A Budget of Christmas Tales by Charles Dickens and Others
General
A Budget of Christmas Tales by Charles Dickens and Others
Christmas stories
After tea they had some music, Scrooge's niece played well; and played
among other tunes a simple little air (a mere nothing: you might learn
to whistle it in two minutes), which had been familiar to the child who
fetched Scrooge from the boarding-school, as he had been reminded by the
Ghost of Christmas Past. When this strain of music sounded, all the
things that the Ghost had shown him, came upon his mind; he softened
more and more; and thought that if he could have listened to it often,
years ago, he might have cultivated the kindnesses of life for his own
happiness with his own hands, without resorting to the sexton's spade
that buried Jacob Marley.
But they didn't devote the whole evening to music. After awhile they
played at forfeits; for it is good to be children sometimes, and never
better than at Christmas, when its mighty founder was a child himself.
Stop! There was first a glorious game at blindman's buff. Of course
there was. And I no more believe Topper was really blind than I believe
he had eyes in his boots. My opinion is, that it was a done thing
between him and Scrooge's nephew; and that the Ghost of Christmas
Present knew it. The way he went after that plump sister in the lace
tucker, was an outrage on the credulity of human nature. Knocking down
the fire-irons, tumbling over the chairs, bumping up against the piano,
smothering himself amongst the curtains, wherever she went, there went
he! He always knew where the plump sister was. He wouldn't catch anybody
else. If you had fallen up against him, (as some of them did) on
purpose, he would have made a feint of endeavoring to seize you, which
would have been an affront to your understanding, and would instantly
have sidled off in the direction of the plump sister. She often cried
out that it wasn't fair; and it really was not. But when at last, he
caught her; when, in spite of all her silken rustlings, and her rapid
flutterings past him, he got her into a corner whence there was no
escape; then his conduct was the most execrable. For his pretending not
to know her; his pretending that it was necessary to touch her
head-dress, and further to assure himself of her identity by pressing a
certain ring upon her finger, and a certain chain about her neck; was
vile, monstrous! No doubt she told him her opinion of it when, another
blind-man being in office, they were so very confidential together,
behind the curtains.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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