partner, bow and curtsy, corkscrew, thread the needle and back again to your place. Fezzywig cut Cut so deftly that he appeared to wink with his legs and came upon his feet again without a stagger.

Jason Hovde: 1:07:26

When the clock struck eleven, this domestic ball broke up. Mr and Mrs Fezzywig took their stations, one on either side of the door and, shaking hands with every person individually as he or she went out, wished him or her a merry Christmas, when everybody had retired but the two apprentices. They did the same to them, and thus the cheerful voices died away and the lads were left to their beds, which were under a counter in the back shop. During the whole of this time, scrooge had acted like a man out of his wits. His heart and soul were in the scene and with his former self he corroborated everything, remembered everything, enjoyed everything and underwent the strangest agitation.

Jason Hovde: 1:08:09

It was not until now, when the bright faces of his former self and Dick were turned from them, that he remembered the ghost and became conscious that it was looking full upon him while the light upon its head burnt. Very dear, a small matter, said the ghost, to make these silly folks so full of gratitude. Small, echoed Scrooge. The spirit signaled to him to listen to the two apprentices who were pouring out their hearts in praise of Fezzywig and when he had done so, said why Is it not? He has spent but a few pounds of your mortal money, three or four perhaps. Is that so much that he deserves this praise? It isn't that, said Scrooge, heated by this remark and speaking unconsciously like his former, not his latter, self. It isn't that spirit he has the power to render us happy or unhappy, to make our service light or burdensome, a pleasure or a toil, say that his power lies in words and looks in things so slight and insignificant that it is impossible to add and count them up. But then the happiness he gives is quite as great as if it cost a fortune. He felt the spirit's glance and stopped. What is the matter, asked the ghost. Nothing particular, said Scrooge Something. I think the ghost insisted no, said Scrooge no. I should like to be able to say a word or two to my clerk just now. That's all.

Jason Hovde: 1:09:37

His former self turned down the lamps as he gave utterance to the wish and Scrooge and the ghost again stood side by side in the open air. My time grows short, observed the spirit quick. This was not addressed to Scrooge or to anyone whom he could see, but it produced an immediate effect, for again Scrooge saw himself. He was older now, a man in the prime of his life. His face had not the harsh and rigid lines of later years, but it had begun to wear the signs of care and avarice. There was an eager, greedy, restless motion in the eye which showed the passion that had taken root and where the shadow of the growing tree would fall. He was not alone, but sat by the side of a very young girl in a morning dress, in whose eyes there were tears which sparkled in the light that shone out at the ghost of Christmas past.

Jason Hovde: 1:10:29

It matters little, she said softly to you very little. Another idol has displaced me, and if it can cheer and comfort you in time to come, as I would have tried to do, I have no just cause to grieve. What idol has to place to you? He rejoined A golden one. This is the even-handed dealing of the world, he said. There is nothing on which it is so hard as poverty, and there is nothing it professes to condemn with such severity as the pursuit of wealth. You fear the world too much, she answered gently. All your other hopes have merged into the hope of being beyond the chance of its sordid reproach. I have seen your nobler aspirations fall off one by one, until the master passion gain engrosses you, have I not? What then? He retorted? Even if I have grown so much wiser, what then? I am not changed toward you? She shook her head, am I?

Jason Hovde: 1:11:26

Our contract is an old one. It was made when we were both poor and content to be so Until, in good season, we could improve our worldly fortune by our patient industry. You are changed. When it was made, you were another man. I was a boy, he said impatiently. Your own feeling tells you that you were not what you are.

Jason Hovde: 1:11:46

She returned I am. That which promised happiness when we were one in heart is fraught with misery now that we are two. How often and how keenly I have thought of this. I will not say it is enough that I have thought of it and can release you. Have I ever sought release In words? No, never. What then? In a changed nature, in an altered spirit, in another atmosphere of life, another hope as its great end, in everything that made my love of any worth or value in your sight? If this had never been between us, said the girl, looking mildly but with steadiness upon him, tell me, would you seek me out and try to win me now? Ah, no.

Jason Hovde: 1:12:31

He seemed to yield to the justice of this supposition in spite of himself. And he said with a struggle you think not. I would gladly think otherwise if I could. She answered Heaven knows. When I have learned a truth like this, I know how strong and irresistible it must be. But if you were free today, tomorrow, yesterday, can even I believe that you would choose a dourless girl, you who, in your very confidence with her, weigh everything by gain, or choosing her. If for a moment you were false enough to your one guiding principle to do so, do I not know that your repentance and regret would surely follow? I do, and I release you with a full heart and the love of him you once were.

Jason Hovde: 1:13:18

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

Jason Hovde: 1:14:05

They were in another scene in place, a room not very large or handsome, but full of comfort. Near to the winter fire sat a beautiful young girl, so like the last, that Scrooge believed it was the same, until he saw her now, a comely matron sitting opposite her daughter. The noise in this room was perfectly tumultuous, for there were more children there than Scrooge and his agitated state of mind could count, and unlike the celebrated herd in the poem, they were not forty children conducting themselves like one, but every child was conducting itself like forty. The consequences were uproarious beyond belief, but no one seemed to care. On the contrary, the mother and daughter laughed heartily and enjoyed it very much, and the latter, soon beginning to mingle in the sports, got pillaged by the young brigands most ruthlessly.

Jason Hovde: 1:15:00

What would I not have given to be one of them, though I never could have been so rude. No, no, I wouldn't, for all the wealth of the world, have crushed that braided hair and torn it down, and for the precious little shoe I wouldn't have plucked it off. God bless my soul to save my life. As to measuring her waist in sport as they did, bold young brood, I couldn't have done it. I should have expected my arm to have grown round it for a punishment and never come straight again. And yet I should have dearly liked I owned to have touched her lips, to have questioned her that she might have opened them, to have looked upon the lashes of her downcast eyes and never raised a blush, to have let loose waves of hair, an inch of which would have been a keepsake beyond price. In short, I should have liked, I do confess, to have the lightest license of a child and yet to have been man enough to know its value.

Jason Hovde: 1:15:54

But now a knocking at the door was heard and such a rush immediately ensued that she, with laughing face and plundered dress, was born towards it, the center of a flushed and boisterous group, just in time to greet the father who came home, attended by a man laden with Christmas toys and presents. Then the shouting and the struggling and the onslaught that was made on the defenseless porter, the scaling him with chairs for ladders to dive into his pockets, to spoil him of his brown paper parcels, hold on tight by his cravat, cug him around his neck, pommel his back and kick his legs in irrepressible affection. The shouts of wonder and delight with which the development of every package was received. The terrible announcement that the baby had been taken, in the act of putting a doll's frying pan into his mouth and was more than suspected of having swallowed a fictitious turkey glued on a wooden powder. The immense relief of finding this a false alarm, the joy, the gratitude, the ecstasy, they are all indescribable alike. It is enough that, by degrees, the children and their emotions got out of the parlor, and by one stare at a time, up to the top of the house where they went to bed and so subsided.

Jason Hovde: 1:17:10

And now Scrooge looked on more attentively than ever when the master of the house, having his daughter leaning finally on him, sat down with her and her mother at his own fireside. And when he thought that such another creature, quite as graceful and full of promise, might have called him father and been a springtime in the haggard winter of his life, his sight grew very dim indeed. Bell, said the husband, turning to his wife with a smile. I saw an old friend of yours this afternoon. Who was it Guess? How can I Tut? I don't know? She added in the same breath, laughing as he laughed, mr Scrooge, mr Scrooge it was.

Jason Hovde: 1:17:52

I passed his office window and as it was not shut up and he had a candle inside, I could scarcely help seeing him. His partner lies upon the point of death, I hear. And there he sat alone, quite alone in the world. I believe Spirit, said Scrooge in a broken voice, removed me from this place. I told you these were shadows of the things that have been said, the ghost, that they are what they are. Do not blame me, remove me. Scrooge exclaimed I cannot bear it. He turned upon the ghost and, seeing that it looked upon him with a face in which, in some strange way, there were fragments of all the faces it had shown him, wrestled with it. Leave me, take me back, haunt me no longer In the struggle if that can be called a struggle in which the ghost, with no visible resistance on its own part, was undisturbed by any effort of its adversary. Scrooge observed that its light was burning high and bright, and dimly connecting that with its influence over him. He seized the extinguisher cap and, by a sudden action, pressed it down upon his head. The spirit dropped beneath it so that the extinguisher covered its whole form, but those Scrooge pressed it down with all his force. He could not hide the light which streamed from under it in an unbroken flood upon the ground. He was conscious of being exhausted and overcome by an irresistible drowsiness. And further, of being in his own bedroom, he gave the cap a parting squeeze in which his hand relaxed and had barely time to reel to bed before he sank into a heavy sleep.

Jason Hovde: 1:19:46

Stave 3, the Second of the Three Spirits, awakening in the middle of a prodigiously tough snore and sitting up in bed to get his thoughts together, scrooge had no occasion to be told that the bell was again upon the stroke of one. He felt that he was restored to consciousness in the right nick of time for the especial purpose of holding a conference with the second messenger dispatched to him through Jacob Marley's intervention. But, finding that he turned uncomfortably cold when he began to wonder which of his curtains this new specter would draw back, he put them every one aside with his own hands and, lying down again established a sharp lookout all around the bed, for he wished to challenge the spirit on the moment of its appearance and did not wish to be taken by surprise and made nervous. Gentlemen of the free and easy sort, who plume themselves on being acquainted with a move or two and being usually equal to the time of day, expressed the wide range of their capacity for adventure by observing that they are good for anything from pitch and toss to manslaughter, between which opposite extremes, no doubt, there lies a tolerably wide and comprehensive range of subjects. Without venturing for Scrooge quite as heartily as this, I don't mind calling on you to believe that he was ready for a good broad field of strange appearances and that nothing between a baby and rhinoceros would have astonished him very much.

