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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-roomed house. 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 sixpence; and she laid the cloth, assisted by Belinda Cratchit, second of her daughters, also brave in ribbons; while Master Peter Cratchit plunged a fork into the saucepan of potatoes, and getting the corners of his monstrous shirt collar (Bob’s private property, conferred upon his son and heir in honour of the day) into his mouth, rejoiced to find himself so gallantly attired, and yearned to show his linen in the fashionable Parks. And now two smaller Cratchits, boy and girl, came tearing in, screaming that outside the baker’s they had smelt the 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 then.’ said Mrs Cratchit. ‘And your brother, Tiny Tim. And Martha warn’t as late last Christmas Day by half-an-hour.’ ‘Here’s Martha, mother.’ said a girl, appearing as she spoke. 60 Sons and Lovers
‘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 her a dozen times, and taking off her shawl and bonnet for her with officious zeal. ‘We’d a 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 before 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.’ So Martha hid herself, and in came little Bob, the father, with at least three feet of comforter exclusive of the fringe, hanging down before him; and his 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 in his high spirits; for he had been Tim’s blood horse all the way from church, and had come home rampant. ‘Not coming upon Christmas Day.’ Martha didn’t like to see him disappointed, if it were only in joke; so she came out prematurely from behind the closet door, and ran into his arms, while the two young Cratchits Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 61
Page 1 and 2:
A Christmas Carol By Charles Dicken
Page 3 and 4:
Stave 1: Marley’s Ghost M arley w
Page 5 and 6:
wind that blew was bitterer than he
Page 7 and 8:
you to be merry? What reason have y
Page 9 and 10: y Christmas. ‘Good afternoon!’
Page 11 and 12: ‘Under the impression that they s
Page 13 and 14: nose with a touch of such weather a
Page 15 and 16: in the city of London, even includi
Page 17 and 18: pan of gruel (Scrooge had a cold in
Page 19 and 20: It was long, and wound about him li
Page 21 and 22: ‘You see this toothpick?’ said
Page 23 and 24: It was a habit with Scrooge, whenev
Page 25 and 26: ‘Thank ‘ee!’ ‘You will be h
Page 27 and 28: had locked it with his own hands, a
Page 29 and 30: he could make out was, that it was
Page 31 and 32: wore a tunic of the purest white, a
Page 33 and 34: hand, was not to be resisted. He ro
Page 35 and 36: hanging in it. It was a large house
Page 37 and 38: ‘but it’s too late now.’ ‘W
Page 39 and 40: time tied on to the top of the chai
Page 41 and 42: cleared away, or couldn’t have cl
Page 43 and 44: dance; advance and retire, both han
Page 45 and 46: in a mourning-dress: in whose eyes
Page 47 and 48: ‘You may — the memory of what i
Page 49 and 50: a fictitious turkey, glued on a woo
Page 51 and 52: Stave 3: The Second of the Three Sp
Page 53 and 54: and ceiling were so hung with livin
Page 55 and 56: the fire, the ruddy glow, the hour
Page 57 and 58: such glimpses. It was not alone tha
Page 59: ‘You would deprive them of their
Page 63 and 64: gravy (ready beforehand in a little
Page 65 and 66: and at Bob Cratchit’s elbow stood
Page 67 and 68: shadow on the party, which was not
Page 69 and 70: efore, dotting the dusky street wit
Page 71 and 72: low his breath to his companion of
Page 73 and 74: ‘Oh, I have.’ said Scrooge’s
Page 75 and 76: hands, without resorting to the sex
Page 77 and 78: posed, elicited from him that he wa
Page 79 and 80: ‘To-night.’ cried Scrooge. ‘T
Page 81 and 82: Stave 4: The Last of the Spirits T
Page 83 and 84: groups, and looked at their watches
Page 85 and 86: purpose, he set himself to consider
Page 87 and 88: had entered first. ‘Let the laund
Page 89 and 90: other sixpence, if I was to be boil
Page 91 and 92: He recoiled in terror, for the scen
Page 93 and 94: tried, but in vain, to work with he
Page 95 and 96: ‘The colour hurts my eyes,’ she
Page 97 and 98: ‘Heartily sorry,’ he said,’ f
Page 99 and 100: worthy place. Walled in by houses;
Page 101 and 102: Stave 5: The End of It Y es! and th
Page 103 and 104: oy in Sunday clothes, who perhaps h
Page 105 and 106: the end of his nose off, he would h
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