solution of these riddles easy.59--------------------------------------- 60A CHRISTMAS CAROLHe looked about in that very place for his own image; but another manstood in his accustomed corner, and though the clock pointed to his usualtime of day for being there, he saw no likeness of himself among themultitudes that poured in through the Porch. It gave him little surprise,however; for he had been revolving in his mind a change of life, andthought and hoped he saw his new-born resolutions carried out in this.Quiet and dark, beside him stood the Phantom, with its outstretchedhand. When he roused himself from his thoughtful quest, he fancied fromthe turn of the hand, and its situation in reference to himself, that theUnseen Eyes were looking at him keenly. It made him shudder, and feelvery cold.They left the busy scene, and went into an obscure part of the town,where Scrooge had never penetrated before, although he recognised itssituation, and its bad repute. The ways were foul and narrow; the shopsand houses wretched; the people half-naked, drunken, slipshod, ugly.Alleys and archways, like so many cesspools, disgorged their offences ofsmell, and dirt, and life, upon the straggling streets; and the whole quarterreeked with crime, with filth, and misery.Far in this den of infamous resort, there was a low-browed, beetlingshop, below a pent-house roof, where iron, old rags, bottles, bones, andgreasy offal, were bought. Upon the floor within, were piled up heaps ofrusty keys, nails, chains, hinges, files, scales, weights, and refuse iron ofall kinds. Secrets that few would like to scrutinise were bred and hidden inmountains of unseemly rags, masses of corrupted fat, and sepulchres ofbones. Sitting in among the wares he dealt in, by a charcoal stove, made ofold bricks, was a grey-haired rascal, nearly seventy years of age; who hadscreened himself from the cold air without, by a frousy curtaining ofmiscellaneous tatters, hung upon a line; and smoked his pipe in all theluxury of calm retirement.Scrooge and the Phantom came into the presence of this man, just as awoman with a heavy bundle slunk into the shop. But she had scarcelyentered, when another woman, similarly laden, came in too; and she wasclosely followed by a man in faded black, who was no less startled by thesight of them, than they had been upon the recognition of each other. After60--------------------------------------- 61A CHRISTMAS CAROLa short period of blank astonishment, in which the old man with the pipehad joined them, they all three burst into a laugh.`Let the charwoman alone to be the first.' cried she who had enteredfirst. `Let the laundress alone to be the second; and let the undertaker'sman alone to be the third. Look here, old Joe, here's a chance. If wehaven't all three met here without meaning it.'`You couldn't have met in a better place,' said old Joe, removing hispipe from his mouth. `Come into the parlour. You were made free of itlong ago, you know; and the other two an't strangers. Stop till I shut thedoor of the shop. Ah. How it skreeks. There an't such a rusty bit of metalin the place as its own hinges, I believe; and I'm sure there's no such oldbones here, as mine. Ha, ha. We're all suitable to our calling, we're wellmatched. Come into the parlour. Come into the parlour.'The parlour was the space behind the screen of rags. The old manraked the fire together with an old stair-rod, and having trimmed hissmoky lamp (for it was night), with the stem of his pipe, put it in hismouth again.While he did this, the woman who had already spoken threw herbundle on the floor, and sat down in a flaunting manner on a stool;crossing her elbows on her knees, and looking with a bold defiance at theother two.`What odds then. What odds, Mrs Dilber.' said the woman. `Everyperson has a right to take care of themselves. He always did.'`That's true, indeed.' said the laundress. `No man more so.'`Why then, don't stand staring as if you was afraid, woman; who's thewiser. We're not going to pick holes in each other's coats, I suppose.'`No, indeed.' said Mrs Dilber and the man together. `We should hopenot.'`Very well, then.' cried the woman. `That's enough. Who's the worsefor the loss of a few things like these. Not a dead man, I suppose.'`No, indeed,' said Mrs Dilber, laughing.`If he wanted to keep them after he was dead, a wicked old screw,'pursued the woman,' why wasn't he natural in his lifetime. If he had been,he'd have had somebody to look after him when he was struck with Death,61--------------------------------------- 62A CHRISTMAS CAROLinstead of lying gasping out his last there, alone by himself.'`It's the truest word that ever was spoke,' said Mrs Dilber. `It's ajudgment on him.'