Jason Hovde: 1:21:15

Now, being prepared for almost anything, he was not by any means prepared for nothing and consequently, when the bell struck one and no shape appeared, he was taken with a violent fit of trembling. Five minutes, ten minutes, a quarter of an hour went by, yet nothing came. All this time, he lay upon his bed, the very core and center of a blaze of ruddy light which streamed upon it when the clock proclaimed the hour and which, being only light, was more alarming than a dozen ghosts, as he was powerless to make out what it meant or would be at, and 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 always the person not in the predicament who knows what ought to have been done in it and would unquestionably have done it too. At last, I say, he began to think that the source and secret of this ghostly light might be in the adjoining room. From whence, on further tracing it, it seemed to shine, this idea taking full possession of his mind.

Jason Hovde: 1:22:32

He got up softly and shuffled in his slippers to the door. The moment Scrooge's hand was on the lock, a strange voice called him by his name and bade him enter. He obeyed it was his own room, there was no doubt about that. But it had undergone a surprising transformation. The walls and ceiling were so hung with living green that it looked a perfect grove, from every part of which bright, gleaming berries glistened. The crisp leaves of holly, mistletoe and ivy reflected back the light, as if so many little mirrors had been scattered there. And such a mighty blaze went 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.

Jason Hovde: 1:23:22

Heaped up on the floor to form a kind of throne were turkeys, geese game, poultry, prawn, great joints of meat, sucking pigs, long wreaths of sausages, mince pies, plum puddings, barrels of oysters, red hot chestnuts, cherry-cheeked apples, juicy oranges, luscious pears, immense twelfth cakes and seething bowls of punch that made the chamber dim with their delicious steam. In easy state. Upon this couch there sat a jolly giant, glorious to see, who bore a glowing torch, in shape not unlike Plenty's horn, and held it up high up to shed its light on Scrooge as he came peeping round the door. Come in, exclaimed the ghost. Come in and know me better, man.

Jason Hovde: 1:24:12

Scrooge entered timidly and hung his head before this spirit. He was not the dogged Scrooge he had been, and though the spirit's eyes were clear and kind, he did not like to meet them. I am the ghost of Christmas present, said the spirit. Look upon me. Scrooge reverently did so.

Jason Hovde: 1:24:31

It was clothed in one simple green robe or mantle, bordered with white fur. This garment hung so loosely on the figure that its capacious breast was bare, as if disdaining to be warded or concealed by any artifice. 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 its genial face, its sparkling eye, its open hand, its cheery voice, its unconstrained demeanor and its joyful air. Girded round its middle was an antique scabbard, but no sword was in it and the ancient sheath was eaten up with rust.

Jason Hovde: 1:25:21

You have never seen the like of me before", exclaimed the spirit. Never, scrooge made answer to it. "have never walked forth with the younger members of my family, meaning, for I am very young my elder brothers born in these later years pursued the phantom. I don't think I have", said Scrooge. I am afraid I have not. Have you had many brothers, spirit? More than eighteen hundred", said the ghost. A tremendous family to provide for, muttered Scrooge.

Jason Hovde: 1:25:52

The ghost of Christmas present rose Spirit, said Scrooge, submissively, conduct me where you will. I went forth last night on compulsion and I learned a lesson which is working now Tonight. If you have ought to teach me, let me profit by it. Touch my robe". Scrooge did as he was told and held it fast.

Jason Hovde: 1:26:14

Holly, mistletoe, redberries, ivy turkeys, geese, game, poultry, brawn meat, pigs, sausages, oysters, pies, puddings, fruit and punch all vanished instantly. So did the room, the fire, the ruddy glow, the hour of night, and they stood in the city streets on Christmas morning when, for the weather was severe, the people made a rough but brisk and not unpleasant kind of music in scraping the snow from the pavement in front of their dwellings and from the tops of their houses, whence it was mad delight to the boys to see it come, plumping down into the road below and splitting into artificial little snowstorms. The house fronts looked black enough and the windows blacker, contrasting with the smooth white sheet of snow upon the roofs and with the dirtier snow upon the ground, which last deposit had been plowed up in deep furrows by the heavy wheels of carts and wagons, furrows that crossed and recrossed each other hundreds of times. Were 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 chimneys in Great Britain had, by one consent, cut fire and were blazing away to their dear heart's content. There was nothing very cheerful in the climate or the town, and yet there was an air of cheerfulness abroad that the clearest summer air and brightest summer sun might have endeavored to diffuse in vain, for the people who were shoveling away on the housetops were jovial and full of glee, calling out to one another from the parapets and now and then exchanging a facetious snowball better-natured missile far than many a wordy jest laughing heartily if it went right and not less heartily if it went wrong.

Jason Hovde: 1:28:15

The polterers' shops were still half open and the fruiterers were radiant in their glory. There were great, round, potbellied baskets of chestnuts shaped like the waistcoats of jolly old gentlemen, lolling at the doors and tumbling out into the street in their apoplectic opulence. There were ruddy, brown-faced, broad-growthed Spanish onions, shining in the fattiness of their growth like Spanish friars and winking from their shelves in wanton slioness at the girls as they went by and glanced demurly at the hung-up mistletoe. There were pears and apples clustered high in blooming pyramids. There were bunches of grapes made in the shopkeeper's benevolence to dangle from conspicuous hooks that people's mouths might water gratis as they passed. There were piles of filberts, mossy and brown, recalling in their fragrance ancient walks among the woods and pleasant shufflings, ankle-deep through withered leaves. There were Norfolk biffens, squat and swarthy, setting off the yellow of the oranges and the lemons and, in the great compactness of their juicy persons urgently entreating and beseeching to be carried home in paper bags and eaten.

Jason Hovde: 1:29:27

After dinner, the very gold and silver fish set forth among these choice fruits in a bowl, though members of a dull and stagnant-blooded race appeared to know that there was something going on, and two of fish went gasping round and round their little world in slow and passionless excitement. The grocers, oh the grocers, nearly closed, with perhaps two shutters down, or one, but through those gaps, such glimpses. It was not alone that the scales descending on the counter made a merry sound, or that the twine and roller parted company so briskly, or that the canisters were rattled up and down like juggling tricks, or even that the blended scents of tea and coffee were so grateful to the nose, or even that the raisins were so plentiful and rare and almonds so extremely white, the sticks of cinnamon so long and straight, the other spices so delicious, the candied fruit so caked and spotted with molten sugar as to make the coldest lookers on feel faint and subsequently billy-ous. 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 day that they tumbled up against each other at the door, crashing their wicker baskets wildly and left their purchases upon the counter and came running back to fetch them and committed hundreds of the like mistakes in the best humor possible, while the grocer and his people were so frank and fresh that the polished hearts with which they fastened their aprons behind might have been their own, worn outside for general inspection and for Christmas Dazz to peck at if they chose.

Jason Hovde: 1:31:20

But soon the steeples called good people all to church and chapel. In a way, they came flocking through the streets in their best clothes and with their happiest faces, and at the same time there emerged from scores of by-street lanes and nameless turnings innumerable people carrying their dinners to the baker's shops. The sight of these poor revelers appeared to interest the spirit very much, for he stood with scrooge beside him in the baker's doorway and taking off the covers as their bearers passed, sprinkled incense on their dinners from his torch it was a very uncommon kind of torch, for once or twice, when there were angry words between some dinner carriers who had jostled each other, he shed a few drops of water on them from it and their good humor was restored directly, for they said it was a shame to quarrel upon Christmas Day. And so it was, god love it. So it was In time. The bells ceased and the bakers were shut up, and there was a genuine shadowing forth of all these dinners and the progress of their cooking in the thawed blotch of wet above the baker's oven, where the pavement smoked as if its stones were cooking too.

Jason Hovde: 1:32:34

Is there a peculiar flavor in what you sprinkle from your torch? Asked scrooge? There is my own. Would it apply to any kind of dinner on this day? Asked scrooge To any kindly given To a poor one most. Why? To a poor one most? Asked scrooge Because it needs it most, spirit, said scrooge.

Jason Hovde: 1:32:57

After a moment's thought, I wonder you, of all the beings in the many worlds about us, should desire to cramp these people's opportunities of innocent enjoyment? I cried the spirit. You would deprive them of their means of dining every seventh day, often the only day on which they can be said to dine at all, said scrooge, wouldn't you, I cried the spirit, you seek to close these places on the seventh day, said scrooge. And it comes to the same thing. I seek, exclaimed the spirit. Forgive me if I am wrong. It has been done in your name, or at least in that of your family, said scrooge. There are some upon this earth of yours, returned the spirit who lay claim to know us and who do their deeds of passion, pride, ill will, hatred, envy, bigotry and selfishness in our name who are as strange to us and all our kith and kin as if they had never lived. Remember that and charge their doings on themselves, not us. Scrooge promised that he would, and they went on, invisible as they had been before, into the suburbs of the town.

Jason Hovde: 1:34:07

It was a remarkable quality of the ghost which scrooge had observed at the bakers that, not withstanding his gigantic size, he could accommodate himself to any place with ease and that he stood beneath a low roof quite as gracefully and like a supernatural creature as it was possible he could have done in any lofty hall. And perhaps it was the pleasure the good spirit had in showing off this power of his, or else it was his own kind, generous, hearty nature and his sympathy with all poor men that led him straight to Scrooge's clerks. For there he went and took Scrooge with him holding to his robe, and on the threshold of the door the spirit smiled and stopped to bless Bob Cratchit's dwelling with the sprinkling of his torch. Think of that Bob had but fifteen Bob a week. Himself he pocketed on Saturdays, but fifteen copies of his Christian name. And yet the ghost of Christmas present blessed his four-rimmed house.

