title: a-christmas-carol.txt.
 hand already on the
dining-room lock. 'I'll go in here, my dear.'

He turned it gently, and sidled his face in round the door. They were
looking at the table (which was spread out in great array); for these
young housekeepers are always nervous on such points, and like to see
that everything is right.

'Fred!' said Scrooge.

Dear heart alive, how his niece by marriage started! Scrooge had
forgotten, for the moment, about her sitting in the corner with the
footstool, or he wouldn't have done it on any account.

'Why, bless my soul!' cried Fred, 'who's that?'

[Illustration: _"It's I, your uncle Scrooge. I have come to dinner. Will
you let me in, Fred?"_]

'It's I. Your uncle Scrooge. I have come to dinner. Will you let me in,
Fred?'

Let him in! It is a mercy he didn't shake his arm off. He was at home in
five minutes. Nothing could be heartier. His niece looked just the same.
So did Topper when _he_ came. So did the plump sister when _she_ came.
So did every one when _they_ came. Wonderful party, wonderful games,
wonderful unanimity, won-der-ful happiness!

But he was early at the office next morning. Oh, he was early there! If
he could only be there first, and catch Bob Cratchit coming late! That
was the thing he had set his heart upon.

And he did it; yes, he did! The clock struck nine. No Bob. A quarter
past. No Bob. He was full eighteen minutes and a half behind his time.
Scrooge sat with his door wide open, that he might see him come into the
tank.

His hat was off before he opened the door; his comforter too. He was on
his stool in a jiffy, driving away with his pen, as if he were trying to
overtake nine o'clock.

'Hallo!' growled Scrooge in his accustomed voice as near as he could
feign it. 'What do you mean by coming here at this time of day?'

'I am very sorry, sir,' said Bob. 'I _am_ behind my time.'

'You are!' repeated Scrooge. 'Yes, I think you are. Step this way, sir,
if you please.'

'It's only once a year, sir,' pleaded Bob, appearing from the tank. 'It
shall not be repeated. I was making rather merry yesterday, sir.'

'Now, I'll tell you what, my friend,' said Scrooge. 'I am not going to
stand this sort of thing any longer. 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!'

Bob trembled, and got a little nearer to the ruler. He had a momentary
idea of knocking Scrooge down with it, holding him, and calling to the
people in the court for help and a strait-waistcoat.

'A merry Christmas, Bob!' said Scrooge, with an earnestness that could
not be mistaken, as he clapped him on the back. 'A merrier Christmas,
Bob, my good fellow, than I have given you for many a year! I'll raise
your salary, and endeavour to assist your struggling family, and we will
discuss your affairs this very afternoon, over a Christmas bowl of
smoking bishop, Bob! Make up the fires and buy another coal-scuttle
before you dot another i, Bob Cratchit!'

[Illustration: _"Now, I'll tell you what, my friend," said Scrooge. "I
am not going to stand this sort of thing any longer."_]

Scrooge was better than his word. He did it all, and infinitely more;
and to Tiny Tim, who did NOT die, he was a second father. He became as
good a friend, as good a master, and as good a man as the good old
City knew, or any other good old city, town, or borough in the good old
world. Some people laughed to see the alteration in him, but he let them
laugh, and little heeded them; for he was wise enough to know that
nothing ever happened on this globe, for good, at which some people did
not have their fill of laughter in the outset; and knowing that such as
these would be blind anyway, he thought it quite as well that they
should wrinkle up their eyes in grins as have the malady in less
attractive forms. His own heart laughed, and that was quite enough for
him.

He had no further intercourse with Spirits, but lived upon the
Total-Abstinence Principle ever afterwards; and it was always said of
him that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed
the knowledge. May that be truly said of us, and all of us! And so, as
Tiny Tim observed, God bless Us, Every One!

[Illustration]

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|Transcriber's note: The Contents were added by the transcriber.|
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*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A CHRISTMAS CAROL ***


    

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