`I wish it was a little heavier judgment,' replied the woman;' and itshould have been, you may depend upon it, if I could have laid my handson anything else. Open that bundle, old Joe, and let me know the value ofit. Speak out plain. I'm not afraid to be the first, nor afraid for them tosee it. We know pretty well that we were helping ourselves, before we methere, I believe. It's no sin. Open the bundle, Joe.'But the gallantry of her friends would not allow of this; and the man infaded black, mounting the breach first, produced his plunder. It was notextensive. A seal or two, a pencil-case, a pair of sleeve-buttons, and abrooch of no great value, were all. They were severally examined andappraised by old Joe, who chalked the sums he was disposed to give foreach, upon the wall, and added them up into a total when he found therewas nothing more to come.`That's your account,' said Joe,' and I wouldn't give another sixpence,if I was to be boiled for not doing it. Who's next.'Mrs Dilber was next. Sheets and towels, a little wearing apparel, twoold-fashioned silver teaspoons, a pair of sugar-tongs, and a few boots. Heraccount was stated on the wall in the same manner.`I always give too much to ladies. It's a weakness of mine, and that'sthe way I ruin myself,' said old Joe. `That's your account. If you asked mefor another penny, and made it an open question, I'd repent of being soliberal and knock off half-a-crown.'`And now undo my bundle, Joe,' said the first woman.Joe went down on his knees for the greater convenience of opening it,and having unfastened a great many knots, dragged out a large and heavyroll of some dark stuff.`What do you call this.' said Joe. `Bed-curtains.'`Ah.' returned the woman, laughing and leaning forward on hercrossed arms. `Bed-curtains.'`You don't mean to say you took them down, rings and all, with himlying there.' said Joe.62--------------------------------------- 63A CHRISTMAS CAROL`Yes I do,' replied the woman. `Why not.'`You were born to make your fortune,' said Joe,' and you'll certainly doit.'`I certainly shan't hold my hand, when I can get anything in it byreaching it out, for the sake of such a man as he was, I promise you, Joe,'returned the woman coolly. `Don't drop that oil upon the blankets, now.'`His blankets.' asked Joe.`Whose else's do you think.' replied the woman. `He isn't likely to takecold without them, I dare say.'`I hope he didn't die of any thing catching. Eh.' said old Joe, stoppingin his work, and looking up.`Don't you be afraid of that,' returned the woman. `I an't so fond of hiscompany that I'd loiter about him for such things, if he did. Ah. you maylook through that shirt till your eyes ache; but you won't find a hole in it,nor a threadbare place. It's the best he had, and a fine one too. They'd havewasted it, if it hadn't been for me.'`What do you call wasting of it.' asked old Joe.`Putting it on him to be buried in, to be sure,' replied the woman with alaugh. `Somebody was fool enough to do it, but I took it off again. Ifcalico an't good enough for such a purpose, it isn't good enough foranything. It's quite as becoming to the body. He can't look uglier than hedid in that one.'Scrooge listened to this dialogue in horror. As they sat grouped abouttheir spoil, in the scanty light afforded by the old man's lamp, he viewedthem with a detestation and disgust, which could hardly have been greater,though they demons, marketing the corpse itself.`Ha, ha.' laughed the same woman, when old Joe, producing a flannelbag with money in it, told out their several gains upon the ground. `This isthe end of it, you see. He frightened every one away from him when hewas alive, to profit us when he was dead. Ha, ha, ha.'`Spirit.' said Scrooge, shuddering from head to foot. `I see, I see. Thecase of this unhappy man might be my own. My life tends that way, now.Merciful Heaven, what is this.'He recoiled in terror, for the scene had changed, and now he almost63--------------------------------------- 64A CHRISTMAS CAROLtouched a bed: a bare, uncurtained bed: on which, beneath a ragged sheet,there lay a something covered up, which, though it was dumb, announceditself in awful language.The room was very dark, too dark to be observed with any accuracy,though Scrooge glanced round it in obedience to a secret impulse, anxiousto know what kind of room it was. A pale light, rising in the outer air, fellstraight upon the bed; and on it, plundered and bereft, unwatched, unwept,uncared for, was the body of this man.Scrooge glanced towards the Phantom. Its steady hand was pointed tothe head. The cover was so carelessly adjusted that the slightest raising ofit, the motion of a finger upon Scrooge's part, would have disclosed theface. He thought of it, felt how easy it would be to do, and longed to do it;but had no more power to withdraw the veil than to dismiss the spectre athis side.Oh cold, cold, rigid, dreadful Death, set up thine altar here, and dress itwith such terrors as thou hast at thy command: for this is thy dominion.But of the loved, revered, and honoured head, thou canst not turn one hairto thy dread purposes, or make one feature odious. It is not that the hand isheavy and will fall down when released; it