Jason Hovde: 1:35:07

Then up rose Mrs Cratchit, cratchit's wife, dressed out, but poorly, in a twice-turned gown, but brave in ribbons which are cheap and make a goodly show for six pence. And she laid the cloth, assisted by Belinda Cratchit, second of her daughters, also brave in ribbons, while Master Pete Cratchit plunged a fork into the saucepan of potatoes and getting the corners of his monstrous shirt collar, which was Bob's private property, conferred upon his son and heir in honor of the day, into his mouth, rejoiced to find himself so gallantly attired and yearned to show his linen in the fashionable parks. And now two smaller Cratchits, boy and girl, came tearing in, screaming that outside the bakers they had smelt the goose and known it for their own. And basking in luxurious thoughts of sage and onion, these young Cratchits danced about the table and exalted Master Peter Cratchit to the skies while he, not proud, although his collars nearly choked him, blew the fire until the slow potatoes bubbling up knocked loudly at the saucepan lid to be let out and peeled what has ever got your precious father.

Jason Hovde: 1:36:18

Then said Mrs Cratchit, and your brother, tiny Tim, and Martha weren't as late last Christmas Day by half an hour. Here's Martha, mother, said a girl appearing as she spoke. Here's Martha, mother, cried the two young Cratchits. Hurrah, there's such a goose, martha, why, bless your heart alive, my dear, how late you are, said Mrs Cratchit, kissing hera dozen times and taking off her shawl and bonnet for her with a vicious zeal. We'd a great deal of work to finish up last night, replied the girl, and had to clear away this morning, mother. Well, never mind, so long as you are come, said Mrs Cratchit. Sit ye down by the fire, my dear, and have a warm Lord. Bless ye. No, no, there's father coming, cried the two young Cratchits who were everywhere at once. Hide, martha, hide.

Jason Hovde: 1:37:07

So Martha hid herself and in came Bob the father, with at least three feet of comfort and care, exclusive of the fringe, hanging down before him and his threadbare clothes darned up and brushed to look seasonable and tiny Tim upon his shoulder. Alas for tiny Tim, he bore a little crutch and had his limbs supported by an iron frame. Why, where's our Martha? Cried Bob Cratchit looking round, not coming, said Mrs Cratchit. Not coming, said Bob, with a sudden declension of his high spirits, for he had been Tim's blood horse all the way from church and had come home rampant Not coming upon Christmas Day. Martha didn't like to see him disappointed if it were only a joke, so she came out prematurely from behind the closet door and ran into his arms while the two young Cratchits hustled tiny Tim and bore him off into the wash house that he might hear the puddings singing in the copper.

Jason Hovde: 1:38:06

And how did little Tim behave, asked Mrs Cratchit, when she had rallied Bob on his credulity and Bob had hugged his daughter to his heart's content. As good as gold, said Bob, and better. Somehow he gets thoughtful, sitting by himself so much and thinks the strangest things you ever heard. He told me coming home that he hoped the people saw him in the church because he was a cripple and it might be pleasant to them to remember upon Christmas Day who made lame beggars walk and blind men see. Bob's voice was tremulous when he told them this and trembled more when he said that tiny Tim was growing strong and hearty. His act of little Cratchit was heard upon the floor and back came tiny Tim before another word was spoken, escorted by his brother and sister to his stool before the fire, and while Bob, turning up his cuffs as if, poor fellow, they were capable of being made more shabby, compounded some hot mixture into a jug with gin and lemons and stirred it round and round and put it on the hob to simmer.

Jason Hovde: 1:39:11

Master Peter and the two ubiquitous young Cratchits went to fetch the goose with which they soon returned in high procession. Such a bustle ensued, you might have thought. A goose, the rarest of all birds, a feathered phenomenon to which a black swan was a matter of course, and in truth it was something very like it in that house. Mrs Cratchit made the gravy ready beforehand in a little saucepan, hissing hot, master Peter mashed the potatoes with incredible vigor. Miss Belinda sweetened up the applesauce, 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.

Jason Hovde: 1:40:04

At last the dishes were set on and Grace was said. It was succeeded by a breathless pause as Mrs Cratchit, looking slowly all along the carving knife, prepared to plunge it in the breast. And when she did, and when the long expected gush of stuffing issued forth, one murmur of delight arose all round the board. And even tiny Tim, excited by the two young Cratchits, beat on the table with the handle of his knife and feebly cried Hurrah, there never was such a goose. Bob said he didn't believe there ever was such a goose cooked. Its tenderness and flavor, size and cheapness were the themes of universal admiration. Eeked out by applesauce and mashed potatoes, it was a sufficient dinner for the whole family, made, as Mrs Cratchit said, with great delight surveying one small atom of a bone left upon a dish they hadn't ate at all. At last, yet, every one had had enough, and the youngest Cratchits in particular were steeped in sage and onion to the eyebrows.

Jason Hovde: 1:41:12

But now, the plates being changed by Miss Belinda, mrs Cratchit left the room alone, too nervous to bear witness, to take the pudding up and bring it in. Suppose it should not be done enough, suppose it should break and turning out, suppose somebody should have gotten over the wall of the backyard and stolen it while they were merry with the goose, a supposition at which the two young Cratchits became livid. All sorts of horrors were supposed. Hello, a great deal of steam. The pudding was out of the copper. A smell like the washing day. That was the cloth. A smell like an eating house and a pastry cook's next door to each other with a laundress next door to that. That was the pudding.

Jason Hovde: 1:41:56

In half a minute Mrs Cratchit entered, flushed but smiling proudly with the pudding like a speckled cannonball, so hard and firm, blazing in half of half a quarter of ignited brandy and bedite, with Christmas holly stuck into the top. Oh, what a wonderful pudding. Bob Cratchit said, and calmly too, that he regarded it as the greatest success achieved by Mrs Cratchit since their marriage. Mrs Cratchit said that now the weight was off her mind. She would confess she had had her doubts about the quantity of flour. Everybody had something to say about it, but nobody said or thought it was at all a small pudding for a large family. It would have been flat heresy to do so. Any Cratchit would have blushed to hint at such a thing.

Jason Hovde: 1:42:46

At last the dinner was all done. The cloth was cleared, the hearth swept and the fire made up the compound in the jug being tasted and considered perfect. Apples and oranges were put upon the table and a shovel full of chestnuts on the fire. Then all the Cratchit family drew around the hearth in what Bob Cratchit called a circle, meaning half a one, and at Bob Cratchit's elbow stood the family display of glass, two tumblers and a custard cup without a handle. These held the hot stuff from the jug, however, as well as golden goblets would have done, and Bob served it out with beaming looks while the chestnuts on the fire sputtered and cracked noisily. Then Bob proposed A merry Christmas to us all, my dears God bless us, which all the family re-echoed. God bless us.

Jason Hovde: 1:43:37

Everyone said Tiny Tim, the last of all. He sat very close to his father's side upon his little stool. Bob held his withered little hand in his as if he loved the child and wished to keep him by his side and dreaded that he might be taken from him. Spirit, said Scrooge, with an interest he had never felt before. Tell me if Tiny Tim will live. I see a vacant seat, replied the ghost in the poor chimney corner and a crutch without an owner, carefully preserved. If these shadows remain unaltered by the future, the child will die. No, no, said Scrooge, oh no. Kind spirit say he will be spared If these shadows remain unaltered by the future. None other of my race returned. The ghost will find him here. What then? If he be like to die, he had better do it and decrease the surplus population.

Jason Hovde: 1:44:35

Scrooge hung his head to hear his own words quoted by the spirit and was overcome with penitence and grief. Man, said the ghost, if, man, you be in heart not adamant, forbear that wicked cat until you have discovered what the surplus is and where it is, will you decide what men shall live, what men shall die. It may be that in the sight of heaven you are more worthless and less fit to live than millions like this poor man's child. Oh God till hear the insect on the leaf pronouncing on the too much life among his hungry brothers in the dust, scrooge bent before the ghost's rebuke and, trembling, cast his eyes upon the ground, but he raised them speedily on hearing his own name.

Jason Hovde: 1:45:25

Mr Scrooge said Bob, I'll give you, mr Scrooge, the founder of the feast. The founder of the feast, indeed, cried Mrs Cratchit reddening. I wish I had him here. I'd give him a piece of my mind to feast upon and I hope he'd have a good appetite for it. My dear, said Bob, the children. Christmas day it should be Christmas day, I am sure, said she, on which one drinks the health of such an odious, stingy, hard, unfeeling man as Mr Scrooge. You know he is Robert. Nobody knows it better than you do. Poor fellow my dear, was Bob's mild answer. Merry Christmas day All. Drink his health for your sake and the days, said Mrs Cratchit, not for his Long life. To him a merry Christmas and a happy New Year. He'll be very merry and very happy, I have no doubt the children drank the toast after her.

Jason Hovde: 1:46:23

It was the first of their proceedings which had no hardiness. Tiny Tim drank it last of all, but he didn't care too pence for it. Scrooge was the ogre of the family. The mention of his name cast a dark shadow on the party, which was not dispelled for full five minutes After it had passed away. They were ten times merrier than before from the mere relief of Scrooge. The Baleful being done with.

Jason Hovde: 1:46:48

Bob Cratchit told them how he had a situation in his eye for Master Peter which would bring in, if obtained, full, five and six pence weekly. The two young Cratchits laughed tremendously at the idea of Peter's being a man of business, and Peter himself looked thoughtfully at the fire from between his collars, as if he were deliberating what particular investments he should favor. When he came into the receipt of that bewildering income, martha, who was a poor apprentice at a 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 a bed tomorrow morning for a good long rest tomorrow being a holiday she passed at home. Also how she had seen a countess and a lord some days before, and how the lord was much about as tall as Peter, at which Peter pulled up his collars so high that you couldn't have seen his head if you had been there. All this time.

Jason Hovde: 1:47:45

The chestnuts and the jug went round and round, and by and by they had a song about a lost child traveling in the snow from Tiny Tim, who had a plaintive little voice and sang it very well indeed. There was nothing of high mark in this. They were not a handsome family, they were not well dressed, their shoes were far from being waterproof, their clothes were scanty and Peter might have known, and very likely did, the inside of a pawnbrokers. But they were happy, grateful, pleased with one another and contented with the time and when they faded and looked happier yet in the bright sprinklings of the spirit's torch at parting. Scrooge had his eye upon them, and especially on Tiny Tim, until the last.

