Christmas Carol Stave 5

Best and happiest of all, the Time before him was his own, to make amends in!

Scrooge repeated, as he scrambled out of bed.

Scrooge repeated, as he scrambled out of bed.

“The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me.

He was so fluttered and so glowing with his good intentions, that his broken voice would scarcely answer to his call.

He was so fluttered and so glowing with his good intentions, that his broken voice would scarcely answer to his call.

His hands were busy with his garments all this time; turning them inside out, putting them on upside down, tearing them, mislaying them, making them parties to every kind of extravagance.

I am as giddy as a drunken man.

There’s the corner where the Ghost of Christmas Present, sat!

Really, for a man who had been out of practice for so many years, it was a splendid laugh, a most illustrious laugh.

Oh, glorious, glorious!

No fog, no mist; clear, bright, jovial, stirring, cold; cold, piping for the blood to dance to; Golden sunlight; Heavenly sky; sweet fresh air; merry bells.

“Walk-er!” exclaimed the boy.

He must have had a steady hand at a trigger who could have got a shot off half so fast.

“I’ll send it to Bob Cratchit’s!” whispered Scrooge, rubbing his hands, and splitting with a laugh.

It’s a wonderful knocker!—Here’s the Turkey!

The chuckle with which he said this, and the chuckle with which he paid for the Turkey, and the chuckle with which he paid for the cab, and the chuckle with which he recompensed the boy, were only to be exceeded by the chuckle with which he sat down breathless in his chair again, and chuckled till he cried.

He looked so irresistibly pleasant, in a word, that three or four good-humoured fellows said, “Good morning, sir!

And Scrooge said often afterwards, that of all the blithe sounds he had ever heard, those were the blithest in his ears.

It sent a pang across his heart to think how this old gentleman would look upon him when they met; but he knew what path lay straight before him, and he took it.

Allow me to ask your pardon.

“Don’t say anything, please,” retorted Scrooge.

He had never dreamed that any walk—that anything—could give him so much happiness.

It is a mercy he didn’t shake his arm off.

Nothing could be heartier.

“It’s only once a year, sir,” pleaded Bob, appearing from the Tank.

And therefore,” he continued, leaping from his stool, and giving Bob such a dig in the waistcoat that he staggered back into the Tank again; “and therefore I am about to raise your salary!”

And therefore,” he continued, leaping from his stool, and giving Bob such a dig in the waistcoat that he staggered back into the Tank again; “and therefore I am about to raise your salary!”