is not that the heart and pulseare still; but that the hand was open, generous, and true; the heart brave,warm, and tender; and the pulse a man's. Strike, Shadow, strike. And seehis good deeds springing from the wound, to sow the world with lifeimmortal.No voice pronounced these words in Scrooge's ears, and yet he heardthem when he looked upon the bed. He thought, if this man could beraised up now, what would be his foremost thoughts. Avarice, hard-dealing,griping cares. They have brought him to a rich end, truly.He lay, in the dark empty house, with not a man, a woman, or a child,to say that he was kind to me in this or that, and for the memory of onekind word I will be kind to him. A cat was tearing at the door, and therewas a sound of gnawing rats beneath the hearth-stone. What they wantedin the room of death, and why they were so restless and disturbed, Scroogedid not dare to think.`Spirit.' he said,' this is a fearful place. In leaving it, I shall not leave its64--------------------------------------- 65A CHRISTMAS CAROLlesson, trust me. Let us go.'Still the Ghost pointed with an unmoved finger to the head.`I understand you,' Scrooge returned,' and I would do it, if I could. ButI have not the power, Spirit. I have not the power.'Again it seemed to look upon him.`If there is any person in the town, who feels emotion caused by thisman's death,' said Scrooge quite agonised, `show that person to me, Spirit,I beseech you.'The Phantom spread its dark robe before him for a moment, like awing; and withdrawing it, revealed a room by daylight, where a motherand her children were.She was expecting some one, and with anxious eagerness; for shewalked up and down the room; started at every sound; looked out from thewindow; glanced at the clock; tried, but in vain, to work with her needle;and could hardly bear the voices of the children in their play.At length the long-expected knock was heard. She hurried to the door,and met her husband; a man whose face was careworn and depressed,though he was young. There was a remarkable expression in it now; a kindof serious delight of which he felt ashamed, and which he struggled torepress.He sat down to the dinner that had been boarding for him by the fire;and when she asked him faintly what news (which was not until after along silence), he appeared embarrassed how to answer.`Is it good.' she said, `or bad?' -- to help him.`Bad,' he answered.`We are quite ruined.'`No. There is hope yet, Caroline.'`If he relents,' she said, amazed, `there is. Nothing is past hope, if sucha miracle has happened.'`He is past relenting,' said her husband. `He is dead.'She was a mild and patient creature if her face spoke truth; but she wasthankful in her soul to hear it, and she said so, with clasped hands. Sheprayed forgiveness the next moment, and was sorry; but the first was theemotion of her heart.65--------------------------------------- 66A CHRISTMAS CAROL`What the half-drunken woman whom I told you of last night, said tome, when I tried to see him and obtain a week's delay; and what I thoughtwas a mere excuse to avoid me; turns out to have been quite true. He wasnot only very ill, but dying, then.'`To whom will our debt be transferred.'`I don't know. But before that time we shall be ready with the money;and even though we were not, it would be a bad fortune indeed to find somerciless a creditor in his successor. We may sleep to-night with lighthearts, Caroline.'Yes. Soften it as they would, their hearts were lighter. The children'sfaces, hushed and clustered round to hear what they so little understood,were brighter; and it was a happier house for this man's death. The onlyemotion that the Ghost could show him, caused by the event, was one ofpleasure.`Let me see some tenderness connected with a death,' said Scrooge;' orthat dark chamber, Spirit, which we left just now, will be for ever presentto me.'The Ghost conducted him through several streets familiar to his feet;and as they went along, Scrooge looked here and there to find himself, butnowhere was he to be seen. They entered poor Bob Cratchit's house; thedwelling he had visited before; and found the mother and the childrenseated round the fire.Quiet. Very quiet. The noisy little Cratchits were as still as statues inone corner, and sat looking up at Peter, who had a book before him. Themother and her daughters were engaged in sewing. But surely they werevery quiet.`And he took a child, and set him in the midst of them.'Where had Scrooge heard those words. He had not dreamed them. Theboy must have read them out, as he and the Spirit crossed the threshold.Why did he not go on.The mother laid her work upon the table, and put her hand up to herface.`The colour hurts my eyes,' she said.The colour. Ah, poor Tiny Tim.66--------------------------------------- 67A CHRISTMAS CAROL`They're better now again,' said Cratchit's wife. `It makes them weakby candle-light; and I wouldn't show weak eyes to your father when hecomes home, for the world. It must be near his time.'