Jason Hovde: 1:48:31

By this time it was getting dark and snowing pretty heavily, and as Scrooge and the spirit went along the streets, the brightness of the roaring fires and kitchens, parlors and all sorts of rooms was wonderful. Here the flickering of the blaze showed preparations for a cozy dinner with hot plates baking through and through before the fire and deep red curtains ready to be drawn to shut out cold and darkness. There all the children of the house were running out into the snow to meet their married sisters, brothers, cousins, uncles, aunts, and be the first to greet them. Here again were shadows on the window, blind of guests' assembling, and there a group of handsome girls, all hooded and fur booted and all chattering at once, tripped lightly off to some near neighbor's house where, woe upon the single man who saw them enter artful witches. Well, they knew it in a glow. But if you had judged from the numbers of people on their way to friendly gatherings, you might have thought that no one was at home to give them welcome when they got there, instead of every house expecting company and piling up its fires.

Jason Hovde: 1:49:39

Half chimney high Stands on it. How the ghost exalted. 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 lamp-lighter who ran on before dotting the dusky street with specks of light, and who was dressed to spend the evening somewhere, laughed out loudly as the spirit passed, though little can the lamp-lighter that he had any company but Christmas. And now, without a word of warning from the ghost, they stood upon a bleak and desert moor where monstrous masses of rude stone were cast about as though it were the burial place of giants, and water spread itself wheresoever it listed or would have done so but for the frost that held its prisoner, and nothing grew but moss and furs and coarse-ranked grass. Down in the west, the setting sun had left a streak of fiery red which glared upon the desolation for an instant like a sullen eye and frowning lower, lower, lower, yet was lost in the thick gloom of darkest night.

Jason Hovde: 1:50:51

"'what place is this' asked Scrooge. "'a place where miners live who labor in the bowels of the earth', returned the spirit. "'but they know me, see' A light shone from the window of a hut and swiftly they advanced towards it, going through the wall of mud and stone, they found a cheerful company assembled round a glowing fire, an old old man and woman with their children and their children's children and another generation beyond that, all decked out brightly in their holiday attire. The old man, in a voice that seldom rose above the howling of the wind upon the barren waste, was singing them a Christmas song. It had been a very old song when he was a boy, and from time to time they all joined in the chorus. So surely as they raised their voices the old man got quite blithe and loud, and so surely as they stopped his vigor sank again.

Jason Hovde: 1:51:48

The spirit did not tarry here, but Bade Scrooge hold his robe and, passing on above the moor, sped wither not to see, to see, to Scrooge's horror. Looking back, he saw the last of the land, a frightful range of rocks behind them, and his ears were deafened by the thundering of water as it rolled and roared and raged among the dreadful caverns it had worn and fiercely tried to undermine the earth Built upon a dismal reef of sunken rocks, some league or so from shore, on which the waters chafed and dashed the wild year through. There stood a solitary lighthouse, great heaps of seaweed clung to its base and storm birds born of the wind, one might suppose, as seaweed of the water rose and fell about it like the waves they skimmed. But even here, two men who watched the light had made a fire that, through the loophole and the thick stone wall, shed out a ray of brightness on the awful sea. Joining their 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 two with his face, all damaged and scarred with hard weather as the figurehead of an old ship might be, struck up a sturdy song that was like a gale in itself.

Jason Hovde: 1:53:12

Again, the ghosts sped on above the black and heaving sea, on on, until being far away, as he told Scrooge, from any shore. They lighted on a ship. They stood outside, the helmsman at the wheel, the lookout in the bow, the officers who had the watch, dark, ghostly figures in their several stations, but every man among them hummed a Christmas tune or had a Christmas thought, or spoke below his breath to his companion of some bygone Christmas day with homework hopes belonging to it, and every man on board waking or sleeping, good or bad had had a kinder word for another on that day than on any other day in the year and had shared to some extent in its festivities and had remembered those he cared for at a distance and had known that they delighted to remember him. It was a great surprise to Scrooge while listening to the moaning of the wind and thinking what a solemn thing it was to move on through the lonely darkness over an unknown abyss whose depths were secrets as profound as death.

Jason Hovde: 1:54:18

It was a great surprise to Scrooge, while thus engaged, to hear a hearty laugh. It was a much greater surprise to Scrooge to recognize it as his own nephews and to find himself in a bright, dry, gleaming room with the spirit standing smiling by his side and looking at that same nephew with approving affability. Ha-ha, laughed Scrooge's nephew, ha-ha-ha. If you should happen, by any unlikely chance, to know a man more blessed in a laugh than Scrooge's nephew, all I can say is I should like to know him too. Introduce him to me and I'll cultivate his acquaintance. It is a fair, even-handed, noble adjustment of things that, while there is infection and disease and sorrow, there is nothing in the world so irresistibly contagious as laughter and good humor.

Jason Hovde: 1:55:08

When Scrooge's nephew laughed in this way, holding his sides, rolling his head and twisting his face into the most extravagant contortions, scrooge's niece, by marriage, laughed as heartily as he, and their assembled friends, being not a bit behind hand, roared out Ha-ha, ha-ha-ha. He said that Christmas was a humbug as I live, cried Scrooge's nephew. He believed it too. Or shame for him. Fred, said Scrooge's niece indignantly. Bless those women. They never do anything by halves, they are always in earnest. She was very pretty, exceedingly pretty, with a dimpled, surprised-looking capital face, a ripe little mouth that seemed made to be kissed, as no doubt it was all kinds of good little dots about her chin that melted into one another when she laughed, and the sunniest pair of eyes you ever saw in any little creature's head. All together she was what you would have called provoking, you know, but satisfactory too, oh, perfectly satisfactory.

Jason Hovde: 1:56:16

He's a comical old fellow, said Scrooge's nephew. That's the truth, and not so pleasant as he might be, however, his offenses carry their own punishment and I have nothing to say against him. I'm sure he's very rich, fred, hinted Scrooge's niece. At least you always tell me. So what of that, my dear, said Scrooge's nephew? His wealth is of no use to him. He doesn't do any good with it. He don't make himself comfortable with it. He hasn't the satisfaction of thinking, ha-ha-ha, that he's ever going to benefit us with it. I have no patience with him, observed Scrooge's niece, scrooge's niece's sisters and all the other ladies expressed the same opinion. Oh, I have said Scrooge's nephew, I am sorry for him. I couldn't be angry with him if I tried.

Jason Hovde: 1:57:04

Who suffers by his ill whims? Himself? Always here, he takes it into his head to dislike us and he won't come and dine with us. What's the consequence? He don't lose much of a dinner. Indeed, I think he loses a very good dinner, interrupted Scrooge's niece.

Jason Hovde: 1:57:21

Everyone else said the same, and they must be allowed to have been competent judges, because they had just had dinner and, with the dessert upon the table, were clustered around the fire by lamp light. Well, I'm very glad to hear it, said Scrooge's nephew, because I haven't great faith in these young housekeepers. What do you say, topper? Topper had clearly got his eye upon one of Scrooge's niece's sisters, for he answered that a bachelor was a wretched outcast who had no right to express an opinion on the subject. Where, at Scrooge's niece's sister, the plump one with the lace tucker, not the one with the roses blushed. Do go on, fred, said Scrooge's niece, clapping her hands. He never finishes what he begins to say. He's such a ridiculous.

Jason Hovde: 1:58:06

Fellow Scrooge's nephew reveled in another laugh, and as it was impossible to keep the infection off, though, the plump sister tried hard to do it with aromatic vinegar, his example was unanimously followed. I was only going to say, said Scrooge's nephew, that the consequence of his taking a dislike to us and not making merry with us is, as I think, that he loses some pleasant moments which could do him no harm. I'm sure he loses pleasanter companions than he can find in his own thoughts, either in his moldy old office or his dusty chambers. I mean to give him that same chance every year, whether he likes it or not, for I pity him. I rail at Christmas till he dies, but he can't help thinking better of it. I defy him If he finds me going there in good temper year after year and saying Uncle Scrooge, how are you If it only puts him in the vein to leave his poor clerk fifty pounds? That's something, and I think I shook him yesterday.

Jason Hovde: 1:59:06

It was their turn to laugh now at the notion of his shaking Scrooge, but being thoroughly good-natured and not caring much of what they laughed at, so that they laughed at any rate he encouraged them in their merry-ment and they passed the bottle joyously. After tea they had some music, for they were a musical family and knew what they were about when they sung aglee or catch, I can assure you, especially topper, who could growl away in a bass like a good one and never swell the veins in his forehead or get red in the face over it. Scrooge's niece played well upon the harp and played, among other tunes, a simple little prayer, 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 sounded, all the things that ghost had shown him came upon his mind. He softened more and more and thought that if he could have listened to it often years ago he might have cultivated the kindnesses of life for his own happiness with his own hands, without resorting to the spade. That varied Jacob Marley. But they didn't devote the whole evening to music. After a while they played at four fits, where it is good to be children sometimes, and never better than at Christmas, when its mighty founder was a child himself. Stop, there was first a game at Blind Man's Buff. Of course there was, and I no more believe Topper was really blind than I believe he had eyes in his boots. My opinion is that it was done thing between him and Scrooge's nephew, and that the ghost of Christmas present knew it.

Jason Hovde: 2:00:47

The way he went after the plump sister in the lace tucker was an outrage on the credulity 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 anyone else. If you had fallen up against him, as some of them did on purpose, he would have made a faint of endeavoring to seize you, which would have been an affront to your understanding, and would instantly have cycled off in the direction of the plump sister. She often cried out that it wasn't fair, and it really was not. But when at last he caught her, when, in spite of all her silken rustlings and her rapid fluttering past him, he got her into a corner, whence there was no escape, then his conduct was the most excruble, for his pretending not to know her, his pretending that it was necessary to touch her headdress and further to assure himself of her identity by pressing a certain ring upon her finger and a certain chain about her neck, was vile, monstrous. No doubt she told him her opinion of it when, another blind man being in office, they were so very confidential together behind the curtains.

