A CHRISTMAS CAROL (IN PROSE BEING, A Ghost Story of Christmas)<\/p>\n
by Charles Dickens<\/p>\n
(OCF editing – Part 10)<\/p>\n
There were more dances, and there were forfeits, and more<\/strong><\/p>\n dances, and there was cake, and there was negus, and there<\/strong><\/p>\n was a great piece of Cold Roast, and there was a great piece<\/strong><\/p>\n of Cold Boiled, and there were mince-pies, and plenty of beer.<\/strong><\/p>\n But the great effect of the evening came after the Roast<\/strong><\/p>\n and Boiled, when the fiddler (an artful dog, mind! The sort<\/strong><\/p>\n of man who knew his business better than you or I could<\/strong><\/p>\n have told it him!) struck up “Sir Roger de Coverley.”\u00a0 Then<\/strong><\/p>\n old Fezziwig stood out to dance with Mrs. Fezziwig. Top<\/strong><\/p>\n couple, too; with a good stiff piece of work cut out for them;<\/strong><\/p>\n three or four and twenty pair of partners; people who were<\/strong><\/p>\n not to be trifled with; people who would dance, and had no<\/strong><\/p>\n notion of walking.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n But if they had been twice as many–ah, four times–old<\/strong><\/p>\n Fezziwig would have been a match for them, and so would<\/strong><\/p>\n Mrs. Fezziwig. As to her, she was worthy to be his partner<\/strong><\/p>\n in every sense of the term. If that’s not high praise, tell me<\/strong><\/p>\n higher, and I’ll use it. A positive light appeared to issue<\/strong><\/p>\n from Fezziwig’s calves. They shone in every part of the<\/strong><\/p>\n dance like moons. You couldn’t have predicted, at any given<\/strong><\/p>\n time, what would have become of them next. And when old<\/strong><\/p>\n Fezziwig and Mrs. Fezziwig had gone all through the dance;<\/strong><\/p>\n advance and retire, both hands to your partner, bow and<\/strong><\/p>\n curtsey, corkscrew, thread-the-needle, and back again to<\/strong><\/p>\n your place; Fezziwig “cut”–cut so deftly, that he appeared<\/strong><\/p>\n to wink with his legs, and came upon his feet again without<\/strong><\/p>\n a stagger.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n When the clock struck eleven, this domestic ball broke up.<\/strong><\/p>\n Mr. and Mrs. Fezziwig took their stations, one on either side<\/strong><\/p>\n of the door, and shaking hands with every person individually<\/strong><\/p>\n as he or she went out, wished him or her a Merry Christmas.<\/strong><\/p>\n When everybody had retired but the two ‘prentices, they did<\/strong><\/p>\n the same to them; and thus the cheerful voices died away,<\/strong><\/p>\n and the lads were left to their beds; which were under a<\/strong><\/p>\n counter in the back-shop.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n During the whole of this time, Scrooge had acted like a<\/strong><\/p>\n man out of his wits. His heart and soul were in the scene,<\/strong><\/p>\n and with his former self. He corroborated everything,<\/strong><\/p>\n remembered everything, enjoyed everything, and underwent<\/strong><\/p>\n the strangest agitation. It was not until now, when the<\/strong><\/p>\n bright faces of his former self and Dick were turned from<\/strong><\/p>\n them, that he remembered the Ghost, and became conscious<\/strong><\/p>\n that it was looking full upon him, while the light upon its<\/strong><\/p>\n head burnt very clear.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n “A small matter,” said the Ghost, “to make these silly<\/strong><\/p>\n folks so full of gratitude.”<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n “Small!” echoed Scrooge.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n The Spirit signed to him to listen to the two apprentices,<\/strong><\/p>\n who were pouring out their hearts in praise of Fezziwig:<\/strong><\/p>\n and when he had done so, said,<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n “Why! Is it not? He has spent but a few pounds of<\/strong><\/p>\n your mortal money: three or four perhaps. Is that so<\/strong><\/p>\n much that he deserves this praise?”<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n “It isn’t that,” said Scrooge, heated by the remark, and<\/strong><\/p>\n speaking unconsciously like his former, not his latter, self.<\/strong><\/p>\n “It isn’t that, Spirit. He has the power to render us happy<\/strong><\/p>\n or unhappy; to make our service light or burdensome; a<\/strong><\/p>\n pleasure or a toil. Say that his power lies in words and<\/strong><\/p>\n looks; in things so slight and insignificant that it is<\/strong><\/p>\n impossible to add and count ’em up: what then? The happiness<\/strong><\/p>\n he gives, is quite as great as if it cost a fortune.”<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n He felt the Spirit’s glance, and stopped.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n “What is the matter?” asked the Ghost.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n “Nothing particular,” said Scrooge.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n “Something, I think?” the Ghost insisted.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n “No,” said Scrooge, “No. I should like to be able to say<\/strong><\/p>\n a word or two to my clerk just now. That’s all.”<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n His former self turned down the lamps as he gave utterance<\/strong><\/p>\n to the wish; and Scrooge and the Ghost again stood side by<\/strong><\/p>\n side in the open air.<\/strong><\/p>\n Charles Dickens<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" A CHRISTMAS CAROL (IN PROSE BEING, A Ghost Story of Christmas) by Charles Dickens (OCF editing – Part 10) There were more dances, and there<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_mi_skip_tracking":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_active":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_note":"","_exactmetrics_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[701],"tags":[1011,1010,94,744],"class_list":["post-17002","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-quote-of-the-day","tag-a-christmas-carol","tag-charles-dickens","tag-christmas","tag-quote-of-the-day"],"yoast_head":"\n