_The End of It_
Yes! and the bedpost was his own. The bed was his own, the room was
his own. Best and happiest of all, the Time before him was his own,
to make amends in!
"I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future!" Scrooge
repeated, as he scrambled out of bed. "The Spirits of all Three
shall strive within me. Oh, Jacob Marley! Heaven, and the Christmas
Time be praised for this! I say it on my knees, old Jacob, on my
knees!"
He was so fluttered and so glowing with his good intentions, that his
broken voice would scarcely answer to his call. He had been sobbing
violently in his conflict with the Spirit, and his face was wet with
tears.
"They are not torn down," cried Scrooge, folding one of his
bed-curtains in his arms, "they are not torn down, rings and all.
They are here: I am here: the shadows of the things that would have
been may be dispelled. They will be. I know they will!"
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 don't know what to do!" cried Scrooge, laughing and crying in the
same breath; and making a perfect Laocoön of himself with his
stockings. "I am as light as a feather, I am as happy as an angel, I
am as merry as a schoolboy. I am as giddy as a drunken man. A Merry
Christmas to everybody! A Happy New Year to all the world. Hallo
here! Whoop! Hallo!"
He had frisked into the sitting-room, and was now standing there:
perfectly winded.
"There's the saucepan that the gruel was in!" cried Scrooge, starting
off again, and frisking round the fireplace. "There's the door, by
which the Ghost of Jacob Marley entered! There's the corner where
the Ghost of Christmas Present sat! There's the window where I saw
the wandering Spirits! It's all right, it's all true, it all
happened. Ha, ha, ha!"
Really, for a man who had been out of practise for so many years, it
was a splendid laugh, a most illustrious laugh. The father of a
long, long line of brilliant laughs!
"I don't know what day of the month it is!" said Scrooge. "I don't
know how long I've been among the Spirits. I don't know anything.
I'm quite a baby. Never mind. I don't care. I'd rather be a baby.
Hallo! Whoop! Hallo here!"
He was checked in his transports by the churches ringing out the
lustiest peals he had ever heard. Clash, clang, hammer, ding, dong,
bell. Bell, dong, ding, hammer, clang, clash! Oh, glorious,
glorious!
Running to the window, he opened it, and put out his head. 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. Oh, glorious. Glorious!
"What's to-day?" cried Scrooge, calling downward to a boy in Sunday
clothes, who perhaps had loitered in to look about him.
"Eh?" returned the boy, with all his might of wonder.
"What's to-day, my fine fellow?" said Scrooge.
"To-day!" replied the boy. "Why, CHRISTMAS DAY."
"It's Christmas Day!" said Scrooge to himself. "I haven't missed it.
The Spirits have done it all in one night. They can do anything they
like. Of course they can. Of course they can. Hallo, my fine
fellow!"
"Hallo!" returned the boy.
"Do you know the Poulterer's, in the next street but one, at the
corner?" Scrooge inquired.
"I should hope I did," replied the lad.
"An intelligent boy!" said Scrooge. "A remarkable boy! Do you know
whether they've sold the prize turkey that was hanging up there? Not
the little prize turkey: the big one?"
"What, the one as big as me?" returned the boy.
"What a delightful boy!" said Scrooge. "It's a pleasure to talk to
him. Yes, my buck!"
"It's hanging there now," replied the boy.
"Is it?" said Scrooge. "Go and buy it."
"Walk-_er_!" exclaimed the boy.
"No, no," said Scrooge, "I am in earnest. Go and buy it, and tell
'em to bring it here, that I may give them the direction where to
take it. Come back with the man, and I'll give you a shilling. Come
back with him in less than five minutes, and I'll give you
half-a-crown!"
The boy was off like a shot. 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. "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 could never 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-humored fellows said: "Good-morning, sir! A Merry Christmas to
you!" And Scrooge said often afterward, 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 toward 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 gone.
"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
favor?"
"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.
"Thank'ee," 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 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
toward 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."
"Thank'ee. 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, 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?"
"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 endeavor 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!"
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 afterward; 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!