Jason Hovde: 2:02:02

Scrooge's niece was not one of the blind man's buff party but was made comfortable with a large chair and a footstool in a snug corner where the ghost and Scrooge were close behind her. But she joined in the forfeits and loved her love to admiration with all the letters of the alphabet. Likewise, at the game of how, when and where, she was very great and, to the secret joy of Scrooge's nephew, beat her sister's hollow, though they were sharp girls too, as Topper could have told you. There might have been twenty people there, young and old, but they all played, and so did Scrooge, for, wholly forgetting, in the interest he had in what was going on, that his voice made no sound in their ears. He sometimes came out with his guests quite loud and very often guest quite right too, for the sharpest needle best white chapel warranted not to cut in the eye was not sharper than Scrooge, blunt as he took it in his head to be. The ghost was greatly pleased to find him in this mood and looked upon him with such favor that he begged, like a boy, to be allowed to stay until the guest departed. But this, the spirit said, could not be done.

Jason Hovde: 2:03:10

Here's a new game, said Scrooge. One half hour, spirit only one. It was a game called yes and no, where Scrooge's nephew had to think of something and the rest must find out what. He only answering their questions yes or no, as the case was. The brisk fire of questioning to which he was exposed elicited from him that he was thinking of an animal, a live animal, another, a disagreeable animal, a savage animal, an animal that growled and grunted sometimes and talked sometimes and lived in London and walked about the streets and wasn't made a show of and wasn't led by anyone and didn't live in a menagerie and was never killed in a market and was not a horse or a donkey or a cow or a bull or a tiger or a dog or a pig or a cat or a bear. Had every fresh question that was put to him. This nephew burst into a fresh roar of laughter and was so inexpressibly tickled that he was obliged to get up off the sofa and stamp. At last. The plump sister, falling into a similar state, cried out I have found out what it is. I know what it is, fred. I know what it is. What is it? Cried Fred. It's your uncle Scrooge, which it certainly was.

Jason Hovde: 2:04:26

Question was the universal sentiment, though some objected that the reply to is it a bear ought to have been yes, in as much as an answer to the negative was sufficient to have diverted their thoughts for Mr Scrooge, supposing they ever had any tendency that way. He has given us plenty of merriment, I am sure, said Fred, and it would be ungrateful not to drink his health. Here is a glass of Muld wine ready to our hand at the moment, and I say Uncle Scrooge. Well, uncle Scrooge, they cried a merry Christmas and a happy New Year to the old man, whatever he is, said Scrooge's nephew. He wouldn't take it from me, but may he have it nevertheless, uncle Scrooge.

Jason Hovde: 2:05:08

Uncle Scrooge had in perceptibly become so happy and light of heart that he would have pledged the unconscious company in return and thanked them in an unaudible speech, if the ghost had given him time, for the whole scene passed off in a breath of the last word spoken by his nephew, and he and the spirit were again upon their travels. Much they saw and far they went, and many homes they visited, but always with a happy end. The spirit stood beside sick beds and they were cheerful on foreign lands 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, in jail, in Misery's, every Refuge where vain man in his little brief authority had not made fast the door and barred the spirit out. He left his blessing and taught Scrooge his precepts.

Jason Hovde: 2:06:01

It was a long night, if it were only a night. But Scrooge had his doubts of this because the Christmas holidays appeared to be condensed into the space of time they passed together. It was strange too that while Scrooge remained unaltered in his outward form, the ghost grew older, clearly older. Scrooge had observed this change but never spoke of it until they left a children's twelfth night party. When, looking at the spirit as they stood together in an open place, he noticed that its hair was gray. Our spirit's lives so short, asked Scrooge. My life upon this globe is very brief, replied the ghost. It ends tonight. Tonight, said Scrooge. Tonight, at midnight hark, the time is drawing near.

Jason Hovde: 2:06:48

The chimes were ringing the three quarters past eleven at that moment. Forgive me if I am not justified in what I ask, said Scrooge, looking intently at the spirit's robe. But I see something strange and not belonging to yourself protruding from your skirts. Is it a foot or a claw? It might be a claw, for all the flesh that is upon it, was the spirit's sorrowful reply. Look here.

Jason Hovde: 2:07:13

From the foldings of its robe it brought two children, wretched, abject, frightful, hideous, miserable. They knelt down at its feet and clung upon the outside of its garment. Oh man, look here, look, look down here, exclaimed the ghost. They were a boy and girl, yellow, meager, ragged, scowling wolfish, but prostrate too in their humility. Where graceful youth should have filled their features out and touched them with its freshest tints, a stale and triveled hand, like that of age, had pinched and twisted them and pulled them into shreds. Where angels might have sat enthroned, devils lurked and glared out, menacing. No change, no degradation, no perversion of humanity in any grade. Through all the mysteries of wonderful creation has monsters half so horrible and dread.

Jason Hovde: 2:08:08

Scrooge started back, appalled Having them shown to him in this way. He tried to say they were fine children, but the words choked themselves. Rather than be parties to a lie of such enormous magnitude, spirit, are they yours? Scrooge could say no more. They are man's, said the spirit, looking down upon them, and they cling to me, appealing from their fathers. This boy is ignorance, this girl is want. Beware them both and all of their degree, but most of all beware this boy, for on his brow I see that written which is doom unless the writing be erased. Deny it, cried the spirit, stretching out its hand towards the city. Slander those who tell it E admit it for your own facetious purposes and make it worse and bide the end. Have they no refuge or resource, cried Scrooge. Are there no prisons, said the spirit, turning on him for the last time with his own words. Are there no workhouses? The bell struck twelve. Scrooge looked about him for the ghost and saw it not. As the last stroke ceased to vibrate, he remembered the prediction of old Jacob Marley and, lifting up his eyes, beheld a solemn phantom, draped and hooded, coming like a mist along the ground towards him. Live for the last of the spirits.

Jason Hovde: 2:09:49

The phantom slowly, gravely, silently, approached. When it came near him, scrooge bent down upon his knee, for in the very air through which this spirit moved, it seemed to scatter gloom and misery. It was shrouded in a deep black garment which concealed its head, its face, its form, and left nothing of it visible, save one outstretched hand. But for this it would have been difficult to detach its figure from the night and separate it from the darkness by which it was surrounded. He felt that it was tall and stately when it came beside him and that its mysterious presence filled him with solemn dread. He knew no more, for the spirit neither spoke nor moved. I am in the presence of the ghost of Christmas yet to come, said Scrooge. The spirit answered not, but pointed onward with its hand. You are about to show me shadows of things that have not happened but will happen in the time before us. Scrooge pursued Is that so, spirit? The upper portion of the garment was contracted for an instant in its folds, as if the spirit had inclined its head. That was the only answer he received.

Jason Hovde: 2:11:04

Although well used to ghostly company by this time, scrooge feared the silent shape so much that his legs trembled beneath him and he found that he could hardly stand. When he prepared to follow it, the spirit paused a moment as observing his condition and giving him time to recover. But Scrooge was all the worse for this. It thrilled him with a vague, uncertain horror to know that behind the dusky shroud there were ghostly eyes intently fixed upon him while he, though he stretched his own to the outmost, could see nothing but a spectral hand and one great heap of black Ghost of the future. He exclaimed I fear you more than any specter I have seen, but as I know your purpose is to do me good and, as I hope, to live to be another man from what I was, I am prepared to bear you company and do it with a thankful heart. Will you not speak to me? It gave him no reply. The hand was pointed straight before them. Lead on, said Scrooge, lead on. The night is waning fast and it is precious time to me. I know. Lead on spirit. The phantom moved away as it had come towards him. Scrooge followed in the shadow of its dress, which bore him up. He thought and carried him along.

Jason Hovde: 2:12:22

They scarcely seemed to enter the city, for the city seemed rather to spring up about them and encompass them of its own act. But there they were, in the heart of it, on change, amongst the merchants who hurried up and down and chinked the money in their pockets and conversed in groups and looked at their watches and trifled thoughtfully with their great gold seals and so forth, as Scrooge had seen them often. The spirit stopped beside one little knot of businessmen, observing that the hand was pointed to them. Scrooge advanced to listen to their talk. No, said a great fat man with a monstrous chin.

Jason Hovde: 2:13:00

I don't know much about it either way, I only know he's dead. When did he die? Inquired another Last night, I believe. Why? What was the matter with him? Asked a third, taking a vast quantity of snuff out of a very large snuff box. I thought he'd never die, god knows, said the first with a yawn. What has he done with his money? Asked a red-faced gentleman with a pendulous excrements at the end of his nose that shook like the gills of a turkey cock. I haven't heard, said the man with the large chin, yawning again. Left it to his company. Perhaps he hasn't left it to me. That's all I know.

Jason Hovde: 2:13:40

This pleasantry was received with a general laugh. It's likely to be very cheap funeral, said the same speaker, for upon my life. I don't know of anybody to go to it. Suppose we make up a party and volunteer. I don't mind going if a lunch is provided, observed the gentleman with the excrements on his nose. But I must be fed if I make one another laugh. Well, I am the most disinterested among you, after all, said the first speaker, for I never wear black gloves and I never eat lunch. But I'll offer to go if anybody else will. When I come to think of it, I'm not at all sure that I wasn't his most particular friend, for we used to stop and speak whenever we met. Bye-bye Speakers and listeners strolled away and mixed with other groups.