`Past it rather,' Peter answered, shutting up his book. `But I think hehas walked a little slower than he used, these few last evenings, mother.'They were very quiet again. At last she said, and in a steady, cheerfulvoice, that only faltered once:`I have known him walk with -- I have known him walk with Tiny Timupon his shoulder, very fast indeed.'`And so have I,' cried Peter. `Often.'`And so have I,' exclaimed another. So had all.`But he was very light to carry,' she resumed, intent upon her work,'and his father loved him so, that it was no trouble: no trouble. And there isyour father at the door.'She hurried out to meet him; and little Bob in his comforter -- he hadneed of it, poor fellow -- came in. His tea was ready for him on the hob,and they all tried who should help him to it most. Then the two youngCratchits got upon his knees and laid, each child a little cheek, against hisface, as if they said,' Don't mind it, father. Don't be grieved.'Bob was very cheerful with them, and spoke pleasantly to all thefamily. He looked at the work upon the table, and praised the industry andspeed of Mrs Cratchit and the girls. They would be done long beforeSunday, he said.`Sunday. You went to-day, then, Robert.' said his wife.`Yes, my dear,' returned Bob. `I wish you could have gone. It wouldhave done you good to see how green a place it is. But you'll see it often. Ipromised him that I would walk there on a Sunday. My little, little child.'cried Bob. `My little child.'He broke down all at once. He couldn't help it. If he could have helpedit, he and his child would have been farther apart perhaps than they were.He left the room, and went up-stairs into the room above, which waslighted cheerfully, and hung with Christmas. There was a chair set closebeside the child, and there were signs of some one having been there,lately. Poor Bob sat down in it, and when he had thought a little and67--------------------------------------- 68A CHRISTMAS CAROLcomposed himself, he kissed the little face. He was reconciled to what hadhappened, and went down again quite happy.They drew about the fire, and talked; the girls and mother working still.Bob told them of the extraordinary kindness of Mr Scrooge's nephew,whom he had scarcely seen but once, and who, meeting him in the streetthat day, and seeing that he looked a little -' just a little down you know,'said Bob, inquired what had happened to distress him. `On which,' saidBob,' for he is the pleasantest-spoken gentleman you ever heard, I told him.`I am heartily sorry for it, Mr Cratchit,' he said,' and heartily sorry for yourgood wife.' By the bye, how he ever knew that, I don't know.'`Knew what, my dear.'`Why, that you were a good wife,' replied Bob.`Everybody knows that.' said Peter.`Very well observed, my boy.' cried Bob. `I hope they do. `Heartilysorry,' he said,' for your good wife. If I can be of service to you in anyway,' he said, giving me his card,' that's where I live. Pray come to me.'Now, it wasn't,' cried Bob,' for the sake of anything he might be able to dofor us, so much as for his kind way, that this was quite delightful. It reallyseemed as if he had known our Tiny Tim, and felt with us.'`I'm sure he's a good soul.' said Mrs Cratchit.`You would be surer of it, my dear,' returned Bob,' if you saw andspoke to him. I shouldn't be at all surprised - mark what I say. -- if he gotPeter a better situation.'`Only hear that, Peter,' said Mrs Cratchit.`And then,' cried one of the girls,' Peter will be keeping company withsome one, and setting up for himself.'`Get along with you.' retorted Peter, grinning.`It's just as likely as not,' said Bob,' one of these days; though there'splenty of time for that, my dear. But however and when ever we part fromone another, I am sure we shall none of us forget poor Tiny Tim -- shall we-- or this first parting that there was among us.'`Never, father.' cried they all.`And I know,' said Bob,' I know, my dears, that when we recollect howpatient and how mild he was; although he was a little, little child; we shall68--------------------------------------- 69A CHRISTMAS CAROLnot quarrel easily among ourselves, and forget poor Tiny Tim in doing it.'`No, never, father.' they all cried again.`I am very happy,' said little Bob,' I am very happy.'Mrs Cratchit kissed him, his daughters kissed him, the two youngCratchits kissed him, and Peter and himself shook hands. Spirit of TinyTim, thy childish essence was from God.`Spectre,' said Scrooge,' something informs me that our partingmoment is at hand. I know it, but I know not how. Tell me what man thatwas whom we saw lying dead.'The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come conveyed him, as before --though at a different time, he thought: indeed, there seemed no order inthese latter visions, save that they were in the Future -- into the resorts ofbusiness men, but showed him not himself. Indeed, the Spirit did not stay