November 9, 2023 • 42 mins
"A Christmas Carol" is a classic novella by Charles Dickens that tells the story of Ebenezer Scrooge, a miserly old man who undergoes a transformation on Christmas Eve. Visited by three spirits, he learns the true meaning of Christmas and becomes a generous and compassionate person, embracing the holiday spirit. The story highlights themes of redemption, kindness, and the power of love, making it a beloved and enduring Christmas tale.
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This content was created in partnership and with the help of Artificial Intelligence AI
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A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens,Stave four. The last of the spirits,
the Phantom slowly, gravely, silentlyapproached. When it came near him,
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Scrooge bent down upon his knee,for in the very air through which
this spirit moved it seemed to scattergloom and mystery. It was shrouded in
a deep black garment, which concealedits head, its face, its form,
and left nothing of it visible saveone outstretched hand. But for this
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it would have been difficult to detachits figure from the night and separate it
from the darkness by which it wassurrounded. He felt that it was tall
and stately when it came beside him, and that its mysterious presence filled him
with a solemn dread. He knewno more, for the spirit neither spoke
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nor moved. I am in thepresence of the ghost of Christmas yet to
come, said Scrooge. The spiritanswered not, but pointed onward with its
hand. You are about to showme shadows of the things that have not
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happened, but will happen in thetime before us. Scrooge pursued, is
that so, spirit? The upperportion of the garment was contracted for an
instant in its folds, as ifthe spirit had inclined its head. That
was the only answer he received.Although well used to ghostly company by this
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time, Scrooge feared the silent shapeso much that his legs trembled beneath him,
and he found that he could hardlystand when he prepared to follow it.
The spirit paused a moment, asobserving this condition and giving him time
to recover. But Scrooge was allthe worse for this. It thrilled him
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with a vague, uncertain horror toknow that behind the dusky shroud there were
ghostly eyes intently fixed upon him,while he, though he stretched his own
to the utmost, could see nothingbut a spectral hand and one grave heap
of black ghost of the future.He exclaimed, I fear you more than
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any specter I have seen. Butas I know your purpose is to do
me good, and as I hopeto live to be another man from what
I was, I am prepared tobear you company, and do it with
a thankful heart. Will you notspeak to me? It gave him no
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reply. The hand was pointed straightbefore them. Lead on, said Scrooge.
Lead on. The night is waningfast, and it is precious time
to me, I know, Leadon, spirit. The phantom moved away
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as it had come towards him.Scrooge followed in the shadow of its dress,
which bore him up, he thought, and carried him along. They
scarcely seemed to enter the city,for the city rather seemed to spring up
about them and encompass them of itsown act. But there they were,
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in the heart of it, onchange among the merchants, who hurried up
and down and chinked the money intheir pockets, and conversed it in groups,
and looked at their watches, andtrifled thoughtfully with their great gold seals,
and so forth, as Scrooge hadseen them. Often, the spirits
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stopped beside one little nod of businessmen. Observing that the hand was pointed
to them, Scrooge advanced to listento their talk. No, said a
great fat man with a monstrous chin. I don't know much about it either
way. I only know he's dead. When did he, I inquired another
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last night, I believe why Whatwas the matter with him? Asked a
third, taking a vast quantity ofsnuff out of a very large snuff box.
I thought he'd never die. Godknows, said the first, with
a yawn. What has he donewith his money? Asked a red faced
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gentleman with a pendulous excrescence on theend of his nose that shook like the
gills of a turkey cock. Oh, I haven't heard, said the man
with a large chin, yawning again. Left it to his company. Perhaps
he hasn't left it to me,That's all I know. This pleasantry was
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received with a general laugh. It'slikely to be a very cheap funeral,
said the same speaker. For uponmy life, I don't know of anyone
to go to it. Suppose wemake up a party and volunteer. I
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don't mind going if a lunch isprovided, observed the gentleman with the excrescence
on his nose. But I mustbe fed if I make one another laugh.
Well, I'm the most disinterested amongyou, after all, said the
first speaker. For I never wearblack gloves and I never eat lunch.
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But I'll offer to go if anyone else will. When I come to
think of it, I'm not atall sure that I wasn't his most particular
friend. For we used to stopand speak whenever we met. Bye bye
speakers and listeners strolled away and mixedwith other groups. Scrooge knew the men
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and looked towards the spirit for anexplanation. The phantom glided into a street.
Its finger pointed to two persons meeting. Scrooge listened again, thinking that
the explanation might lie here. Heknew these men also perfectly. They were
men of business, very wealthy,and of great importance. He had made
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a point always of standing well intheir esteem in a business point of view,
that is, strictly in a businesspoint of view. How are you,
said one? How are you returnedthe other? Well, said the
first one, Old scratch has gothis own at last. Eh, so,
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I'm told, returned the second cold. Isn't it seasonable for Christmas time?
You're not a skater? I suppose? No? No something else to
think of? Good morning, notanother word. That was their meeting,
their conversation, and their parting.Scrooge was at first inclined to be surprised
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that the spirit should attach importance toconversations apparently so trivial, But feeling assured
that they must have some hidden purpose, he set himself to consider what it
was likely to be. They couldscarcely be supposed to have any bearing on
the death of Jacob, his oldpartner, for that was past, and
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this ghost providence was the future.Nor could he think of any one immediately
connected with himself to whom he couldapply them, but nothing doubting that to
whomsoever they applied, they had somelatent moral For his own improvement. He
resolved to treasure up every word heheard and everything he saw, and especially
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to observe the shadow of himself whenit appeared, for he had an expectation
that the conduct of his future selfwould give him the clue he missed,
and would render the solution of theseriddles easy. He looked about in that
very place for his own image,But another man stood in his accustomed corner,
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and though the clock pointed to hisusual time of day, for being
there, he saw no likeness ofhimself among the multitudes that poured in through
the porch. It gave him littlesurprise, however, for he had been
revolving in his mind a change oflife and thought, and hoped he saw
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his new born resolutions carried out inthis quiet and dark Beside him stood the
phantom with its outstretched hand. Whenhe roused himself from his thoughtful quest,
he fancied from the turn of thehand and its situation in reference to himself.