Jason Hovde: 2:14:29

Scrooge knew the men and looked towards the spirit for an explanation. The phantom glided on into a street. Its finger pointed to two persons meeting. Scrooge listened again, thinking that the explanation might lie here. He knew these men also perfectly. They were men of business, very wealthy and of great importance. He had made a point always of standing well in their esteem. In a business point of view, that is, strictly in a business point of view. How are you, said one, how are you returned the other? Well said, the first Old scratch has got his own at last. Hey, so, I am told, returned the second Cold. Isn't it Seasonable for a Christmas time? You're not a skater, I suppose? No, no, something else to think of? Good morning, not another word. That was their meeting, their conversation and their parting.

Jason Hovde: 2:15:22

Scrooge was at first inclined to be surprised that the spirit should attach importance to conversations apparently so trivial, but feeling assured that they must have some hidden purpose, he set himself to consider what it was likely to be. They could scarcely be supposed to have any bearing on the death of Jacob, his old partner, for that was past and this ghost's province was the future. Nor could he think of anyone immediately connected with himself to whom he could apply them, but nothing doubting that, to whomsoever they applied, they had some latent moral. For his own improvement, he resolved to treasure up every word he heard and everything he saw, and especially to observe the shadow of himself when it appeared, for he had an expectation that the conduct of his future self would give him the clue he missed and would render the solution of these riddles easily. He looked about in that very place for his own image, but another man stood in his accustomed corner, and though the clock pointed to his usual time of day for being there. He saw no likeness of himself among the multitudes that poured in through the porch. It gave him little surprise, however, for he had been revolving in his mind a change of life and thought and hoped he saw his newborn resolutions carried out in this Quiet and dark. Beside him stood the phantom with its outstretched hand. When he roused himself from his thoughtful quest, he fancied from the turn of the hand and its situation and reference to himself that the unseen eyes were looking at him keenly. It made him shudder and feel very cold.

Jason Hovde: 2:16:57

They left the busy scene and went into an obscure part of the town where Scrooge had never penetrated before, although he recognized its situation and its bad repute. The ways were foul and narrow, the shops and houses wretched, the people half naked, drunken, slip-shot ugly Allies in archways, like so many cesspools, disgorged their offenses of smell and dirt and life upon the straggling streets, and the whole quarter reeked with crime, with filth and misery. Far in this den of infamous resort, there was a low-browed beatling shop below a penthouse roof where iron, old rags, bottles, bones and greasy oval were bought. Upon the floor within were piled up heaps of rusty keys, nails, chains, hinges, files, scales, weights and refuse iron of all kinds. Secrets that few would like to scrutinize were bred and hidden in mountains of unseemly bags, masses of corrupted fat and sepulchres of bones.

Jason Hovde: 2:18:03

Sitting in among the wares he dealt in by a charcoal stove made of bricks was a gray-haired rascal, nearly 70 years of age, who had screened himself from the cold air without by a frowsy curting of miscellaneous tatters, hung upon a line and he smoked his pipe in all the luxury of calm retirement Scrooge. And the phantom came into the presence of this man just as a woman with a heavy bundle slunk into the shop. But she had scarcely entered when another woman, similarly laden, came in too, and she was closely followed by a man in faded black who was no less startled by the sight of them than they had been upon the recognition of each other. After a short period of blank astonishment, in which the old man with the pipe had joined them, they all three burst into a laugh. Let the charwoman alone be the first, cried she who had entered first. Let the laundress alone be the second and let the undertaker's man alone be the third.

Jason Hovde: 2:19:01

Look here, old Joe. Here's a chance. If we haven't all three here met without meeting it. You couldn't have met in a better place, said old Joe, removing his pipe from his mouth. Come into the parlor. You were made free of it long ago, you know. And the other two ain't strangers. Stop till I shut the door of the shop. Ah, how it screeks. There ain't such a rusty bit of metal in the place as its own hinges, I believe, and I'm sure there's no such old bones here as mine. Haha, we're all suitable to our calling. We're well matched. Come into the parlor. Come into the parlor.

Jason Hovde: 2:19:37

The parlor was a space behind the screen of rags. The old man raked the fire together with an old sterrod and, having trimmed his smoky lamp for it was night with the stem of his pipe, put it in his mouth again. While he did this, the woman who had already spoken threw her bundle on the floor and sat down in a flaunting manner on a stool, crossing her elbows on her knees and looking with a bold defiance at the other two. What odds, then? What odds, mrs Dilberg, said the woman. Every person has a right to take care of themselves. He always did. That's true, indeed, said the laundress. No man more so. Why then Don't stand staring as if you were afraid, woman. Who's the wiser? We're not going to pick holes in each other's coats. I suppose no, indeed, said Mrs Dilberg and the man together. We should hope not. Very well then, cried the woman. That's enough. Who's the worse for a loss of a few things like these? Not a dead man? I suppose no, indeed, said Mrs Dilberg, laughing, if he wanted to keep him after he was dead.

Jason Hovde: 2:20:43

A wicked old screw, pursued the woman. Why wasn't he unnatural in his lifetime? If he had been, he would have had someone to look after him when he was struck with death, instead of lying gasping out his last there alone by himself. It's the truest word that ever was. Spoke, said Mrs Dilberg. It's a judgment on him. I wish it was a little heavier judgment, replied the woman. And it should have been. You may depend upon it if I could have laid my hands on anything else.

Jason Hovde: 2:21:12

Open that bundle, old Joe, and let me know the value of it. Speak out plain. I am not afraid to be the first, nor afraid for them to see it. We know pretty well that we were helping ourselves before we met here. I believe it's no sin. Open the bundle, joe, but the gallant-reaver friends would not allow of this. And the man in faded black mounting.

Jason Hovde: 2:21:33

The breach first produced his plunder. It was not extensive A seal or two, a pencil case, a pair of sleeve buttons and a brooch of no great value were all. They were severally examined and appraised by old Joe, who chalked the sums he was disposed to give for each upon the wall and added them up into a total when he found there was nothing more to come. That's your account, said Joe, and I wouldn't give another six pence if I was to be boiled for not doing it. Who's next? Mrs Dilberg was next. Sheets and towels, a little-wearing apparel, two old-fashioned silver teaspoons, a pair of sugar tongs and a few boots. Her account was stated on the wall in the same manner I always give too much to ladies. It's a weakness of mine and that's the way I ruin myself, said old Joe. That's your account.

Jason Hovde: 2:22:24

If you asked me for another penny and made it an open question, I'd repent of being so liberal and knock off half a crown and now undo my bundle, joe, said the first woman. Joe went down on his knees for the greater convenience of opening it and, having unfastened a great many knots, dragged out a large and heavy roll of some dark stuff. What do you call this? Said Joe. Bed curtains, ah, returned the woman, laughing and leaning toward on her crossed arms. Bed curtains, you don't mean to say you took him down rings in awe with him lying there, said Joe.

Jason Hovde: 2:22:58

Yes, I do, replied the woman. Why not? You were born to make your fortune, said Joe, and you'll certainly do it. I certainly shan't hold my hand when I can get anything in it by reaching it out for the sake of a man as he was. I promise you, joe, said the woman coolly, don't drop that oil upon the blankets now His blankets, asked Joe. Who else do you think, replied the woman, he isn't likely to take cold without him, I daresay I hope he didn't die of anything catching. Eh, said old Joe, stopping in his work and looking up. Don't you be afraid of that? Returned the woman. I ain't so fond of his company that I'd loiter about him for such things if he did. Ah, you may look through that shirt till your eyes ache, but you won't find a hole in it, nor a threadbare place. It's the best he had, and a fine one too. They'd have wasted it if it hadn't been for me. What do you call wasting of it, asked old Joe, putting it on him to be buried in, to be sure, replied the woman with a laugh. He was fool enough to do it, but I took it off again. If Calico ain't good enough for such a purpose, it isn't good enough for anything. It's quite as becoming to the body. He can't look uglier than he did in that.

Jason Hovde: 2:24:13

One Scrooge listened to this dialogue in horror. As they sat grouped about their spoil in the scanty light afforded by the old man's lab, he viewed them with a detestation and disgust which could hardly have been greater, though they had been obscene demons marketing the corpse itself. Ha-ha, laughed the same woman when old Joe, producing a flannel bag with money in it, told out their several gains upon the ground. This is the end of it, you see. He frightened everyone away from him when he was alive, to profit us when he was dead. Ha-ha-ha Spirit, said Scrooge, shuddering from head to foot. I see, I see. The case of this unhappy man might be my own. My life tends that way. Now, merciful heaven, what is this?

Jason Hovde: 2:25:00

He recoiled in terror, for the scene had changed, and now he almost touched a bed, a bare, uncurtained bed, on which, beneath a ragged sheet, there lay a something covered up which, though it was dumb, announced itself in awful language. The room was very dark, too dark to be observed with any accuracy, Though Scrooge glanced round it in obedience to the secret impulse, anxious to know what kind of room it was. A pale light rising in the outer air fell straight upon the bed and on it, plundered and bereft, unwatched, unswept, uncared for, was the body of this man. Scrooge glanced towards the phantom. Its steady hand was pointed to the head. The cover was so carelessly adjusted that the slightest raising of it, the motion of a finger upon Scrooge's part, would have disclosed the face.

Jason Hovde: 2:25:56

He thought of it, felt how easy it would be to do and longed to do it, but he had no more power to withdraw the veil than to dismiss the specter at his side. O cold, cold, rigid, dreadful death, set up thine altar here and dress it with such terrors as thou hast at thy command, for this is thy dominion. But of the loved, revered and honored head, thou canst not turn one hair to thy dread purposes or make one feature odious. It is not that the hand is heavy and will fall down when raised. It is not that the heart and pulse are still, but that the hand was open, generous and true, the heart brave, warm and tender and the pulse of man's Like shadow strike and see his good deeds springing from the wound to sow the world with life and mortal. No voice pronounced these words in Scrooge's ears, and yet he heard them. When he looked upon the bed, he thought if this man could be raised up now, what would be his foremost thoughts? Averus, hard-dealing, griping cares. They have brought him to a rich end, truly. He lay in the dark, empty house with not a man, a woman or a child to say that he was kind to me in this or that, and for the memory of one kind word, I will be kind to him.

