A CHRISTMAS CAROL (IN PROSE BEING, A Ghost Story of Christmas)<\/p>\n
by Charles Dickens<\/p>\n
(OCF editing – Part 12)<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
“Spirit!” said Scrooge, “show me no more! Conduct<\/strong><\/p>\n me home. Why do you delight to torture me?”<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n “One shadow more!” exclaimed the Ghost.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n “No more!” cried Scrooge. “No more. I don’t wish to<\/strong><\/p>\n see it. Show me no more!”<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n But the relentless Ghost pinioned him in both his arms,<\/strong><\/p>\n and forced him to observe what happened next.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n They were in another scene and place; a room, not very<\/strong><\/p>\n large or handsome, but full of comfort. Near to the winter<\/strong><\/p>\n fire sat a beautiful young girl, so like that last that Scrooge<\/strong><\/p>\n believed it was the same, until he saw her, now a comely<\/strong><\/p>\n matron, sitting opposite her daughter. The noise in this<\/strong><\/p>\n room was perfectly tumultuous, for there were more children<\/strong><\/p>\n there, than Scrooge in his agitated state of mind could count;<\/strong><\/p>\n and, unlike the celebrated herd in the poem, they were not<\/strong><\/p>\n forty children conducting themselves like one, but every<\/strong><\/p>\n child was conducting itself like forty. The consequences<\/strong><\/p>\n were uproarious beyond belief; but no one seemed to care;<\/strong><\/p>\n on the contrary, the mother and daughter laughed heartily,<\/strong><\/p>\n and enjoyed it very much; and the latter, soon beginning to<\/strong><\/p>\n mingle in the sports, got pillaged by the young brigands<\/strong><\/p>\n most ruthlessly. What would I not have given to be one of<\/strong><\/p>\n them! Though I never could have been so rude, no, no! I<\/strong><\/p>\n wouldn’t for the wealth of all the world have crushed that<\/strong><\/p>\n braided hair, and torn it down; and for the precious little<\/strong><\/p>\n shoe, I wouldn’t have plucked it off, God bless my soul! to<\/strong><\/p>\n save my life. As to measuring her waist in sport, as they<\/strong><\/p>\n did, bold young brood, I couldn’t have done it; I should<\/strong><\/p>\n have expected my arm to have grown round it for a punishment,<\/strong><\/p>\n and never come straight again. And yet I should<\/strong><\/p>\n have dearly liked, I own, to have touched her lips; to have<\/strong><\/p>\n questioned her, that she might have opened them; to have<\/strong><\/p>\n looked upon the lashes of her downcast eyes, and never<\/strong><\/p>\n raised a blush; to have let loose waves of hair, an inch of<\/strong><\/p>\n which would be a keepsake beyond price: in short, I should<\/strong><\/p>\n have liked, I do confess, to have had the lightest licence<\/strong><\/p>\n of a child, and yet to have been man enough to know its<\/strong><\/p>\n value.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n But now a knocking at the door was heard, and such a<\/strong><\/p>\n rush immediately ensued that she with laughing face and<\/strong><\/p>\n plundered dress was borne towards it the centre of a flushed<\/strong><\/p>\n and boisterous group, just in time to greet the father, who<\/strong><\/p>\n came home attended by a man laden with Christmas toys<\/strong><\/p>\n and presents. Then the shouting and the struggling, and<\/strong><\/p>\n the onslaught that was made on the defenceless porter!<\/strong><\/p>\n The scaling him with chairs for ladders to dive into his<\/strong><\/p>\n pockets, despoil him of brown-paper parcels, hold on tight<\/strong><\/p>\n by his cravat, hug him round his neck, pommel his back,<\/strong><\/p>\n and kick his legs in irrepressible affection! The shouts of<\/strong><\/p>\n wonder and delight with which the development of every<\/strong><\/p>\n package was received! The terrible announcement that the<\/strong><\/p>\n baby had been taken in the act of putting a doll’s frying-pan<\/strong><\/p>\n into his mouth, and was more than suspected of having<\/strong><\/p>\n swallowed a fictitious turkey, glued on a wooden platter!<\/strong><\/p>\n The immense relief of finding this a false alarm! The joy,<\/strong><\/p>\n and gratitude, and ecstasy! They are all indescribable alike.<\/strong><\/p>\n It is enough that by degrees the children and their emotions<\/strong><\/p>\n got out of the parlour, and by one stair at a time, up to the<\/strong><\/p>\n top of the house; where they went to bed, and so subsided.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n And now Scrooge looked on more attentively than ever,<\/strong><\/p>\n when the master of the house, having his daughter leaning<\/strong><\/p>\n fondly on him, sat down with her and her mother at his<\/strong><\/p>\n own fireside; and when he thought that such another<\/strong><\/p>\n creature, quite as graceful and as full of promise, might<\/strong><\/p>\n have called him father, and been a spring-time in the<\/strong><\/p>\n haggard winter of his life, his sight grew very dim indeed.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n “Belle,” said the husband, turning to his wife with a<\/strong><\/p>\n smile, “I saw an old friend of yours this afternoon.”<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n “Who was it?”<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n “Guess!”<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n “How can I? Tut, don’t I know?” she added in the<\/strong><\/p>\n same breath, laughing as he laughed. “Mr. Scrooge.”<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n “Mr. Scrooge it was. I passed his office window; and as<\/strong><\/p>\n it was not shut up, and he had a candle inside, I could<\/strong><\/p>\n scarcely help seeing him. His partner lies upon the point<\/strong><\/p>\n of death, I hear; and there he sat alone. Quite alone in<\/strong><\/p>\n the world, I do believe.”<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n “Spirit!” said Scrooge in a broken voice, “remove me<\/strong><\/p>\n from this place.”<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n “I told you these were shadows of the things that have<\/strong><\/p>\n been,” said the Ghost. “That they are what they are, do<\/strong><\/p>\n not blame me!”<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n “Remove me!” Scrooge exclaimed, “I cannot bear it!”<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n He turned upon the Ghost, and seeing that it looked upon<\/strong><\/p>\n him with a face, in which in some strange way there were<\/strong><\/p>\n fragments of all the faces it had shown him, wrestled with it.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n “Leave me! Take me back. Haunt me no longer!”<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n In the struggle, if that can be called a struggle in which<\/strong><\/p>\n the Ghost with no visible resistance on its own part was<\/strong><\/p>\n undisturbed by any effort of its adversary, Scrooge observed<\/strong><\/p>\n that its light was burning high and bright; and dimly<\/strong><\/p>\n connecting that with its influence over him, he seized the<\/strong><\/p>\n extinguisher-cap, and by a sudden action pressed it down<\/strong><\/p>\n upon its head.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n The Spirit dropped beneath it, so that the extinguisher<\/strong><\/p>\n covered its whole form; but though Scrooge pressed it down<\/strong><\/p>\n with all his force, he could not hide the light: which streamed<\/strong><\/p>\n from under it, in an unbroken flood upon the ground.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n He was conscious of being exhausted, and overcome by an<\/strong><\/p>\n irresistible drowsiness; and, further, of being in his own<\/strong><\/p>\n bedroom.\u00a0 He gave the cap a parting squeeze, in which his hand<\/strong><\/p>\n relaxed; and had barely time to reel to bed, before he sank<\/strong><\/p>\n into a heavy sleep.<\/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 12) “Spirit!” said Scrooge, “show me<\/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-17033","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