The Second of the Three Spirits
Awaking, Scrooge found himself in his bedroom. There was no doubt about that. He shuffled in his slippers to his sitting room, attracted by a great light there. It had undergone a surprising transformation. The walls and ceiling were so hung with living plants that it looked like a perfect forest. Heaped upon the floor to form a kind of throne were turkeys, geese, great pieces of meat, pigs, long wreaths of sausages, barrels of oysters, red-hot chestnuts, cherry-cheeked apples, juicy oranges, luscious pears, immense cakes, and great bowls of punch. There a glorious Giant sat with a glowing torch. The Giant raised the torch high to shed its light on Scrooge, as he came peeping round the door.
“Come in, come in! and know me better, man! I am the Ghost of Christmas Present.”
“Spirit, take me where you will. I went last night because I had to, and I learned a lesson which is working now. Tonight, if you have ought to teach me, let me profit by it.”
“Touch my robe!”
Scrooge did as he was told, and held it tightly. The room and its contents all vanished[1] instantly, and they stood in the city streets upon a snowy Christmas morning. Scrooge and the Ghost passed on, invisible, straight to the four-roomed house of Scrooge’s clerk, Bob Cratchit.
Cratchit’s wife laid the table cloth, assisted by Belinda Cratchit, second of her daughters, while Master Peter Cratchit plunged a fork into the saucepan of potatoes. And now two smaller Cratchits, boy and girl, came tearing in, screaming that they had smelled the goose.
“What has ever got your precious father then?” said Mrs. Cratchit. “And your brother Tiny Tim! And Martha wasn’t this late last Christmas day!”
“Here’s Martha, mother!” said a girl, appearing as she spoke.
“Here’s Martha, mother!” cried the two young Cratchits. “Hurrah!
“We had a great deal of work to finish up last night,” replied the girl.
“Well! Never mind so long as you are here,” said Mrs. Cratchit. “Sit by the fire, my dear, and warm up!”
“No! Father is coming,” cried the two young Cratchits, who were everywhere at once. “Hide, Martha!”
So Martha hid herself, and in came Bob, the father, with Tiny Tim upon his shoulder. Alas for Tiny Tim, he carried a little crutch, and had his limbs supported by an iron frame!
“Why, where’s our Martha?” cried Bob Cratchit, looking around.
“Not coming,” said Mrs. Cratchit.
“Not coming!” said Bob, suddenly sad,”not coming upon Christmas day!”
Martha didn’t like to see him disappointed, even if it were only in joke; so she came out prematurely from behind the closet door, and ran into his arms.
“And how did little Tim behave?” asked Mrs. Cratchit.
“As good as gold,” said Bob.
Mrs. Cratchit made the gravy; Master Peter mashed the potatoes with incredible vigor; Miss Belinda sweetened up the applesauce; Martha dusted the hot plates; Bob took Tiny Tim beside him in a tiny corner at the table; the two young Cratchits set chairs for everybody.
Then all the Cratchit family drew rou