title: a-christmas-carol.txt.
 hands,
and splitting with a laugh. 'He shan't know who sends it. It's twice the
size of Tiny Tim. Joe Miller never made such a joke as sending it to
Bob's will be!'

The hand in which he wrote the address was not a steady one; but write
it he did, somehow, and went downstairs to open the street-door, ready
for the coming of the poulterer's man. As he stood there, waiting his
arrival, the knocker caught his eye.

'I shall love it as long as I live!' cried Scrooge, patting it with his
hand. 'I scarcely ever looked at it before. What an honest expression it
has in its face! It's a wonderful knocker!--Here's the turkey. Hallo!
Whoop! How are you! Merry Christmas!'

It _was_ a turkey! He never could have stood upon his legs, that bird.
He would have snapped 'em short off in a minute, like sticks of
sealing-wax.

'Why, it's impossible to carry that to Camden Town,' said Scrooge. 'You
must have a cab.'

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.

Shaving was not an easy task, for his hand continued to shake very much;
and shaving requires attention, even when you don't dance while you are
at it. But if he had cut the end of his nose off, he would have put a
piece of sticking-plaster over it, and been quite satisfied.

He dressed himself 'all in his best,' and at last got out into the
streets. The people were by this time pouring forth, as he had seen them
with the Ghost of Christmas Present; and, walking with his hands behind
him, Scrooge regarded every one with a delighted smile. He looked so
irresistibly pleasant, in a word, that three or four good-humoured
fellows said, 'Good-morning, sir! A merry Christmas to you!' And Scrooge
said often afterwards that, of all the blithe sounds he had ever heard,
those were the blithest in his ears.

He had not gone far when, coming on towards him, he beheld the portly
gentleman who had walked into his counting-house the day before, and
said, 'Scrooge and Marley's, I believe?' 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.

'My dear sir,' said Scrooge, quickening his pace, and taking the old
gentleman by both his hands, 'how do you do? I hope you succeeded
yesterday. It was very kind of you. A merry Christmas to you, sir!'

'Mr. Scrooge?'

'Yes,' said Scrooge. 'That is my name, and I fear it may not be pleasant
to you. Allow me to ask your pardon. And will you have the goodness----'
Here Scrooge whispered in his ear.

'Lord bless me!' cried the gentleman, as if his breath were taken away.
'My dear Mr. Scrooge, are you serious?'

'If you please,' said Scrooge. 'Not a farthing less. A great many
back-payments are included in it, I assure you. Will you do me that
favour?'

'My dear sir,' said the other, shaking hands with him, 'I don't know
what to say to such munifi----'

'Don't say anything, please,' retorted Scrooge. 'Come and see me. Will
you come and see me?'

'I will!' cried the old gentleman. And it was clear he meant to do it.

'Thankee,' said Scrooge. 'I am much obliged to you. I thank you fifty
times. Bless you!'

He went to church, and walked about the streets, and watched the people
hurrying to and fro, and patted the children on the head, and questioned
beggars, and looked down into the kitchens of houses, and up to the
windows; and found that everything could yield him pleasure. He had
never dreamed that any walk--that anything--could give him so much
happiness. In the afternoon he turned his steps towards his nephew's
house.

He passed the door a dozen times before he had the courage to go up and
knock. But he made a dash and did it.

'Is your master at home, my dear?' said Scrooge to the girl. 'Nice girl!
Very.'

'Yes, sir.'

'Where is he, my love?' said Scrooge.

'He's in the dining-room, sir, along with mistress. I'll show you
upstairs, if you please.'

'Thankee. He knows me,' said Scrooge, with his 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,