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(wig, with a sharp clap of his hands,
''before a man can say Jack Robin son!" I In came a fiddler with a music book and went up to the lofty desk and made an orchestra of it nud tuned like fifty stomach aches. In came Mrs. Fezziwig, one vust substantial smile. In came the three Miss Fezziwigs, beaming and lovable. In came the six young followers whose hearts they broke. In came all the young men and women employed in the business. In came the housemaid with h r cousin, the baker. In came the cook ,Uth her brother's particular friend, the milk man. In came the boy from over the way. who was suspected of not having board enough from his master, trying to hide himself behind the girl from next door but one. who was proved to have hnd her ears pulled by her mis tress. 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 couples at once, hands half round and back ngrpn 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 couple starting off again as soon as they got there, all top couples at last and not a bottom one to help them. When tills result was brought about old Fezziwig, clap ping his hands to stop the dance, cried out, "Well done!" and the fiddler plunged his hot face into a pot of por ter especially provided for that pur pose. But. scorning rest upon his re appearance, he instantly began again, though there wore 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. I When the clock struck 11 tills do mestic ball broke up. Mr. and Mrs. Fezziwig took their stations, one on either side the door. and. shaking hands with every person individually as he or she went out. wished him or her a merry Christmas. When every body had retired but the two 'pren tices 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. Ills heart and soul were in the scene and with his former self. He corroborated everything, remembered everything, enjoyed everything and underwent the strangest agitation. "What is the matter?" asked the ghost.. "Nothing particular," said Scrooge. "Something, I think," the ghost in sisted. "No." said Scrooge: "no. I should like to be able to say a word or two to my clerk just now—that's all." 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 any one whom he could see, but lit produced . a immediate effect, for again Sci<.saw himself. He was older now, a man in the prime of life. His face had not the harsh and rigid lines of la!et years, but it had begun to wear i he signs of care and avarice. iThere 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. Ho was not alone, but sat by the side of a fair young girl in a mourning dress in whose eyes there were tears. - T fSp foa £ <7. "lets have the shutters up.** which sparkled in the light that shone cut of the G host of Christmas fast. "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 1 would have tried to do, i have no just cause to grieve." "What idol has displaced 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 eon .dernn with such severity as the pur ,-fluit of wealth." ■"You fear the world too much." she .-.answered gently. "All your other iiopes have merged into the hope of ■being beyond the chance of its sordid approach. I have seen your nobler as pirations fail off one by one until the master passion, gain, engrosses you. Have I not?" r ' "What then?" he retorted. "Even If 1 hkTe grown so much wiser, what athon ? I am not changed toward you." .She shook her head. I Am I?" ) "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. He was about to speak further; but, with her head turned from him, she resumed: 7 "Yon may—the memory of what Is past half makes me hope you wlll have pain to this. A very, very brief time and you will dismiss the racol lection of it gladly as an unprofitable dream from which it happened well that you awoke. May you be happy In the life you have chosen." She left him, and they pnrted. "Spirit." said Scrooge in a broken voice, "remove me from this place." He turned upon the ghost and. see ing that it looked upou 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 he 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, nnd. dimly connecting that with its infiuence over him, he seiz ed the extin guisher cap and by a sudden ac tion pressed it down upou its bead. The spirit drop ped beneath it, so that the extinguisher covered its whole form; but. though Scrooge press ed it down \vith all his force, he could not hide the light which streamed from under it in an unbroken flood upon the ground. lie was conscious of being exhausted and overcome by an irresistible drowsi ness 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 be fore he sank into a heavy sleep. IIK COULD NOT HIDE THE LIGHT. ; Chapter Three THE SECOND OF THE THREE SPIRITS. WAKING in the mid dle of a prodi giously tough snort and silting up in bed to get his thoughts together. Scrooge had no oc casion to be told that the bell was again upon the stroke of 1. He felt that he v as restored to con sciousness in the right nick of time for the especial purpose of holding it con fercnce with the second messenger dis patched to him through Jacob Marley's ! Intervention. But, finding that he turn i ed uncomfortably cold when he began to wonder which of his curtains this I new specter would draw back, he pm them every one aside with his own hands and, lying down