That the unseen eyes were looking athim keenly made him shudder and feel
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very cold. They left the busyscene and went into an obscure part of
town where Scrooge had never penetrated before, although he recognized its situation and its
bad repute. The ways were fouland narrow, the shops and houses wretched,
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the people half naked, drunken,slipshod. Ugly alleys and archways,
like so many cesspools, disgorged theiroffenses of smell and dirt and life upon
the straggling streets, and the wholequarter reeked with crime, with filth and
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misery. Far in this den ofinfamous resort, there was a low browed
beetling shop below a penthouse roof,where iron old rags, bottles, bones,
and greasy offal were bought. Uponthe floor within were piled up heaps
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of rusty keys, nails, chains, hinges, files, scales, weights,
and refuse iron of all kinds.Secrets that few would like to scrutinize,
were bred and hidden in the mountainsof unseemly rags, masses of corrupted
fat, and sepulchures of bones.Sitting in among the wares he dealt in
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by a charcoal stove made of oldbricks, was a gray haired rascal nearly
seventy years of age, who hadscreamed himself from the cold air without by
a frowsy curtaining of miscellaneous tatters,hung upon a line, and smoked his
pipe in all the luxury of calmretirement. Rouge and the phantom came into
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the presence of this man just asa woman with a heavy bundle slunk into
the shop. But she had scarcelyentered when another woman, similarly laden came
in two, and she was closelyfollowed by a man and faded black,
who was no less startled by thesight of them than they had been upon
the recognition of each other. Aftera short period of blank astonishment, in
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which the old man with the pipejoined them, they all three burst into
a laugh let the charwoman alone tobe the first, cried she who entered
first. Let the laundress alone tobe the second, and let the undertaker's
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man alone to be the third.Look here, old Joe, here's a
chance they haven't all three met herewithout meaning it. You couldn't have met
in a better place, said oldJoe, removing his pipe from his mouth.
Come into the parlor. You weremade free of it long ago,
you know. And the other twoain't strangers. Stopped till I shut the
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door of the shop. Ah,how it shrieks. There ain't such a
rusty bit of metal in the placeas its own hinges, I believe,
And I'm sure there's no such oldbones here as mine. Hah ha.
We were all suitable to our calling. We're well matched. Come into the
parlor. Come into the parlor.The parlor was the space behind the screen
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of rags. The old man rakedthe fire together with the old stair rod,
and, having trimmed a smoky lampfor it was night, with the
stem of his pipe, put itin his mouth. Again. While he
did this, the woman, whohad already spoken through her bundle on the
floor and sat down in a flauntingmanner on a stool, crossing her elbows
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on her knees and looking with abold defiance at the other two. What
odds then? What odds? MissusDilber, said the woman. Every person
has a right to take care ofthemselves. He always did. That's true,
indeed, said the laundress. Noman. More so, why then,
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don't stand staring as if you wasafraid? Woman, who's the wiser?
We're not going to pick holes ineach other's coats? I suppose no,
indeed, said missus Dilbert. Andthe man together, we should hope,
not very well, then, criedthe woman. That's enough. Who's
the worse for the loss of afew things like these? Not a dead
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man? I suppose no, indeed, said Missus Dilber, laughing if he
wanted to keep him after he wasdead with wicked old screw, pursued the
woman. Why wasn't he natural inhis lifetime? If he had been,
he'd have had someone to look afterhim when he was struck with death instead
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of lying gasping out his last therealone by himself. It's the truest word
that ever was spoke, said MissusDilber. It's a judgment on him.
I wish it was a little heavierjudgment, replied the woman, And it
should have been. You may dependupon it if I could have laid my
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hands on anything else. Open thatbundle, old Joe, and let me
know the value of it. Speakout plain. I'm not afraid to be
the first, nor afraid for themto see it. We know pretty well
that we were helping ourselves before wemet here. I believe it's no sin.
Open the bundle, Joe. Butthe gallantry of her friends would not
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allow for this, and the manin fate black, mounting the breech first
produced his plunder. It was notextensive. A seal or two, a
pencil case, a pair of sleevebuttons, and a brooch of no great
value were all. They were severallyexamined and appraised by Old Joe, who
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chalked the sums he was disposed togive for each upon the wall, and
added them up into a total whenhe found there was nothing more to come.
Ah, that's your account, saidJoe. And I wouldn't give another
sixpence if I was to be boiledfor not doing it. It was next
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missus Dilber was next. Sheets andtowels, a little wearing a pair of
two old fashioned silver teaspoons, apair of sugar tongs, and a few
boots. Her account was stated onthe wall in the same manner. I
always give too much to the ladies. It's a weakness of mine. N
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that's the way I ruin myself,said old Joe. That's your account.
If you ask me for another pennyand made it an open question, I'd
repent of being so liberal and knockoff a half crown. And now undo
my bundle, Joe, said thefirst woman. Joe went down on his
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knees for the greater convenience of openingit, and, having unfastened a great
many knots, dragged out a largeand heavy roll of some dark stuff.
What do you call this? SaidJoe. Bed curtains, Ah, returned
the woman, laughing and leaning forwardon her crossed arms, Bed curtains.
You don't mean to say you tookhim down, rings and all with him
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lying there, said Joe. Yes, I do, replied the woman.
And why not? You were bornto make your fortune, said Joe,
and you'll search do it now.I certainly shan't hold my hand when I
can get anything in it by reachingit. Out for the sake of such
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a man as he was, Ipromise you, Joe, returned the woman
coolly. Don't drop oil upon theblankets now his blankets, asked Joe.
Who else is do you think?Replied the woman. He isn't likely to
take cold without him, I daresay. I hope he didn't die of
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anything catching, eh, said oldJoe, stopping in his work and looking
up. Ah, don't you beafraid of that, returned the woman.
I ain't so fond of his companythat i'd loiter about him for such things
if he did. Ah, youmay look through that shirt till your eyes
ache, but you won't find ahole in it, nor a thredbare place.