Jason Hovde: 2:27:23

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

Jason Hovde: 2:28:10

The phantom spread its dark robe before him for a moment, like a wing, and withdrawing it revealed a room by daylight, where a mother and her children were. She was expecting someone, and with anxious eagerness, for she walked up and down the room, started at every sound, looked out from the window, glanced at the clock, tried, but in vain, to work with her needle and could hardly bear the voices of the children in their play. At length, the long-expected knock was heard. She hurried to the door and met her husband, a man whose face was care-worn and depressed. Though he was young, there was a remarkable expression in it now, a kind of serious delight of which he felt ashamed and which he struggled to repress. He sat down to the dinner that had been hoarding for him by the fire, and when she asked him faintly what news which was not until after a long silence he appeared embarrassed. How to answer? Is it good, she said, or bad? To help him. Bad, he answered we are quite ruined. No, there is hope yet, caroline, if he relents, she said, amazed, there is Nothing is past hope if such a miracle has happened. He's past relenting, said her husband. He is dead.

Jason Hovde: 2:29:28

She was a mild and patient creature if her face spoke truth, but she was thankful in her soul to hear it and she said so with clasped hands. She prayed forgiveness the next moment and was sorry, but the first was the emotion of her heart. What the half-drunken woman whom I told you of last night said to me when I tried to see him and obtain a week's delay, and what I thought was a mere excuse to avoid me, turns out to have been quite true he was not only very ill but dying. Then To whom will I debt be transferred? I don't know. But before that time we shall be ready with the money. And even though we were not, it would be a bad fortune indeed to find so mercilessly a creditor in his successor. We may sleep tonight with light hearts, caroline. Yes, softened as they would.

Jason Hovde: 2:30:17

Their hearts were lighter, the children's faces hushed and clustered round to hear what they so little understood were brighter, and it was a happier house for this man's death. The only emotion that the ghost could show him, caused by the event was one of pleasure. Let me see some tenderness connected with a death, said Scrooge, or that dark chamber spirit which we left just now, will forever be present to me. The ghost conducted him through several streets familiar to his feet and as they went along, scrooge looked here and there to find himself, but nowhere was he to be seen.

Jason Hovde: 2:30:54

They entered poor Bob Cratchit's house, the dwelling he had visited before, and found the mother and the children seated round the fire, quiet, very quiet. The noisy little Cratchits were still as statues in one corner and sat looking up at Peter who had a book before him. The mother and her daughters were engaged in sewing, but surely they were very quiet, and he took a child and set him in the midst of them. Where had Scrooge heard these words? He had not dreamed them. The boy must have read them out as he and the spirit crossed the threshold. Why did he not go on?

Jason Hovde: 2:31:34

The mother laid her work on the table and put her hand up to her face. The color hurts my eyes, she said. The color, ah, poor tiny Tim. They're better now again, said Cratchit's wife. It makes them weak by candlelight. And I wouldn't show weak eyes to your father when he comes home for the world it must be near his time Past it rather. Peter answered shutting up his book. But I think he has walked a little slower than he used these few.

Jason Hovde: 2:32:03

Last evening's mother they were very quiet again At last she said in a steady, cheerful voice that only faltered once. I have known him to walk with tiny Tim upon his shoulder very fast indeed, and so have I cried, peter, often, and so have I exclaimed another so had all. But he was very light to carry. She resumed, intent upon her work, and his father loved him so that it was no trouble. No trouble, and there is your father at the door. She hurried out to meet him and little Bob in his comforter. He had need of it.

Jason Hovde: 2:32:42

Poor fellow came in, his tea was ready for him on the hob and they all tried. Who should help him to it the most? Then the two young Cratchits got upon his knees and laid each child a little cheek against his face, as if they said don't mind it, father, don't be grieved. Bob was very cheerful with him and spoke pleasantly to all the family. He looked at the work upon the table and praised the industry and speed of Mrs Cratchit and the girls. They would be done long before Sunday.

Jason Hovde: 2:33:12

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

Jason Hovde: 2:34:11

Bob told them of the extraordinary kindness of Mr Scrooge's nephew, whom he had scarcely seen but once and who, meeting him in the street that day and seeing that he looked a little, just a little, down, you know, said Bob, and inquired what had happened to distress him On which, said Bob, for he is the pleasantest spoken gentleman you ever heard. I told him I am heartily sorry for it, mr Cratchit. He said and heartily sorry for your good wife, by the by how he ever knew that I don't know. Knew what my dear, why that you were a good wife, replied Bob. Everybody knows that, said Peter. Very well observed my boy, cried Bob, I hope they do. Heartily sorry, he said, for your good wife, if I can be of service to you in any way. He said, giving me his card. That's where I live. Pray, come to me Now.

Jason Hovde: 2:35:05

It wasn't, cried Bob, for the sake of anything he might be able to do for us, so much as for his kind way that this was quite delightful. It really seemed as if he had known our tiny Tim and felt with us. I'm sure he's a good soul, said Mrs Cratchit, you would be sure of it. My dear returned Bob, if you saw and spoke to him, I shouldn't be at all surprised. Mark what I say if he got Peter a better situation.

Jason Hovde: 2:35:33

Only hear that Peter, said Mrs Cratchit, and then cried one of the girls, peter will be keeping company with someone and setting up for himself. Get along with you, retorted Peter grinning. It's just as likely as not, said Bob. One of these days, though, there's plenty of time for that, my dear. But however, and whenever we shall part for one another, I am sure we shall none of us forget poor tiny Tim, shall we, or this first parting that there was among us. Never, father, cried they all. And I know, said Bob, I know, my dears, that when we recollect how patient and how mild he was although he was a little little child, we shall not quarrel easily among ourselves and forget poor tiny Tim. And doing it. No, never, father. They all cried again. I am very happy, said little Bob, I am very happy. Mrs Cratchit kissed him, his daughters kissed him, the two young Cratchits kissed him, and Peter and himself shook hands.

Jason Hovde: 2:36:37

Spirit of tiny Tim, thy childless essence was from God. Spectre said Scrooge. Something informs me that our parting moment is at hand. I know it, but I know not how. Tell me what man that was whom we saw lying dead. The ghost of Christmas yet to come conveyed him as before, though at a different time. He thought, indeed, there seemed to no order in these latter visions, save that they were in the future into the resorts of businessmen, but showed him not himself. Indeed, the Spirit did not stay for anything but went straight on as to the end, just now, desired until be sought by Scrooge to tarry for a moment.

Jason Hovde: 2:37:20

This court said Scrooge, through which we hurry now, is where my place of occupation is and has been for a length of time. I see the house. Let me behold what I shall be in days to come". The Spirit stopped. The hand was pointed elsewhere. The house is yonder, scrooge exclaimed. Why do you point away? The inexorable finger underwent no change.

Jason Hovde: 2:37:43

Scrooge hastened to the window of his office and looked in. It was an office still, but not his. The furniture was not the same and the figure in the chair was not himself. The phantom pointed as before. He joined it once again and, wondering why and whether he had gone, accompanied it until they reached an iron gate. He paused to look round before entering A churchyard. Here, then, the wretched man whose name he had now to learn lay underneath the ground. It was a worthy place, walled in by houses, overrun by grass and weeds, the growth of vegetation's death, not life, choked up with too much bearing fat, with repleted appetite. A worthy place.

Jason Hovde: 2:38:31

The Spirit stood among the graves and pointed down to one. He advanced towards it trembling. The phantom was exactly as it had been, but he dreaded that he saw new meaning in its solemn shape. Before I draw nearer to that stone to which he points, said Scrooge, answer me one question Are these the shadows of things that will be, or are they shadows of things that may be only Still? The ghost pointed downward to the grave by which it stood. Men's courses will foreshadow certain ends to which, if persevered in, they must lead, said Scrooge. But if the courses be departed from, the ends will change. Say it is thus with what you show me, the Spirit was immovable, as ever.

Jason Hovde: 2:39:16

Scrooge crept towards it, trembling as he went and, following the finger, read upon the stone of the neglected grave his own name Ebenezer Scrooge. Am I that man who lay upon the bed? He cried upon his knees. The finger pointed from the grave to him and back again. No, spirit, oh, no, no, the finger still was there. Spirit, he cried tight, clutching at its robe. Hear me, I am not the man I was. I will not be the man I must have been, but for this intercourse. Why show me this if I am past all hope For the first time the hand appeared to shake.

Jason Hovde: 2:39:56

Good Spirit he pursued as down upon the ground, he fell before it. Your nature intercedes for me and pities me. Assure me that I yet may change these shadows you have shown me by an altered life. The kind hand trembled. I will honor Christmas in my heart and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the past, the present and the future. The spirits of all three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach. Oh, tell me, I may sponge away the writing on this stone.

Jason Hovde: 2:40:31

In his agony he caught the spectral hand. It sought to free itself, but he was strong in his entreaty and detained it. The spirit, stronger yet, repulsed him, holding up his hands in a last prayer to have his fate reversed. He saw an alteration in the phantom's hood and dress. It shrunk, collapsed and dwindled down into a bed post. The bed was his own, the room was his own, best and happiest of all, the time before him was his own to make amends in. I will live in the past, the present and the future, scrooge repeated as he scrambled out of bed. The spirits of all three shall strive within me. Oh, jacob Marley. Heaven and the Christmas time be praised for this. I say it on my knees, old Jacob, on my knees.

Jason Hovde: 2:41:42

He was so fluttered and so glowing with his good intentions that his broken voice would scarcely answer to his call. He had been sobbing violently in his conflict with the spirit and his face was wet with tears. They are not torn down, cried Scrooge, folding one of his bed curtains in his arms. They are not torn down. Rings and all they are here. I am here. The shadows of the things that would have been may be dispelled. They will be, I know they will be.

