The Chimes: A Goblin Story of Some Bells That Rang an Old Year out and a New Year InDickens, Charles
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The Chimes: A Goblin Story of Some Bells That Rang an Old Year out and a New Year In
Dickens, Charles
Christmas stories; Holidays -- Fiction
He saw these creatures, not only among sleeping men but waking also,
active in pursuits irreconcilable with one another, and possessing or
assuming natures the most opposite. He saw one buckling on innumerable
wings to increase his speed; another loading himself with chains and
weights, to retard his. He saw some putting the hands of clocks forward,
some putting the hands of clocks backward, some endeavouring to stop the
clock entirely. He saw them representing, here a marriage ceremony,
there a funeral; in this chamber an election, in that a ball he saw,
everywhere, restless and untiring motion.
Bewildered by the host of shifting and extraordinary figures, as well as
by the uproar of the Bells, which all this while were ringing, Trotty
clung to a wooden pillar for support, and turned his white face here and
there, in mute and stunned astonishment.
As he gazed, the Chimes stopped. Instantaneous change! The whole swarm
fainted! their forms collapsed, their speed deserted them; they sought to
fly, but in the act of falling died and melted into air. No fresh supply
succeeded them. One straggler leaped down pretty briskly from the
surface of the Great Bell, and alighted on his feet, but he was dead and
gone before he could turn round. Some few of the late company who had
gambolled in the tower, remained there, spinning over and over a little
longer; but these became at every turn more faint, and few, and feeble,
and soon went the way of the rest. The last of all was one small
hunchback, who had got into an echoing corner, where he twirled and
twirled, and floated by himself a long time; showing such perseverance,
that at last he dwindled to a leg and even to a foot, before he finally
retired; but he vanished in the end, and then the tower was silent.
Then and not before, did Trotty see in every Bell a bearded figure of the
bulk and stature of the Bell—incomprehensibly, a figure and the Bell
itself. Gigantic, grave, and darkly watchful of him, as he stood rooted
to the ground.
Mysterious and awful figures! Resting on nothing; poised in the night
air of the tower, with their draped and hooded heads merged in the dim
roof; motionless and shadowy. Shadowy and dark, although he saw them by
some light belonging to themselves—none else was there—each with its
muffled hand upon its goblin mouth.
He could not plunge down wildly through the opening in the floor; for all
power of motion had deserted him. Otherwise he would have done so—aye,
would have thrown himself, headforemost, from the steeple-top, rather
than have seen them watching him with eyes that would have waked and
watched although the pupils had been taken out.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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