It's the best he had, anda fine one too. They'd have
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wasted it if it hadn't been forme. And what do you call wasting
of it? Asked Old Joe,putting it on em to be buried in
to be sure, replied the womanwith a laugh. Somebody was fool enough
to do it, but I tookit off again. If Kaliko ain't good
enough for such a purpose, itisn't good enough for anything. It's quite
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as becoming to the body. Hecan't look uglier than he did in that
one. Scrooge listened to this dialogin horror. As they sat grouped about
their spoil in the scanty light affordedby the old man's lamp. He viewed
them with a detestation and disgust whichcould hardly have been greater, though they
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had been obscene demons marketing the corpseitself. Ha ha ha, laughed the
same woman, when Old Joe,producing a flannel bag with money in it,
told out their several gains upon theground. This is the end of
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it, you see. He frightenedeveryone away from him when he was alive,
to profit us when he was dead. Ha ha ha, spirit,
said Scrooge, shuddering from head tofoot. I see, I see the
case of this unhappy man might bemy own. My life tends that way
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now, Merciful Heaven, what isthis? He recoiled in terror, for
the scene had changed, and nowhe almost touched a bed, a bare,
uncurtained bed, on which, beneatha ragged sheet, there lay a
something covered up, which, thoughit was dumb, announced itself in awful
language. The room was very dark, too dark to be observed with any
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accuracy. Though Scrooge glanced round itin obedience to a secret impulse, anxious
to know what kind of room itwas. A pale light rising in the
outer air, fell straight upon thebed, and on it plundered and breathed,
unwatched, unwept, uncared for wasthe body of this man? Scrooge
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glanced towards the phantom. Its steadyhand was pointed to the head. The
cover was so carelessly adjusted that theslightest raising of it, the motion of
a finger upon Scrooge's part, wouldhave disclosed the face. He thought of
it, felt how easy it wouldbe to do, and longed to do
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it, but had no more powerto withdraw the veil than to dismiss the
specter at his side. Oh,cold, cold, rigid, dreadful death,
set upon thine altar here, anddress it with such terrors as thou
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hast at thy command. For thisis thy dominion. But of the loved,
revered and honored head. Thou canstnot turn one hair to thy dead
purposes, or make one feature odious. It is not that the hand is
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heavy and will fall down when released. It is not that the heart and
pulse are still, but that thehand was open, generous and true,
the heart brave, warm and tender. The pulse a man's strike, shadow
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strike, and see his good deedsspringing from the wound, to sow the
world with life immortal. No voiceproduced these words in Scrooge's ears, and
yet he heard them. When helooked upon the bed, he thought,
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if this man could be raised upnow, what would be his foremost thoughts?
Avarice, hard dealing, griping cares. They have brought him a rich
end. Truly he lay in thedark, empty house, with not a
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man, a woman, or achild to say that he was kind to
me in this or that. Andfor the memory of one kind word,
I will be kind to him.A cat was tearing at the door,
and there was the sound of gnawingrats beneath the hearthstone. And what they
wanted in the room of death,and why they were so restless and disturbed.
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Scrooge did not dare to think spirit. He said, this is a
fearful place. In leaving it,I shall not leave its lesson. Trust
me let us go still. Theghost pointed with an un moved finger to
the head. I understand you,Scrooge returned, and I would do it
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if I could. But I havenot the power. Spirit, I have
not the power. And it seemedto look upon him. If there is
any person in the town who feelsa motion caused by this man's death,
said Scrooge, quite agonized, showthat person to me, Spirit, I
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beseech you. The phantom spread itsdark robe before him a moment like a
wing, and withdrawing it revealed aroom by daylight, where mother and her
children were. She was expecting someone, and with anxious eagerness for she
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walked up and down the room,started at every sound, looked out from
the window, glanced at the clock, tried but in vain to work with
her needle, and could hardly bearthe voices of the children in their play.
At length, the long expected knockwas heard. She hurried to the
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door and met her husband, aman whose face was careworn and depressed.
Though he was young, there wasa remarkable expression in it now, a
kind of serious delight of which hefelt ashamed, and which he struggled to
repress. He sat down to thedinner that had been hoarding for him by
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the fire, and when she askedhim faintly what news, which was not
until After a long silence, heappeared embarrassed. How to answer? Is
it good? She said, orbad? To help him bad? He
answered, we are quite ruined.No, there is hope yet, Caroline.
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If he relents, she said,amazed, there is nothing is past
hope. If such a miracle hashappened, he's past relenting, said her
husband. He is dead. Shewas a mild, impatient creature if her
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face spoke truth, but she wasthankful in her soul to hear it,
and said so with clasped hands.She prayed forgiveness the next moment, and
was sorry. But the first wasthe emotion of her heart. What the
half drunken woman whom I told youof last night said to me when I
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tried to see him and obtain aweek's delay, and what I thought was
a mere excuse to avoid me,turns out to have been quite true.
He was not only very ill,but dying. Then to whom will our
debt be transferred? I don't know, But before that time we shall be
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ready with the money. And eventhough we were not, it would be
a bad fortune, indeed, tofind so merciless a creditor in his successor.
We may sleep tonight with light hearts, Caroline, Yes, soften it
as they would. Their hearts werelighter. The children's faces hushed and clustered
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round to hear what they so littleunderstood, were brighter, and it was
a happier house for this man's death. The only emotion that the ghost could
show him caused by the event wasone of pleasure. Let me see some
tenderness connected with death, said Scrooge, Or that dark chamber spirit which we
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just left now will be forever presentto me. The ghosts conducted him through
several streets familiar to his feet,and as they went along, Scrooge looked
here and there to find himself,but nowhere was he to be seen.
They entered poor Bob Cratchett's house,the dwelling he had visited before, and
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found the mother and the children seatedround the fire, quiet, very quiet.
The noisy little crotchets were still asstatues in one corner, and sat
looking up at Peter, who hada book before him. The mother and
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her daughters were engaged in sewing,but surely they were very quiet, and
he took a child and set himin the midst of them. Where had
Scrooge heard those words. He hadnot dreamed them. The boy must have
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read them out as he, inthe spirit crossed the threshold. Why did
he not go on? The motherlaid her work upon the table and put
her hands up to her face.The color hurts my eyes, she said,
the color. Ah, poor tinyTim. They're better now again,
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said Cratchett's wife. It makes themweak by candlelight. I wouldn't show weak
eyes to your father when he comeshome for the world. It must be
near his time passed it rather,Peter answered, shutting up his book.
But I think he has walked alittle slower than he used these last few
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evenings. Mother, they were veryquiet again at last, she said,
and in a steady, cheerful voicethat only faltered once. I have known
him to walk with I have knownhim to walk with tiny Tim upon his
shoulder, very fast, indeed,And so have I cried Peter often,
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And so have I exclaimed another.So at all. But he was very
light to carry. She resumed,intent upon her words. And his father
loved him so that it was notrouble, no trouble. And there is
your father at the door. Shehurried out to meet him, and little
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Bob in his comforter he had needof it. Poor fellow came in.
His tea was ready for him onthe hob, and they all tried who
should help him to it. Most. Then the two young Cratchets got upon
his knees and laid each child alittle cheek against his face, as if
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they said, don't mind it,father, don't be grieved. Bob was
very cheerful with them, and spokepleasantly to all the family. He looked
at the work upon the table andpraised the industry in speed of missus Cratchett
and the girls. They would bedone long before Sunday, he said,
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Sunday you went to day? Then, Robert said his wife. Yes,
my dear, returned Bob, Iwish you could have gone. It would
have done you good to see howgreen a place it is. But you'll
see it often. I promised himthat I would walk there on a Sunday.