again, cstab j Halted a sharp lookout all round the bed, for he wished to challenge the ! spirit on the moment of its appearance I and did not wish to he taken by sur ! prise and made nervous. I Gentlemen of the free and easy son ! who plume themselves on being ac i qualified with a move or two and be mg usually equal to the time of day ox press 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 ns hardily as this 1 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 ami a rhiuoc eros would have astonished him verj much. Now, being prepared for almost any thing. he was not by any means pre pared for nothing, and consequently when the boll struck 1 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 uothiug came. All this time hr lay upon his bed. the very core nnd center of a blaze of ruddy light which streamed upon it wh.l. the clock pro claimed the hour and which, belu. only light, was more alarming than a dozen ghosts, as he was powerless to make out what it meant or would be at, nnd was sometimes apprehensive that he might be at that very moment an interesting case of spontaneous combustion without having the cou solution of knowing it. At last, how ever, he began to think, as you or 1 would have thought at first, for it is always the person not in the predica ment who knows what ought to have been done In it and would unques tionably have done it too. At last. I say. ho 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 posses sion of his mind, he got up softly and shuflled 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. Tt was his own room—there was no doubt about that—but it had un dergone a surprising transformation. The walls and ceiling were so hung with living green that it looked a per fect 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 petrifac tion of a hearth had never known in Scrooge's time or Mariey's or for many and many a winter season gone. Heap ed up upon the floor to form a kind of throne were turkeys, geese, game, poultry, brawn, great joints of meat, sucking pigs, long wreaths of sausages, mince pies, plum puddings, barrels of oysters, redltot chestnuts, cherry cheek ed apples, juicy oranges, luscious pears, immense Twelfth cakes and seething bowls of punch that made the chamber dim with m r _y "COME IN AND KNOW ME IIETTER, MAN'!" t b e i r delicious steam. In easy state upon this couch there sat a jolly giant, glori ous to see. who bore a glowing torch, in shape not unlike Plen ty's horn, and held it up. high up. to shed its light on Scrooge as he came peep ing round the door. "Come In!" ex c 1 a i m e d the ghost. "Come in and know me better, man!" Scrooge entered timidly and hung his bead before this spirit. i am tlie Ghost of Christmas Pres ent," said the spirit. "Look upon me!" Scrooge reverently did so. It was clothed in one simple deep green robe or mantle bordered with white fur. This garment bung so loosely on the figure that its capacious breast was hare, 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 de meanor and its Joyful air. Girded round Its middle was an antique scab bard. but no sword was In it. and the ancient sheath was eaten up with rust. 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 yon have aught to teach me, let me profit by it." "Touch my robe!" Scrooge did as he was told and held It fast. Holly, mistletoe, red berries, ivy, tur keys. geese, game, poultry, brawn, meat, pigs, sausages, oysters, pies, pud dings. fruit and punch, all vanished in stantly. So did the room, the fire, the ruddy glow, the hour of night, and they stood in the city streets on Chrls mas morning, where (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. It was a remarkable quality of the ghost (which Scrooge had observed at the baker's) that, notwithstanding 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 clerk, for there he wont and took Scrooge with him, holding to his robe. Then up rose Mrs. Cratchit, wife of the clerk, dressed out but poorly in a twice turned gown, but brave in rib bons 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 ills monstrous shirt collar (Bob's pri vate property, conferred upou 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 Cratehits. boy nnd 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 Cratehits danced about the ta ble and exalted Master Peter Cratchit to the skies, while he (not proud, al though 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. "Here's Martha, mother!" cried the two young Cratehits. "Hurrah! There's 6uch 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 a are come." said Mrs. Cratchit. "Sit ye i down before the tire, ray dear, and i have a warm. Lord bless ye!" | "No. no! There's father coming!" cried the two young Cratehits. who were everywhere at once. "Hide. Mar tha. hide!' So Martha hid herself, and in came little Bob. the father, with at least three feet of comforter, exclusive <>r the fringe, hanging down before him and his threadbare clothe» darned up and brushed to look seasonable and Tiny Tim upon his shoulder. Alas f,.