Christmas Carol 40 recto

40

the Feast!”

“The Founder of the Feast indeed!” cried Mrs. Cratchit, reddening. “I wish I had him here. I’d
give him a piece of my mind to feast upon, and I [bet he?]hope he’d have a good
appetite for it.”

“My dear,” said Bob—”the children—Christmas Day.”

“>??? It ???? should be Christmas Day, I['m ????] am sure,” said she, “on which one drinks the
health of such an odious, stingy, hard, unfeeling man as Mr Scrooge. You know
he is, Robert! Nobody knows it better than you do, poor fellow.”

“My dear,” was Bob’s mild answer. “Christmas Day.”

“I’ll drink his health for your sake and the Day’s,” said Mrs. Cratchit, “not for
his. [???] Long life to him! A Merry Christmas and a happy New Year!—he’ll be very merry and me very happy I
have no doubt!”

The children drank the toast after her. It was the first of their proceedings which
had no heartiness is heartiness in it. Tiny Tim drank it last all of all, but he didn’t care two-
pence for Scrooge it. He Scrooge was the ogre of the family. The mention of his name [d???] cast a
dark shadow on the [group] party which it [?????] was not dispelled for full five minutes.

After it had passed away though, they were ten times merrier than before, from
the mere relief of Scrooge the bBaleful being done with for the time. Bob Cratchit
told them how he had a situation in his eye for Master Peter, which would bring
in, if obtained, full five and sixpence weekly. Robert and [Belinda] The two young Cratchits
laughed tremendously at the idea of Peter’s being a man of business; and Peter
himself looked thoughtfully at the fire from between his collars, [a?] as if he were delibe-
rating what particular investments he should favor, if he [could if he ???] when he came into the
[???]coming into the receipt of that bewildering Income. Martha, who was
a poor apprentice at a milliners then told them what kind of work
she had to do, and how many hours she worked at a stretch, and
how she meant to lie abed tomorrow morning for a good
long rest—tomorrow being a holiday she passed at home. Also, how she had seen a
Countess and a Lord some days before, and how the Lord “was much about as
tall as Peter”; at which Peter pulled up his collars so high, that you couldn’t
have seen his head if you had been there. All this time the chestnuts and the jug
went round and round; and bye and bye they had asong, about a lost child travelling in the snow, from Tiny Tim, who had a
plaintive little voice, and sang it very well indeed.

There was nothing of high mark in this; they were not a
handsome family; they were not well dressed; their shoes were far
from being waterproof; their clothes were scant; and Peter might
have known, and very likely did, the inside of a Pawnbroker’s. But
they were happy, grateful, pleased with one another, and contented
with the time; and when they faded, and looked happier yet in the bright