My little little child, cried,Bob, my little child. He
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broke down all at once. Hecouldn't help it. If he could have
helped it, he and his childwould have been farther apart than they were.
He left the room and went upstairsinto the room above, which was
lighted cheerfully and hung with Christmas.There was a chair set close beside the
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child, and there were signs ofsome one having been there lately. Poor
Bob sat down in it, andwhen he had thought a little and composed
himself, he kissed the little face. He was reconciled to what had happened,
and went down again quite happy.They drew about the fire and talked,
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the girls and mother working still.Bob told them of the extraordinary kindness
of mister Scrooge's nephew, whom hehad scarcely seen but once, and who
meeting him in the street that day, and seeing that he looked a little
just a little down, you know, said Bob, inquired what had happened
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to distress him, on which,said Bob, for he's the pleasantest smoken
gentleman you have ever heard. Itold him. I am hardily sorry for
it, mister Cratchett, he said, and hardily sorry for your good wife.
By the bye. How he ever, knew that, I don't know
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knew what, my dear, whythat you are a good wife, replied
Bob. Everybody knows that, saidPeter, very well, observed my boy,
cried Bob. I hope they do. Heartily Sorry, he said,
for your good wife. If Ican be of service to you in any
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way, he said, giving mehis card, That's where I live.
Pray come to me now. Itwasn't, cried Bob, for the sake
of anything he might be able todo for us, so much as for
his kind way. That this wasquite delightful. It really seemed as if
he had known our tiny Tim andfelt with us. Well. I'm sure
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he's a good soul, said missusCratchett. You would be sure of it,
my dear, returned Bob, ifyou saw and spoke to him,
I shouldn't be at all surprised.Mark what I say. If he got
Peter a better situation, only hearthat, Peter, said Missus Cratchett,
and then cried one of the girls. Peter will be keeping company with some
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one and setting up for himself.Get along with you, retorted Peter,
grinning. It's just as likely asnot, said Bob. One of these
days, though. There's plenty oftime for that, my dear. But
however, and whenever we part fromone another, I am sure we shall
none of us forget poor tiny Tim. Shall we? Or this first parting
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that there was among us. NeverFather, cried they all, And I
know, said Bob, I know, my DearS, that when we recollect,
how patient and mild he was,although he was little, the little
child, we shall not quarrel easilyamong ourselves and forget poor tiny Tim in
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doing it. No, Never Father, they all cried again. I'm very
happy, said little Bob. Iam very happy. Missus Cratchett kissed him,
His daughters kissed him. The twoyoung Cratchets kissed him, and Peter
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and himself shook hands. Spirit ofTiny Tim. Thy childish essence was from
God, specter, said Scrooge.Something informs me that our parting moment is
at hand. I know it,but I know not how tell me what
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man that was whom we saw lyingdead? 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 resortsof business men, but showed him not
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himself. Indeed, the spirit didnot stay for anything, but went straight
on as to the end, justnow desired, until besought by Scrooge to
tarry for a moment. This court, said Scrooge, through which we hurry,
now is where my place of occupationis, and has been for a
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length of time. I see thehouse, Let me behold what I shall
be in days to come. TheSpirit stopped, the hand was pointed elsewhere.
The house is yonder. Scrooge exclaimed, why do you point away?
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The inexorable finger underwent no change.Scrooge hastened to the window of his office
and looked in. It was anoffice, still, but not his.
The furniture was not the same,and the figure in the chair was not
himself. The phantom pointed as before. He joined it once again, and,
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wondering why and whither he had gone, accompanied it until they reached an
iron gate. He paused to lookround before entering a churchyard. Here then
the wretched man, whose name hehad now to learn, lay underneath the
ground. It was a worthy place, walled in by houses, overrun by
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grass and weeds, the growth ofvegetation's death, not life choked up with
too much burying fat, with repleatedappetite. A worthy place. The Spirit
stood among the graves and pointed downto one. He advanced towards it,
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trembling, The phantom was exactly asit had been, but he dreaded that
he saw new meaning in its solemnshape. Before I draw nearer to that
stone to which you point, saidScrooge, Answer me one question. Are
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these the shadows of the things thatwill be? Or are they shadows of
things that may be? Only?Still? The ghost pointed downward to the
grave by which it stood. Men'scourses will foreshadow certain ends to which,
(38:57):
if persevered in, they must lead, said Scrooge. But if the courses
be departed from the ends will change. Say it is thus with what you
show me. The spirit was immovableas ever. Scrooge crept towards it,
(39:23):
trembling as he went, and followingthe finger read upon the stone of the
neglected grave his own name, EbenezerScrooge, the last of the spirits?
(39:49):
Am I that man who lay uponthe bed? He cried upon his knees.
The finger pointed from the grave tohim and back again. No spirit,
Oh no, no, the fingerstill was there. Spirit? He
(40:10):
cried, tight clutching at its robe. Hear me, I am not the
man I was, I will notbe the man I must have been.
For this intercourse? Why show methis if I am past all hope.
For the first time, the handappeared to shake good spirit. He pursued
(40:36):
as down upon the ground he fellbefore it. Your nature intercedes for me
and pities me. Assure me thatI yet may change these shadows you have
shown me by an altered life.The kind hand trembled. I will honor
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Christmas in my heart and try tokeep it all the year. I will
live in the past, the present, and the future. The spirits of
all three shall strive within me.I will not shut out the lessons that
they teach. Oh tell me,I may sponge away the writing on this
(41:25):
stone. In his agony, hecaught the spectral hand. It sought to
free itself, but he was strongin his entreaty and detained it. The
spirit stronger yet, repulsed him,holding up his hand in a last prayer
(41:46):
to have his fate reversed. Hesaw an alteration in the phantom's hood and
dress. It shrunk, collapsed,and dwindled down into a bed post.
