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. `Do go on, Fred,' said Scrooge's
niece, clapping her hands. `He never finishes what he begins to say. He is such
a ridiculous fellow.'
Scrooge's nephew revelled in another laugh, and as it was impossible to keep
the infection off; though the plump sister tried hard to do it with aromatic vinegar;
his example was unanimously followed. `I was only going to say,' said Scrooge's
nephew,' that the consequence of his taking a dislike to us, and not making merry
with us, is, as I think, that he loses some pleasant moments, which could do him
no harm. I am sure he loses pleasanter companions than he can find in his own thoughts,
either in his mouldy old office, or his dusty chambers. I mean to give him the same
chance every year, whether he likes it or not, for I pity him. He may rail at Christmas
till he dies, but he can't help thinking better of it -- I defy him -- if he finds
me going there, in good temper, year after year, and saying Uncle Scrooge, how are
you. If it only puts him in the vein to leave his poor clerk fifty pounds, that's
something; and I think I shook him yesterday.'
It was their turn to laugh now at the notion of his shaking Scrooge. But being
thoroughly good-natured, and not much caring what they laughed at, so that they
laughed at any rate, he encouraged them in their merriment, and passed the bottle
After tea. they had some music. For they were a musical family, and knew what
they were about, when they sung a Glee or Catch, I can assure you: especially 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 well upon
the harp; and played 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 boarding-school, as he had been reminded by the Ghost
of Christmas Past. When this strain of music sounded, all the things that Ghost
had 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 kindnesses
of life for his own happiness with his own hands, without resorting to the sexton's
spade that buried Jacob Marley.
But they didn't devote the whole evening to music. After a while they played
at forfeits; for it is good to be children sometimes, and never better than at Christmas,
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 Christmas 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
against the piano, smothering himself among the curtains, wherever she went, there
went he. He always knew where the plump sister was. He wouldn't catch anybody else.
If you had fallen up against him (as some of them did), on purpose, he would have
made a feint of endeavouring to seize you, which would have been an affront to your
understanding, and would instantly 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 rustlings, and her rapid
flutterings past him, he got her into a corner whence there was no escape; then
his conduct was the most execrable. For his pretending not to know her; his pretending
that it was necessary to touch her head-dress, 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 confidential together, behind the curtains.
Scrooge's niece was not one of the blind-man's buff party, but was made comfortable
with a large chair and a footstool, in a snug corner, where the Ghost and Scrooge
were close behind her. But she joined in the forfeits, and loved her love to admiration
with all the letters of the alphabet. Likewise at the game of How, When, and Where,
she was very great, and to the secret joy of Scrooge's nephew, beat her sisters
hollow: though they were sharp girls too, as could have told you. There might have
been twenty people there, young and old, but they all played, and so did Scrooge,
for, wholly forgetting the interest he had in what was going on, that his voice
made no sound in their ears, he sometimes came out with his guess quite loud, and
very often guessed quite right, too; for the sharpest needle, best Whitechapel,
warranted not to cut in the eye, was not sharper than Scrooge; blunt as he took
it in his head to be.
The Ghost was greatly pleased to find him in this mood, and looked upon him with
such favour, that he begged like a boy to be allowed to stay until the guests departed.
But this the Spirit said could not be done. `Here is a new game,' said Scrooge.
`One half hour, Spirit, only one.'
It was a Game called Yes and No, where Scrooge's nephew had to think of something,
and the rest must find out what; he only answering to their questions yes or no,
as the case was. The brisk fire of questioning to which he was exposed, elicited
from him that he was thinking of an animal, a live animal, rather a disagreeable
animal, a savage animal, an animal that growled and grunted sometimes, and talked
sometimes, and lived in London, and walked about the streets, and wasn't made a
show of, and wasn't led by anybody, and didn't live in a menagerie, and was 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,
falling 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 Scrooge.'
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;' inasmuch as an answer
in the negative 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 merriment,
I am sure,' said Fred,' and it would be ungrateful not to drink his health. Here
is a glass of mulled wine ready to our hand at the moment; and I say, "Uncle Scrooge."'
`Well. 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.'
Uncle Scrooge had imperceptibly become so gay and light of heart, that he would
have pledged the unconscious company in return, and thanked them in an inaudible
speech, if the Ghost had given him time. But the whole scene passed off in the breath
of the last word spoken by his nephew; and he and the Spirit were again upon their
Much they saw, and far they went, and many homes they visited, but always with
a happy end. The Spirit stood beside sick beds, and they were cheerful; on foreign
lands, and they were close at home; by struggling men, and they were patient in
their greater hope; by poverty, and it was rich. In almshouse, hospital, and jail,
in misery's every refuge, where vain man in his little brief authority had not made
fast the door and barred the Spirit out, he left his blessing, and taught Scrooge
It was a long night, if it were only a night; but Scrooge had his doubts of this,
because the Christmas Holidays appeared to be condensed into the space of time they
passed together. It was strange, too, that while Scrooge remained unaltered in his
outward form, the Ghost grew older, clearly older. Scrooge had observed this change,
but never spoke of it, until they left a children's Twelfth Night party, when, looking
at the Spirit as they stood together in an open place, he noticed that its hair
was grey. `Are spirits' lives so short.' asked Scrooge. `My life upon this globe,
is very brief,' replied the Ghost. `It ends to-night.' `To-night.' cried Scrooge.