Jason Hovde: 2:42:13

His hands were busy with his garments all this time, turning them inside out, putting them on upside down, burying them, mislaying them, making them parties to every kind of extravagance. I don't know what to do, cried Scrooge, laughing and crying in the same breath and making a perfect leo-kuin of himself with his stockings. I am as light as a feather. I am as happy as an angel. I am as merry as a schoolboy. I am as giddy as a drunken man. A merry Christmas to everybody. A happy new year to all the world. Hello there, whoop. Hello.

Jason Hovde: 2:42:49

He had frisked into the sitting room and was now standing there, perfectly winded. There is the saucepan that the gruel was in, cried Scrooge, starting off again and going round the fireplace. There is the door by which the ghost of Jacob Marley entered. There is the corner where the ghost of Christmas presents sat. There is the window where I saw the wandering spirits. It's all true, it's all true, it all happened. Ha ha ha. Really, for a man who had been out of practice for so many years, it was a splendid laugh, a most illustrious laugh, the father of a long, long line of brilliant laughs.

Jason Hovde: 2:43:26

I don't know what day of the month it is said, scrooge. I don't know how long I've been among the spirits. I don't know anything. I'm quite a baby. Never mind, I don't care, I'd rather be a baby. Hello, whoop, hello. There.

Jason Hovde: 2:43:40

He was checked in his transports by the churches ringing out the lustiest peals he had ever heard Clash, clang, hammer, ding, dong, bell, bell, ding, dong, hammer, clang, clash. Oh, glorious, glorious. Running to the window, he opened it and put out his head. No fog, no mist, clear, bright, jovial, stirring, cold, cold piping for the blood to dance to Golden sunlight, heavenly sky, sweet, fresh air, merry bells. Oh, glorious, glorious. What's today?

Jason Hovde: 2:44:18

Cried Scrooge, calling downward to a boy in Sunday clothes who perhaps had loitered in to look upon him. A returned the boy with all his might of wonder. What's today, my fine fellow? Said Scrooge Today, replied the boy. Why Christmas day. It's Christmas day, said Scrooge to himself. I haven't missed it.

Jason Hovde: 2:44:40

The spirits must have done it all in one night. They can do anything they like. Of course they can. Of course they can. Hello, my fine fellow. Hello, return the boy.

Jason Hovde: 2:44:50

Do you know the polters in the next street? But one at the corner? Scrooge, inquired. I should hope I did, replied the lad, an intelligent boy, said Scrooge, a remarkable boy. Do you know whether they've sold the prize turkey that was hanging up there? Not the little prize, turkey, the big one. What the one. As big as me? Replied the boy. What a delightful boy, said Scrooge, it's a pleasure to talk to him. Yes, my buck, it's hanging there now, replied the boy. Is it, said Scrooge, go and buy it, walk rrrr. Replied the boy. No, no, said Scrooge, I am in earnest. Go and buy it and tell him to bring it here that I may give them the direction where to take it. Come back with the man and I'll give you a shilling. Come back with him in less than five minutes and I'll give you half a crown.

Jason Hovde: 2:45:39

The boy was off like a shot. He must have a steady hand at a trigger. Who could have got a shot off half so fast? I'll send it to Bob Cratchit, whispered Scrooge, rubbing his hands and splitting with a laugh. He shan't know who sends it. It's twice the size of Tiny Tim. Joe Miller never made such a joke as sending it to Bob's Will Bee.

Jason Hovde: 2:46:00

The hand in which he wrote the address was not a steady one, but right at, he did somehow and went downstairs to open the street door ready for the coming of the polterer's man. As he stood there waiting his arrival, the knocker caught his eye. I shall love it as long as I live, cried Scrooge, patting it with his hand. I scarcely ever looked at it before. What an honest expression it has in its face. It's a wonderful knocker. Here's the turkey. Hello whoop, how are you, merry Christmas? It was a turkey.

Jason Hovde: 2:46:31

He never could have stood upon his legs, that bird. He would have snapped them short off in a minute like sticks of ceiling wax. Why, it's impossible to carry that to Camden Town, said Scrooge. You must have a cab. The chuckle with which he said this and the chuckle with which he paid for the turkey and the chuckle with which he paid for the cab and the chuckle with which he recompensed the boy were only to be exceeded by the chuckle with which he sat down breathless in his chair again and chuckled till he cried.

Jason Hovde: 2:47:01

Shaving was not an easy task, for his hand continued to shake very much and shaving requires attention, even when you don't dance while you're at it. But if he had to cut the end of his nose off, he would have put a piece of sticking plaster over it and had been quite satisfied. He dressed himself all in his best and at last got out into the streets. The people were by this time pouring forth, as he had seen them do, with the Ghost of Christmas present and walking with his hands behind him. Scrooge regarded everyone with a delighted smile. He looked so irresistibly pleasant in a word, that three or four good-humored fellows said Good morning, sir, a merry Christmas to you.

Jason Hovde: 2:47:43

And Scrooge said often afterwards that of all the blithe sounds he had ever heard, those were the blithest in his ears. He had not gone far when, coming on towards him, he beheld the portly gentleman who had walked into his counting-house the day before and said Scrooge and Marley's. I believe it sent a pang across his heart to think how this old gentleman would look upon him when they met. But he knew what path lay straight before him and took it. My dear sir, said Scrooge, quickening his pace and taking the old gentleman by both his hands. How do you do? I hope you succeeded yesterday. It was very kind of you. A merry Christmas to you, sir, mr Scrooge. Yes, said Scrooge, that is my name and I fear it may not be pleasant to you. Allow me to ask your pardon, and will you have the goodness here, scrooge, whispered in his ear. Lord, bless me, cried the gentleman as if his breath were taken away. My dear Mr Scrooge, are you serious If you please, said Scrooge. Not a farthing less. A great many back payments are included in it. I assure you. Will you do me that favor? My dear sir, said the other, shaking hands with him. I don't know what to say to such munis. Don't say anything. Please, retorted Scrooge, come and see me. Will you come and see me? I will, cried the old gentleman, and it was clear he meant to. Thank you, said Scrooge. I am much obliged to you. I thank you fifty times. Bless you.

Jason Hovde: 2:49:12

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

Jason Hovde: 2:50:08

They were looking at the table which was spread out in great array, for these young housekeepers are always nervous on such points and like to see that everything is right. Fred, said Scrooge, dear heart alive, how his niece by marriage started. Scrooge had forgotten for the moment about her sitting in the corner with the footstool, or he wouldn't have done it on any account. Why, bless my soul, cried Fred. Who's that? It's I, your uncle, scrooge. I have come to dinner. Will you let me in, fred? Let him in. It is a mercy. He didn't shake his arm off. He was at home in five minutes. Nothing could be hardier. His niece looked just the same. So did Topper when he came. So did the plump sister when she came. So did everyone when they came. Wonderful party, wonderful games, wonderful unanimity, wonderful happiness.

Jason Hovde: 2:51:00

But he was early at the office next morning. Oh, he was early there. If he could only be there first and catch Bob Cratchit coming late. That was the thing he had set his heart upon and he did it. Yes, he did it. The clock struck nine. No, bob. A quarter past. No, bob, he was a full 18 minutes and a half behind his time.

Jason Hovde: 2:51:24

Scrooge sat with his door wide open that he might see him come into the tank. His hat was off. Before he opened the door his comfort or two. He was on his stool in a jiffy, driving away with his pen as if he were trying to overtake nine o'clock. Hello, growled Scrooge and his accustomed voice as near as he could faint it.

Jason Hovde: 2:51:42

What do you mean by coming here at this time of day? I am very sorry, sir, said Bob, I am behind my time. You are repeated, scrooge. Yes, I think you are. Step this way, sir, if you please. It's only once a year, sir, pleaded Bob appearing from the tank. It shall not be repeated. I was making rather merry yesterday, sir.

Jason Hovde: 2:52:05

Now I'll tell you what my friend said. Scrooge, I am not going to stand this sort of thing any longer. And therefore he continued leaping from his stool and giving Bob such a dig in the waistcoat that he staggered back into the tank again and therefore I am about to raise your salary. Bob trembled and got a little nearer to the ruler. He had a momentary idea of knocking Scrooge down with it, holding him and calling to the people in the court for help in a straight waistcoat. A merry Christmas, bob, said Scrooge with an earnestness that could not be mistaken as he clapped him on the back. A merrier Christmas, bob, my good fellow, than I have given you for many a year. I'll raise your salary and endeavor to assist your struggling family, and we will discuss your affairs this very afternoon over a Christmas bowl of smoking. Bishop Bob, make up the fires and buy another coal scuttle before you dot another I,

Jason Hovde: 2:53:04

Bob Cratchit! Scrooge was better than his word. He did it all and infinitely more. And to Tiny Tim, who did not die, he was a second father. He became as good a friend, as good a master and as good a man as the good old city knew, or any other good old city, town or borough in the good old world. Some people laughed to see the alteration in him, but he let them laugh and little heeded them, for he was wise enough to know that nothing ever happened on this globe for good at which some people did not have their fill of laughter in the outset, and knowing that such as these would be blind anyway, he thought it quite as well that they should wrinkle up their eyes and grins, as have the malady and less attractive forms. His own heart laughed, and that was quite enough for him. He had no further intercourse with spirits, but lived upon the total abstinence principle ever afterwards, and it was always said of him that he knew how to keep Christmas. Well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge, may that be truly said of us and all of us. And so, as Tiny Tim observed. God bless us every one.

Jason Hovde: 2:54:23

I hope you've enjoyed listening to A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens and I encourage you to go and visit our sponsor's website, Jenelle Hovde. She's a great author and if you go to her website today and sign up for her email list, you will get a free e-book, which I have read, and it is a phenomenal short story that will give you an opportunity to get to know her work. So go and check out her website, which will be linked in the show notes on this podcast. Have a Merry Christmas!