~ 'VI ,r "~ - • cried for Tiny Tim. He bore a little crutch and had his limbs supported by an iron frame. "Why. where's our Martha?' Bol) Cratchit. looking round. "Not coming." said Mrs. Cratchit. "Not coming!" said Bob; with a sud den declension in his high spirit, for he hnd been Tim's blood horse all the way from church nnd had come home rampant. "Not coming upon Cliÿst mas day!" Martha didn't like to see him di-n pointed, if it were only In joke, so sln> came out prematurely from behind the closet door and ran into Ids arms, while the two young Cratehits hustled Tiny Tim and bore him off into the washhouse that he might hear the pudding singing in the copper. "And how did little Tim behave?" asked Mrs. Cratchit when she had rallied Bob on Ills 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 nnd 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 re member 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 safd that Tiny Tim was grow ing 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 beside 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 Mas ter Peter and the two ubiquitous young Cratehits went to fetch the goose, with which they soon returned in high procession. Such a bustle ensued that 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. Cratch it made the gravy (ready before hand in a little saucepan) hissing hot. Master Toter mashed the potatoes with incredible vigor. Miss Belinda sweetened up the apple sauce, Martha dusted the hot plates. Bob took Tiny Tim beside him in a tiny corner at the table, and the two young Cratehits set chairs for everybody, not forget ting themselves, and, mounting guard upon t Heir posts, crammed spoons into their mouths lest they should shriek for goose before their turn came to be helped. 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 tlie breast, but when she did and when the long expected gush of stuff ing issued forth one murmur of de light arose all rourfd the hoard, and even Tiny Tim, excited by the two young Cratehits, beat on the table with the handle of his knife and fee bly cried "Hurrah!" There never was such a goose. Bob said he didn't believe there ever was such a goose cooked. Its tenderness aiul flavor, size and cheapness were the themes of universal admiration. Eked out by the apple sauce and mashed potatoes, it was a sufficient dinner for the whole family, indeed, as Mrs. Cratchit said, with great de light, surveying one small atom of a bone upon the dish, they hadn't eaten it all at last. Yet every one had had enough, and the youngest Cratehits in particular were steeped in sage and onion to the eyebrows. 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 In turning out! Suppose somebody should have got over the wall of the back yard and stolen it while they were merry with the goose, a suppo sition at which the two young Cratch its became livid. AH sorts of horrors were supposed. Hello! A great deal of steam. The pudding was out of the copper. A smell like a 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 In half a minute Mrs. Cratchit enter ed, flushed, but smiling proudly, with the pudding, like a speckled cannon ball, so hard and firm, blazing In half a quartern of Ignited brandy and be dight with Christmas holly stuck into the top. "Oh, 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. Every body 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, | . 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 consider | ed perfect, apples and oranges were j put upon the table and a shovelful of j chestnuts on the fire. Then all the ! Cratchit family drew round the hearth j in what Bob Cratchit called a circle, j meaning half a one. and at Bob Cratch ; It'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 gob | dears! God bless us lets would have done, and Bob served It out with beaming looks, while the chestnuts on the fire sputtered and crackled noisily. Then Bob proposed: "A merry Christmas to us all, my Which nil the family re-rchoed. "God bless 'every one!" said Tiny Tim. the Inst 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 be loved the child and wished to keep him by his side and dreaded that he might be taken from him. "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 he Christmas day. I nnu 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 fel low." 'My dear," was Bob's mild answer. "Christmas day." "I'll drink his health for your sake and the day's." said Mrs. Cratchit. "not for his. Long life to him. A merry Christmas and a happy New Year. He'll be very merry nnd very happy. I have no doubt." The children drank the toast after her. It was the first of their proceed ings which had no heartiness in it. Tiny Tim drank it last of all. but he didn't care twopenee for it. Scrooge LVI "GOD IIUESS EVERY ONE!" SAID TINY TIM. was the ogre of the family. The men tion of his name cast a dark shadow on the party which was not dispelled for full five minutes. And now, without a word of warn ing from the ghost, they stood upon a bleak and desert moor, where mon strous masses of rude stone were cast about as though it were the burial place of giants, and water spread it self wheresoever it listed—or it would have done so but for the frost that held it prisoner—and nothing grew but moss and furze and coarse, rank grass. Down iu 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, low er, lower yet, was lost in the thick gloom of darkest night. It was a great surprise to Scrooge while listening to the moaniug of the wind and thinking what a solemn thing it was to move on through tlie lonely darkness over an unknown abyss whose depths were secrets as profound