`To-night at midnight. Hark. The time is drawing near.'
The chimes were ringing the three quarters past eleven at that moment. `Forgive
me if I am not justified in what I ask,' said Scrooge, looking intently at the Spirit's
robe,' but I see something strange, and not belonging to yourself, protruding from
your skirts. Is it a foot or a claw.' `It might be a claw, for the flesh there is
upon it,' was the Spirit's sorrowful reply. `Look here.'
From the foldings of its robe, it brought two children; wretched, abject, frightful,
hideous, miserable. They knelt down at its feet, and clung upon the outside of its
garment. `Oh, Man. look here. Look, look, down here.' exclaimed the Ghost.
They were a boy and a girl. Yellow, meagre, ragged, scowling, wolfish; but prostrate,
too, in their humility. Where graceful youth should have filled their features out,
and touched them with its freshest tints, a stale and shrivelled hand, like that
of age, had pinched, and twisted them, and pulled them into shreds. Where angels
might have sat enthroned, devils lurked, and glared out menacing. No change, no
degradation, no perversion of humanity, in any grade, through all the mysteries
of wonderful creation, has monsters half so horrible and dread.
Scrooge started back, appalled. Having them shown to him in this way, he tried
to say they were fine children, but the words choked themselves, rather than be
parties to a lie of such enormous magnitude. `Spirit. are they yours.' Scrooge could
say no more. `They are Man's,' said the Spirit, looking down upon them. `And they
cling to me, appealing from their fathers. This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want.
Beware them both, and all of their degree, but most of all beware this boy, for
on his brow I see that written which is Doom, unless the writing be erased. Deny
it.' cried the Spirit, stretching out its hand towards the city. `Slander those
who tell it ye. Admit it for your factious purposes, and make it worse. And abide
the end.' `Have they no refuge or resource.' cried Scrooge. `Are there no prisons.'
said the Spirit, turning on him for the last time with his own words. `Are there
no workhouses.' The bell struck twelve.
Scrooge looked about him for the Ghost, and saw it not. As the last stroke ceased
to vibrate, he remembered the prediction of old Jacob Marley, and lifting up his
eyes, beheld a solemn Phantom, draped and hooded, coming, like a mist along the
ground, towards him.
Stave 4: The Last of the Spirits
The Phantom slowly, gravely, silently approached. When it came, Scrooge bent
down upon his knee; for in the very air through which this Spirit moved it seemed
to scatter gloom and mystery.
It was shrouded in a deep black garment, which concealed its head, its face,
its form, and left nothing of it visible save one outstretched hand. But for this
it would have been difficult to detach its figure from the night, and separate it
from the darkness by which it was surrounded.
He felt that it was tall and stately when it came beside him, and that its mysterious
presence filled him with a solemn dread. He knew no more, for the Spirit neither
spoke nor moved. `I am in the presence of the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come.' said
The Spirit answered not, but pointed onward with its hand. `You are about to
show me shadows of the things that have not happened, but will happen in the time
before us,' Scrooge pursued. `Is that so, Spirit.'
The upper portion of the garment was contracted for an instant in its folds,
as if the Spirit had inclined its head. That was the only answer he received.
Although well used to ghostly company by this time, Scrooge feared the silent
shape so much that his legs trembled beneath him, and he found that he could hardly
stand when he prepared to follow it. The Spirit pauses a moment, as observing his
condition, and giving him time to recover.
But Scrooge was all the worse for this. It thrilled him with a vague uncertain
horror, to know that behind the dusky shroud, there were ghostly eyes intently fixed
upon him, while he, though he stretched his own to the utmost, could see nothing
but a spectral hand and one great heap of black. `Ghost of the Future.' he exclaimed,'
I fear you more than any spectre I have seen. But as I know your purpose is to do
me good, and as I hope to live to be another man from what I was, I am prepared
to bear you company, and do it with a thankful heart. Will you not speak to me.'
It gave him no reply. The hand was pointed straight before them. `Lead on.' said
Scrooge. `Lead on. The night is waning fast, and it is precious time to me, I know.
Lead on, Spirit.'
The Phantom moved away as it had come towards him. Scrooge followed in the shadow
of its dress, which bore him up, he thought, and carried him along.
They scarcely seemed to enter the city; for the city rather seemed to spring
up about them, and encompass them of its own act. But there they were, in the heart
of it; on Change, amongst the merchants; who hurried up and down, and chinked the
money in their pockets, and conversed in groups, and looked at their watches, and
trifled thoughtfully with their great gold seals; and so forth, as Scrooge had seen
The Spirit stopped beside one little knot of business men. Observing that the
hand was pointed to them, Scrooge advanced to listen to their talk. `No,' said a
great fat man with a monstrous chin,' I don't know much about it, either way. I
only know he's dead.' `When did he die.' inquired another. `Last night, I believe.'
`Why, what was the matter with him.' asked a third, taking a vast quantity of snuff
out of a very large snuff-box. `I thought he'd never die.' `God knows,' said the
first, with a yawn. `What has he done with his money.' asked a red-faced gentleman
with a pendulous excrescence on the end of his nose, that shook like the gills of
a turkey-cock. `I haven't heard,' said the man with the large chin, yawning again.
`Left it to his company, perhaps. He hasn't left it to me. That's all I know.'