End of Stave four
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(00:22):
A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens,Stave four. The last of the spirits,
the Phantom slowly, gravely, silentlyapproached. When it came near him,
(00:44):
Scrooge bent down upon his knee,for in the very air through which
this spirit moved it seemed to scattergloom and mystery. It was shrouded in
a deep black garment, which concealedits head, its face, its form,
and left nothing of it visible saveone outstretched hand. But for this
(01:07):
it would have been difficult to detachits figure from the night and separate it
from the darkness by which it wassurrounded. He felt that it was tall
and stately when it came beside him, and that its mysterious presence filled him
with a solemn dread. He knewno more, for the spirit neither spoke
(01:29):
nor moved. I am in thepresence of the ghost of Christmas yet to
come, said Scrooge. The spiritanswered not, but pointed onward with its
hand. You are about to showme shadows of the things that have not
(01:52):
happened, but will happen in thetime before us. Scrooge pursued, is
that so, spirit? The upperportion of the garment was contracted for an
instant in its folds, as ifthe spirit had inclined its head. That
was the only answer he received.Although well used to ghostly company by this
(02:15):
time, Scrooge feared the silent shapeso much that his legs trembled beneath him,
and he found that he could hardlystand when he prepared to follow it.
The spirit paused a moment, asobserving this condition and giving him time
to recover. But Scrooge was allthe worse for this. It thrilled him
(02:42):
with a vague, uncertain horror toknow that behind the dusky shroud there were
ghostly eyes intently fixed upon him,while he, though he stretched his own
to the utmost, could see nothingbut a spectral hand and one grave heap
of black ghost of the future.He exclaimed, I fear you more than
(03:08):
any specter I have seen. Butas I know your purpose is to do
me good, and as I hopeto live to be another man from what
I was, I am prepared tobear you company, and do it with
a thankful heart. Will you notspeak to me? It gave him no
(03:28):
reply. The hand was pointed straightbefore them. Lead on, said Scrooge.
Lead on. The night is waningfast, and it is precious time
to me, I know, Leadon, spirit. The phantom moved away
(03:49):
as it had come towards him.Scrooge followed in the shadow of its dress,
which bore him up, he thought, and carried him along. They
scarcely seemed to enter the city,for the city rather seemed to spring up
about them and encompass them of itsown act. But there they were,
(04:12):
in the heart of it, onchange among the merchants, who hurried up
and down and chinked the money intheir pockets, and conversed it in groups,
and looked at their watches, andtrifled thoughtfully with their great gold seals,
and so forth, as Scrooge hadseen them. Often, the spirits
(04:38):
stopped beside one little nod of businessmen. Observing that the hand was pointed
to them, Scrooge advanced to listento their talk. No, said a
great fat man with a monstrous chin. I don't know much about it either
way. I only know he's dead. When did he, I inquired another
(05:02):
last night, I believe why Whatwas the matter with him? Asked a
third, taking a vast quantity ofsnuff out of a very large snuff box.
I thought he'd never die. Godknows, said the first, with
a yawn. What has he donewith his money? Asked a red faced
(05:26):
gentleman with a pendulous excrescence on theend of his nose that shook like the
gills of a turkey cock. Oh, I haven't heard, said the man
with a large chin, yawning again. Left it to his company. Perhaps
he hasn't left it to me,That's all I know. This pleasantry was
(05:48):
received with a general laugh. It'slikely to be a very cheap funeral,
said the same speaker. For uponmy life, I don't know of anyone
to go to it. Suppose wemake up a party and volunteer. I
(06:08):
don't mind going if a lunch isprovided, observed the gentleman with the excrescence
on his nose. But I mustbe fed if I make one another laugh.
Well, I'm the most disinterested amongyou, after all, said the
first speaker. For I never wearblack gloves and I never eat lunch.
(06:30):
But I'll offer to go if anyone else will. When I come to
think of it, I'm not atall sure that I wasn't his most particular
friend. For we used to stopand speak whenever we met. Bye bye
speakers and listeners strolled away and mixedwith other groups. Scrooge knew the men
(06:56):
and looked towards the spirit for anexplanation. The phantom glided into a street.
Its finger pointed to two persons meeting. Scrooge listened again, thinking that
the explanation might lie here. Heknew these men also perfectly. They were
men of business, very wealthy,and of great importance. He had made
(07:21):
a point always of standing well intheir esteem in a business point of view,
that is, strictly in a businesspoint of view. How are you,
said one? How are you returnedthe other? Well, said the
first one, Old scratch has gothis own at last. Eh, so,
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I'm told, returned the second cold. Isn't it seasonable for Christmas time?
You're not a skater? I suppose? No? No something else to
think of? Good morning, notanother word. That was their meeting,
their conversation, and their parting.Scrooge was at first inclined to be surprised
(08:09):
that the spirit should attach importance toconversations apparently so trivial, But feeling assured
that they must have some hidden purpose, he set himself to consider what it
was likely to be. They couldscarcely be supposed to have any bearing on
the death of Jacob, his oldpartner, for that was past, and
(08:31):
this ghost providence was the future.Nor could he think of any one immediately
connected with himself to whom he couldapply them, but nothing doubting that to
whomsoever they applied, they had somelatent moral For his own improvement. He
resolved to treasure up every word heheard and everything he saw, and especially
(08:52):
to observe the shadow of himself whenit appeared, for he had an expectation
that the conduct of his future selfwould give him the clue he missed,
and would render the solution of theseriddles easy. He looked about in that
very place for his own image,But another man stood in his accustomed corner,
(09:16):
and though the clock pointed to hisusual time of day, for being
there, he saw no likeness ofhimself among the multitudes that poured in through
the porch. It gave him littlesurprise, however, for he had been
revolving in his mind a change oflife and thought, and hoped he saw
(09:37):
his new born resolutions carried out inthis quiet and dark Beside him stood the
phantom with its outstretched hand. Whenhe roused himself from his thoughtful quest,
he fancied from the turn of thehand and its situation in reference to himself.
