Read Online A Budget of Christmas Tales by Charles Dickens and Others by Charles Dickens - Free Book Online Page B

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 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 the children on the head, and looked down into the kitchens of houses, and up to the windows; and found everything could yield him pleasure. He had never dreamed that any walk--that any thing--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?" said Scrooge.
    "He's in the dining-room, sir, along with mistress. I'll show you up-stairs, 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.
    "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.
    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 I am about to raise your salary!"
    "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. 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