The ghost of christmas present . . .
Thank you for playing the ghost Cykes! ^^
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`I am the Ghost of Christmas Present,' said the Spirit. `Look upon me.'
Miss Scrooge reverently did so. It was clothed in one simple green robe, or mantle, bordered with 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.
`You have never seen the like of me before.' exclaimed the Spirit.
`Never,' miss 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 miss 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 miss Scrooge.
The Ghost of Christmas Present rose.
`Spirit,' said miss Scrooge submissively,' conduct me where you will. I went forth last night on compulsion, and I learnt a lesson which is working now. Tonight, if you have aught to teach me, let me profit by it.'
`Touch my robe.'
Miss Scrooge did as she was told, and held it fast.
There they went through the town and the park. They seemed to be going in the direction of where, to quote miss Scrooge, the 'surplus population' lived.
Invisible, as they had been before. It was a remarkable quality of the Ghost that notwithstanding his large 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 miss Scrooge's clerk's; for there he went, and took miss 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. 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.
'And how did little Tim behave?' asked Mrs Cratchit.
`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 active little crutch 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 in a jug with gin and lemons, and stirred it round and round and put it on the hob to simmer; Master Peter, and the two ubiquitous young Cratchits went to fetch the goose, with which they soon returned in high procession.
Bob Cratchit proposed: `A Merry Christmas to us all, my dears. God bless us.'
Which all the family re-echoed.
`God bless us every one.' 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, because he loved the child very much, and wished to keep him by his side, and dreaded that he might be taken from him.
`Spirit,' said miss Scrooge, with an interest she 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 miss 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.'
Miss Scrooge hung her head to hear her own words quoted by the Spirit, and was overcome with penitence and grief. `Woman,' said the Ghost, `forbear that wicked cant until you have discovered what the surplus is, and where it is. Will you decide who shall live, who 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. to hear the Insect on the leaf pronouncing on the too much life among his hungry brothers in the dust.'
Miss Scrooge bent before the Ghost's rebuke, and trembling cast her eyes upon the ground. But she raised them speedily, on hearing her own name.
`Miss Scrooge.' said Bob; `I'll give you miss Scrooge, the founder of the Feast.'
`The Founder of the Feast indeed.' cried Mrs Cratchit, reddening. `I wish I had her here. I'd give her a piece of my mind to feast upon, and I hope she'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 woman as Miss Scrooge. You know she is, Robert. Nobody knows it better than you do, poor fellow.'
`My dear,' was Bob's mild answer, `Christmas Day.'
`I'll drink her health for your sake and the Day's,' said Mrs Cratchit, `not for hers. Long life to her. A merry Christmas and a happy new year. She'll be very merry and very happy, I have no doubt.'
The children drank the toast after her. It was the first of their proceedings which had no heartiness. Tiny Tim drank it last of all, but he didn't care twopence for it. Miss Scrooge was the Ogre of the family. The mention of her name cast a dark shadow on the party, which was not dispelled for full five minutes.
The ghost of christmas present . . .
Thank you for playing the ghost Cykes! ^^
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`I am the Ghost of Christmas Present,' said the Spirit. `Look upon me.'
Miss Scrooge reverently did so. It was clothed in one simple green robe, or mantle, bordered with 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.
`You have never seen the like of me before.' exclaimed the Spirit.
`Never,' miss 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 miss 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 miss Scrooge.
The Ghost of Christmas Present rose.
`Spirit,' said miss Scrooge submissively,' conduct me where you will. I went forth last night on compulsion, and I learnt a lesson which is working now. Tonight, if you have aught to teach me, let me profit by it.'
`Touch my robe.'
Miss Scrooge did as she was told, and held it fast.
There they went through the town and the park. They seemed to be going in the direction of where, to quote miss Scrooge, the 'surplus population' lived.
Invisible, as they had been before. It was a remarkable quality of the Ghost that notwithstanding his large 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 miss Scrooge's clerk's; for there he went, and took miss 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. 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.
'And how did little Tim behave?' asked Mrs Cratchit.
`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 active little crutch 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 in a jug with gin and lemons, and stirred it round and round and put it on the hob to simmer; Master Peter, and the two ubiquitous young Cratchits went to fetch the goose, with which they soon returned in high procession.
Bob Cratchit proposed: `A Merry Christmas to us all, my dears. God bless us.'
Which all the family re-echoed.
`God bless us every one.' 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, because he loved the child very much, and wished to keep him by his side, and dreaded that he might be taken from him.
`Spirit,' said miss Scrooge, with an interest she 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 miss 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.'
Miss Scrooge hung her head to hear her own words quoted by the Spirit, and was overcome with penitence and grief. `Woman,' said the Ghost, `forbear that wicked cant until you have discovered what the surplus is, and where it is. Will you decide who shall live, who 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. to hear the Insect on the leaf pronouncing on the too much life among his hungry brothers in the dust.'
Miss Scrooge bent before the Ghost's rebuke, and trembling cast her eyes upon the ground. But she raised them speedily, on hearing her own name.
`Miss Scrooge.' said Bob; `I'll give you miss Scrooge, the founder of the Feast.'
`The Founder of the Feast indeed.' cried Mrs Cratchit, reddening. `I wish I had her here. I'd give her a piece of my mind to feast upon, and I hope she'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 woman as Miss Scrooge. You know she is, Robert. Nobody knows it better than you do, poor fellow.'
`My dear,' was Bob's mild answer, `Christmas Day.'
`I'll drink her health for your sake and the Day's,' said Mrs Cratchit, `not for hers. Long life to her. A merry Christmas and a happy new year. She'll be very merry and very happy, I have no doubt.'
The children drank the toast after her. It was the first of their proceedings which had no heartiness. Tiny Tim drank it last of all, but he didn't care twopence for it. Miss Scrooge was the Ogre of the family. The mention of her name cast a dark shadow on the party, which was not dispelled for full five minutes.