That the unseen eyes were looking athim keenly made him shudder and feel
(10:01):
very cold. They left the busyscene and went into an obscure part of
town where Scrooge had never penetrated before, although he recognized its situation and its
bad repute. The ways were fouland narrow, the shops and houses wretched,
(10:26):
the people half naked, drunken,slipshod. Ugly alleys and archways,
like so many cesspools, disgorged theiroffenses of smell and dirt and life upon
the straggling streets, and the wholequarter reeked with crime, with filth and
(10:48):
misery. Far in this den ofinfamous resort, there was a low browed
beetling shop below a penthouse roof,where iron old rags, bottles, bones,
and greasy offal were bought. Uponthe floor within were piled up heaps
(11:09):
of rusty keys, nails, chains, hinges, files, scales, weights,
and refuse iron of all kinds.Secrets that few would like to scrutinize,
were bred and hidden in the mountainsof unseemly rags, masses of corrupted
fat, and sepulchures of bones.Sitting in among the wares he dealt in
(11:37):
by a charcoal stove made of oldbricks, was a gray haired rascal nearly
seventy years of age, who hadscreamed himself from the cold air without by
a frowsy curtaining of miscellaneous tatters,hung upon a line, and smoked his
pipe in all the luxury of calmretirement. Rouge and the phantom came into
(12:01):
the presence of this man just asa woman with a heavy bundle slunk into
the shop. But she had scarcelyentered when another woman, similarly laden came
in two, and she was closelyfollowed by a man and faded black,
who was no less startled by thesight of them than they had been upon
the recognition of each other. Aftera short period of blank astonishment, in
(12:26):
which the old man with the pipejoined them, they all three burst into
a laugh let the charwoman alone tobe the first, cried she who entered
first. Let the laundress alone tobe the second, and let the undertaker's
(12:46):
man alone to be the third.Look here, old Joe, here's a
chance they haven't all three met herewithout meaning it. You couldn't have met
in a better place, said oldJoe, removing his pipe from his mouth.
Come into the parlor. You weremade free of it long ago,
you know. And the other twoain't strangers. Stopped till I shut the
(13:11):
door of the shop. Ah,how it shrieks. There ain't such a
rusty bit of metal in the placeas its own hinges, I believe,
And I'm sure there's no such oldbones here as mine. Hah ha.
We were all suitable to our calling. We're well matched. Come into the
parlor. Come into the parlor.The parlor was the space behind the screen
(13:37):
of rags. The old man rakedthe fire together with the old stair rod,
and, having trimmed a smoky lampfor it was night, with the
stem of his pipe, put itin his mouth. Again. While he
did this, the woman, whohad already spoken through her bundle on the
floor and sat down in a flauntingmanner on a stool, crossing her elbows
(14:01):
on her knees and looking with abold defiance at the other two. What
odds then? What odds? MissusDilber, said the woman. Every person
has a right to take care ofthemselves. He always did. That's true,
indeed, said the laundress. Noman. More so, why then,
(14:26):
don't stand staring as if you wasafraid? Woman, who's the wiser?
We're not going to pick holes ineach other's coats? I suppose no,
indeed, said missus Dilbert. Andthe man together, we should hope,
not very well, then, criedthe woman. That's enough. Who's
the worse for the loss of afew things like these? Not a dead
(14:48):
man? I suppose no, indeed, said Missus Dilber, laughing if he
wanted to keep him after he wasdead with wicked old screw, pursued the
woman. Why wasn't he natural inhis lifetime? If he had been,
he'd have had someone to look afterhim when he was struck with death instead
(15:11):
of lying gasping out his last therealone by himself. It's the truest word
that ever was spoke, said MissusDilber. It's a judgment on him.
I wish it was a little heavierjudgment, replied the woman, And it
should have been. You may dependupon it if I could have laid my
(15:35):
hands on anything else. Open thatbundle, old Joe, and let me
know the value of it. Speakout plain. I'm not afraid to be
the first, nor afraid for themto see it. We know pretty well
that we were helping ourselves before wemet here. I believe it's no sin.
Open the bundle, Joe. Butthe gallantry of her friends would not
(15:56):
allow for this, and the manin fate black, mounting the breech first
produced his plunder. It was notextensive. A seal or two, a
pencil case, a pair of sleevebuttons, and a brooch of no great
value were all. They were severallyexamined and appraised by Old Joe, who
(16:17):
chalked the sums he was disposed togive for each upon the wall, and
added them up into a total whenhe found there was nothing more to come.
Ah, that's your account, saidJoe. And I wouldn't give another
sixpence if I was to be boiledfor not doing it. It was next
(16:40):
missus Dilber was next. Sheets andtowels, a little wearing a pair of
two old fashioned silver teaspoons, apair of sugar tongs, and a few
boots. Her account was stated onthe wall in the same manner. I
always give too much to the ladies. It's a weakness of mine. N
(17:00):
that's the way I ruin myself,said old Joe. That's your account.
If you ask me for another pennyand made it an open question, I'd
repent of being so liberal and knockoff a half crown. And now undo
my bundle, Joe, said thefirst woman. Joe went down on his
(17:22):
knees for the greater convenience of openingit, and, having unfastened a great
many knots, dragged out a largeand heavy roll of some dark stuff.
What do you call this? SaidJoe. Bed curtains, Ah, returned
the woman, laughing and leaning forwardon her crossed arms, Bed curtains.
You don't mean to say you tookhim down, rings and all with him
(17:45):
lying there, said Joe. Yes, I do, replied the woman.
And why not? You were bornto make your fortune, said Joe,
and you'll search do it now.I certainly shan't hold my hand when I
can get anything in it by reachingit. Out for the sake of such
(18:07):
a man as he was, Ipromise you, Joe, returned the woman
coolly. Don't drop oil upon theblankets now his blankets, asked Joe.
Who else is do you think?Replied the woman. He isn't likely to
take cold without him, I daresay. I hope he didn't die of
(18:30):
anything catching, eh, said oldJoe, stopping in his work and looking
up. Ah, don't you beafraid of that, returned the woman.
I ain't so fond of his companythat i'd loiter about him for such things
if he did. Ah, youmay look through that shirt till your eyes
ache, but you won't find ahole in it, nor a thredbare place.