as death. It was a great surprise to Scrooge while thus engag ed to hear a hearty laugh. It was a much greater surprise to Scrooge to recognize it as his own nephew's and to find himself in a bright, dry, gleam ing room, with the spirit standing smiling by his side and looking at that same nephew with approving affabil ity. "He said that Christmas was a hum bug, ns I live!" cried Scrooge's neph ew. "He believed it too!" "More shame for him, Fred!" said Scrooge's niece indignantly. Bless those women. They never do any thing by halves. They are always In earnest She was very pretty, exceedingly pretty, with a dimpled, surprised look ing, capital face, a ripe little mouth that seemed made to be kissed—as no doubt it was—all kinds of good .. j 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. Al together she was what you would have called provoking, you know, but satis factory, too—oil, perfectly satisfactory! "Efe'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 have no patience with him," ob served Scrooge's niece. Scrooge's niece's sisters and all the other ladles expressed the same opinion. "Oh, I have!" said Scrooge's neph ew. "I am sorry for hlm. I couldn't be angry with him if I tried. Who suffers by his ill whims? Hirns, fff always. Here he takes It Into his head to dislike us, and he won't come and dine with us. What's the conse quence? He doesn't lose much of a dinner." "Indeed, I think he loses a very good dinner," interrupted Scrooge's niece. Everybody 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 round the fire by lamplight. "Well, I am very glad to hear It." said Scrooge's nephew, "because I haven't any great faith iu these young housekeepers. What do you say* Top per?" 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, whereat Scrooge's niece's sister—the plump one with the lace tucker, not the one with the roses—blushed. After tea they had some music, for they were a musical family and knew what they were about when they sang a glee or catch. I can assure yon. espe cially Topper, who could growl away in the bass like a good one and never swell the large veins in his forehead or get red In the face over it. Scrooge's niece played welt upon the harp and. among other tunes, a simple little air (a mere nothing—you might learn to whistle it in two minutes) which had been familiar to the child who fetched Scrooge from the board ing school, as he had been reminded by the Ghost of Christmas Past. When tile strain of music sounded all the things that ghost hnd 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 kind nesses of life for his own happiness witli ills own hands without resorting to the sexton's spade that buried Ja cob Mnrley. But they didn't devote the whole evening to music; After awhile they played at forfeits, for it is good to be children sometimes and never better than at Chrisr.mas. 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 a done thing between him and Scrooge's nephew and that the Ghost of Christ mas Present knew it. The way he went after that 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 up against the piano, smothering himself among the cur tains. Wherever she went, there went he. He always knew where the plump sister was. He wouldn't catch any body else. If you had fallen up against him. as some of them did, and stood there he would have made a feint of endeavoring to seize you. which would have been an affront to your understanding, and would instant ly have sidled 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 rus tlings and her rapid flutteriugs past him, he got her into a corner whence there was no escape—then his con duct was the most execrable, for his pretending not to know her, his pre tending 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 con fidential together behind the curtains. Then they played a game called yes and no, where Scrooge's nephew had to think of something and the rest must find out what, he only answer ing to their questions yes or no, as the ease was. The brisk fire of ques tioning to which he was exposed elicit ed from him that he was thinking of an animal, a live animal, rather a disg agreeable animal, a savage animal, an animal that growled and grunted sometimes and talked sometimes, and lived in Loudon, and walked about the streets, and wasn't made a sho\£ of, and wasn't led by anybody, and didn't live in a menagerie, and yyaa never killed in a market, and was not a horse, or an ass, or a cow, or a bull, or a tiger, or a dog, or a pig, or a cat, or a bear. At 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, fall ing into a similar state, cried out: I have found it out! I know what it is, Fred! I know what it is!" "What is it?" cried Fred. "It's your Uncle Scro-o-o-o-oge!" Which it certainly was. Admiration was the universal sentiment, though some objected that the reply to "Is it a bear?" ought to have been "Yes," in asmuch as an answer in the negativa was sufficient to have diverted their thoughts from Mr. Scrooge, supposing they had ever had any tendency that way. "He has given us plenty of merri ment, I am sure," said Fred, "and it would be un grateful not to drink his health. Here Is a glass of mulled wine ready to our hand at the moment, and I say 'Uncle Scrooge!' " "WeU, 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!" "WELL, CNCLE SCROOGE!"