It's the best he had, anda fine one too. They'd have
(18:52):
wasted it if it hadn't been forme. And what do you call wasting
of it? Asked Old Joe,putting it on em to be buried in
to be sure, replied the womanwith a laugh. Somebody was fool enough
to do it, but I tookit off again. If Kaliko ain't good
enough for such a purpose, itisn't good enough for anything. It's quite
(19:17):
as becoming to the body. Hecan't look uglier than he did in that
one. Scrooge listened to this dialogin horror. As they sat grouped about
their spoil in the scanty light affordedby the old man's lamp. He viewed
them with a detestation and disgust whichcould hardly have been greater, though they
(19:37):
had been obscene demons marketing the corpseitself. Ha ha ha, laughed the
same woman, when Old Joe,producing a flannel bag with money in it,
told out their several gains upon theground. This is the end of
(19:57):
it, you see. He frightenedeveryone away from him when he was alive,
to profit us when he was dead. Ha ha ha, spirit,
said Scrooge, shuddering from head tofoot. I see, I see the
case of this unhappy man might bemy own. My life tends that way
(20:18):
now, Merciful Heaven, what isthis? He recoiled in terror, for
the scene had changed, and nowhe almost touched a bed, a bare,
uncurtained bed, on which, beneatha ragged sheet, there lay a
something covered up, which, thoughit was dumb, announced itself in awful
language. The room was very dark, too dark to be observed with any
(20:45):
accuracy. Though Scrooge glanced round itin obedience to a secret impulse, anxious
to know what kind of room itwas. A pale light rising in the
outer air, fell straight upon thebed, and on it plundered and breathed,
unwatched, unwept, uncared for wasthe body of this man? Scrooge
(21:08):
glanced towards the phantom. Its steadyhand was pointed to the head. The
cover was so carelessly adjusted that theslightest raising of it, the motion of
a finger upon Scrooge's part, wouldhave disclosed the face. He thought of
it, felt how easy it wouldbe to do, and longed to do
(21:29):
it, but had no more powerto withdraw the veil than to dismiss the
specter at his side. Oh,cold, cold, rigid, dreadful death,
set upon thine altar here, anddress it with such terrors as thou
(21:49):
hast at thy command. For thisis thy dominion. But of the loved,
revered and honored head. Thou canstnot turn one hair to thy dead
purposes, or make one feature odious. It is not that the hand is
(22:10):
heavy and will fall down when released. It is not that the heart and
pulse are still, but that thehand was open, generous and true,
the heart brave, warm and tender. The pulse a man's strike, shadow
(22:32):
strike, and see his good deedsspringing from the wound, to sow the
world with life immortal. No voiceproduced these words in Scrooge's ears, and
yet he heard them. When helooked upon the bed, he thought,
(22:52):
if this man could be raised upnow, what would be his foremost thoughts?
Avarice, hard dealing, griping cares. They have brought him a rich
end. Truly he lay in thedark, empty house, with not a
(23:15):
man, a woman, or achild to say that he was kind to
me in this or that. Andfor the memory of one kind word,
I will be kind to him.A cat was tearing at the door,
and there was the sound of gnawingrats beneath the hearthstone. And what they
wanted in the room of death,and why they were so restless and disturbed.
(23:40):
Scrooge did not dare to think spirit. He said, this is a
fearful place. In leaving it,I shall not leave its lesson. Trust
me let us go still. Theghost pointed with an un moved finger to
the head. I understand you,Scrooge returned, and I would do it
(24:07):
if I could. But I havenot the power. Spirit, I have
not the power. And it seemedto look upon him. If there is
any person in the town who feelsa motion caused by this man's death,
said Scrooge, quite agonized, showthat person to me, Spirit, I
(24:30):
beseech you. The phantom spread itsdark robe before him a moment like a
wing, and withdrawing it revealed aroom by daylight, where mother and her
children were. She was expecting someone, and with anxious eagerness for she
(24:55):
walked up and down the room,started at every sound, looked out from
the window, glanced at the clock, tried but in vain to work with
her needle, and could hardly bearthe voices of the children in their play.
At length, the long expected knockwas heard. She hurried to the
(25:15):
door and met her husband, aman whose face was careworn and depressed.
Though he was young, there wasa remarkable expression in it now, a
kind of serious delight of which hefelt ashamed, and which he struggled to
repress. He sat down to thedinner that had been hoarding for him by
(25:38):
the fire, and when she askedhim faintly what news, which was not
until After a long silence, heappeared embarrassed. How to answer? Is
it good? She said, orbad? To help him bad? He
answered, we are quite ruined.No, there is hope yet, Caroline.
(26:08):
If he relents, she said,amazed, there is nothing is past
hope. If such a miracle hashappened, he's past relenting, said her
husband. He is dead. Shewas a mild, impatient creature if her
(26:30):
face spoke truth, but she wasthankful in her soul to hear it,
and said so with clasped hands.She prayed forgiveness the next moment, and
was sorry. But the first wasthe emotion of her heart. What the
half drunken woman whom I told youof last night said to me when I
(26:51):
tried to see him and obtain aweek's delay, and what I thought was
a mere excuse to avoid me,turns out to have been quite true.
He was not only very ill,but dying. Then to whom will our
debt be transferred? I don't know, But before that time we shall be
(27:11):
ready with the money. And eventhough we were not, it would be
a bad fortune, indeed, tofind so merciless a creditor in his successor.
We may sleep tonight with light hearts, Caroline, Yes, soften it
as they would. Their hearts werelighter. The children's faces hushed and clustered
(27:34):
round to hear what they so littleunderstood, were brighter, and it was
a happier house for this man's death. The only emotion that the ghost could
show him caused by the event wasone of pleasure. Let me see some
tenderness connected with death, said Scrooge, Or that dark chamber spirit which we
(28:00):
just left now will be forever presentto me. The ghosts conducted him through
several streets familiar to his feet,and as they went along, Scrooge looked
here and there to find himself,but nowhere was he to be seen.
They entered poor Bob Cratchett's house,the dwelling he had visited before, and
(28:23):
found the mother and the children seatedround the fire, quiet, very quiet.
The noisy little crotchets were still asstatues in one corner, and sat
looking up at Peter, who hada book before him. The mother and
(28:44):
her daughters were engaged in sewing,but surely they were very quiet, and
he took a child and set himin the midst of them. Where had
Scrooge heard those words. He hadnot dreamed them. The boy must have
(29:07):
read them out as he, inthe spirit crossed the threshold. Why did
he not go on? The motherlaid her work upon the table and put
her hands up to her face.The color hurts my eyes, she said,
the color. Ah, poor tinyTim. They're better now again,
(29:33):
said Cratchett's wife. It makes themweak by candlelight. I wouldn't show weak
eyes to your father when he comeshome for the world. It must be
near his time passed it rather,Peter answered, shutting up his book.
But I think he has walked alittle slower than he used these last few
(29:55):
evenings. Mother, they were veryquiet again at last, she said,
and in a steady, cheerful voicethat only faltered once. I have known
him to walk with I have knownhim to walk with tiny Tim upon his
shoulder, very fast, indeed,And so have I cried Peter often,
(30:21):
And so have I exclaimed another.So at all. But he was very
light to carry. She resumed,intent upon her words. And his father
loved him so that it was notrouble, no trouble. And there is
your father at the door. Shehurried out to meet him, and little
(30:42):
Bob in his comforter he had needof it. Poor fellow came in.
His tea was ready for him onthe hob, and they all tried who
should help him to it. Most. Then the two young Cratchets got upon
his knees and laid each child alittle cheek against his face, as if
(31:04):
they said, don't mind it,father, don't be grieved. Bob was
very cheerful with them, and spokepleasantly to all the family. He looked
at the work upon the table andpraised the industry in speed of missus Cratchett
and the girls. They would bedone long before Sunday, he said,
(31:27):
Sunday you went to day? Then, Robert said his wife. Yes,
my dear, returned Bob, Iwish you could have gone. It would
have done you good to see howgreen a place it is. But you'll
see it often. I promised himthat I would walk there on a Sunday.
My little little child, cried,Bob, my little child. He
(31:53):
broke down all at once. Hecouldn't help it. If he could have
helped it, he and his childwould have been farther apart than they were.
He left the room and went upstairsinto the room above, which was
lighted cheerfully and hung with Christmas.There was a chair set close beside the
(32:15):
child, and there were signs ofsome one having been there lately. Poor
Bob sat down in it, andwhen he had thought a little and composed
himself, he kissed the little face. He was reconciled to what had happened,
and went down again quite happy.They drew about the fire and talked,
(32:39):
the girls and mother working still.Bob told them of the extraordinary kindness
of mister Scrooge's nephew, whom hehad scarcely seen but once, and who
meeting him in the street that day, and seeing that he looked a little
just a little down, you know, said Bob, inquired what had happened
(33:01):
to distress him, on which,said Bob, for he's the pleasantest smoken
gentleman you have ever heard. Itold him. I am hardily sorry for
it, mister Cratchett, he said, and hardily sorry for your good wife.
By the bye. How he ever, knew that, I don't know
(33:23):
knew what, my dear, whythat you are a good wife, replied
Bob. Everybody knows that, saidPeter, very well, observed my boy,
cried Bob. I hope they do. Heartily Sorry, he said,
for your good wife. If Ican be of service to you in any
(33:44):
way, he said, giving mehis card, That's where I live.
Pray come to me now. Itwasn't, cried Bob, for the sake
of anything he might be able todo for us, so much as for
his kind way. That this wasquite delightful. It really seemed as if
he had known our tiny Tim andfelt with us. Well. I'm sure
(34:05):
he's a good soul, said missusCratchett. You would be sure of it,
my dear, returned Bob, ifyou saw and spoke to him,
I shouldn't be at all surprised.Mark what I say. If he got
Peter a better situation, only hearthat, Peter, said Missus Cratchett,
and then cried one of the girls. Peter will be keeping company with some
(34:28):
one and setting up for himself.Get along with you, retorted Peter,
grinning. It's just as likely asnot, said Bob. One of these
days, though. There's plenty oftime for that, my dear. But
however, and whenever we part fromone another, I am sure we shall
none of us forget poor tiny Tim. Shall we? Or this first parting
(34:52):
that there was among us. NeverFather, cried they all, And I
know, said Bob, I know, my DearS, that when we recollect,
how patient and mild he was,although he was little, the little
child, we shall not quarrel easilyamong ourselves and forget poor tiny Tim in
(35:15):
doing it. No, Never Father, they all cried again. I'm very
happy, said little Bob. Iam very happy. Missus Cratchett kissed him,
His daughters kissed him. The twoyoung Cratchets kissed him, and Peter
(35:36):
and himself shook hands. Spirit ofTiny Tim. Thy childish essence was from
God, specter, said Scrooge.Something informs me that our parting moment is
at hand. I know it,but I know not how tell me what
(35:57):
man that was whom we saw lyingdead? 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 resortsof business men, but showed him not
(36:19):
himself. Indeed, the spirit didnot stay for anything, but went straight
on as to the end, justnow desired, until besought by Scrooge to
tarry for a moment. This court, said Scrooge, through which we hurry,
now is where my place of occupationis, and has been for a
(36:42):
length of time. I see thehouse, Let me behold what I shall
be in days to come. TheSpirit stopped, the hand was pointed elsewhere.
The house is yonder. Scrooge exclaimed, why do you point away?
(37:06):
The inexorable finger underwent no change.Scrooge hastened to the window of his office
and looked in. It was anoffice, still, but not his.
The furniture was not the same,and the figure in the chair was not
himself. The phantom pointed as before. He joined it once again, and,
(37:30):
wondering why and whither he had gone, accompanied it until they reached an
iron gate. He paused to lookround before entering a churchyard. Here then
the wretched man, whose name hehad now to learn, lay underneath the
ground. It was a worthy place, walled in by houses, overrun by
(37:53):
grass and weeds, the growth ofvegetation's death, not life choked up with
too much burying fat, with repleatedappetite. A worthy place. The Spirit
stood among the graves and pointed downto one. He advanced towards it,
(38:15):
trembling, The phantom was exactly asit had been, but he dreaded that
he saw new meaning in its solemnshape. Before I draw nearer to that
stone to which you point, saidScrooge, Answer me one question. Are
(38:36):
these the shadows of the things thatwill be? Or are they shadows of
things that may be? Only?Still? The ghost pointed downward to the
grave by which it stood. Men'scourses will foreshadow certain ends to which,
(38:57):
if persevered in, they must lead, said Scrooge. But if the courses
be departed from the ends will change. Say it is thus with what you
show me. The spirit was immovableas ever. Scrooge crept towards it,
(39:23):
trembling as he went, and followingthe finger read upon the stone of the
neglected grave his own name, EbenezerScrooge, the last of the spirits?
(39:49):
Am I that man who lay uponthe bed? He cried upon his knees.
The finger pointed from the grave tohim and back again. No spirit,
Oh no, no, the fingerstill was there. Spirit? He
(40:10):
cried, tight clutching at its robe. Hear me, I am not the
man I was, I will notbe the man I must have been.
For this intercourse? Why show methis if I am past all hope.
For the first time, the handappeared to shake good spirit. He pursued
(40:36):
as down upon the ground he fellbefore it. Your nature intercedes for me
and pities me. Assure me thatI yet may change these shadows you have
shown me by an altered life.The kind hand trembled. I will honor
(41:01):
Christmas in my heart and try tokeep it all the year. I will
live in the past, the present, and the future. The spirits of
all three shall strive within me.I will not shut out the lessons that
they teach. Oh tell me,I may sponge away the writing on this
(41:25):
stone. In his agony, hecaught the spectral hand. It sought to
free itself, but he was strongin his entreaty and detained it. The
spirit stronger yet, repulsed him,holding up his hand in a last prayer
(41:46):
to have his fate reversed. Hesaw an alteration in the phantom's hood and
dress. It shrunk, collapsed,and dwindled down into a bed post.
End of Stave four
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