When Scrooge awoke, it was so dark, that looking out of bed,he could scarcely distinguish the transparent window from theopaque walls of his chamber. He was endeavouring to pierce thedarkness with his ferret eyes, when the chimes of aneighbouring church struck the four quarters. So he listenedfor the hour.

To his great astonishment the heavy bell went on from six toseven, and from seven to eight, and regularly up to twelve;then stopped. Twelve! It was past two when he went to bed. The clock was wrong. An icicle must have got into the works. Twelve!

He touched the spring of his repeater, to correctthis most preposterous clock. Its rapid little pulse beattwelve: and stopped.

``Why, it isn't possible,'' said Scrooge, ``that I canhave slept through a whole day and far into another night. Itisn't possible that anything has happened to the sun, and thisis twelve at noon!''

The idea being an alarming one, he scrambled out of bed, andgroped his way to the window. He was obliged to rub the frostoff with the sleeve of his dressing-gown before he could seeanything; and could see very little then. All he could makeout was, that it was still very foggy and extremely cold, andthat there was no noise of people running to and fro, andmaking a great stir, as there unquestionably would have been ifnight had beaten off bright day, and taken possession of theworld. This was a great relief, because ``three days aftersight of this First of Exchange pay to Mr. Ebenezer Scrooge orhis order,'' and so forth, would have become a mereUnited States' security if there were no days to count by.

Scrooge went to be again, and thought, and 1thought, and thought it over and over, and could make nothingof it. The more he thought, the more perplexed he was; and themore he endeavoured not to think, the more he thought Marley'sGhost bothered him exceedingly. Every time he resolved withinhimself, after mature inquiry, that it was all a dream, hismind flew back, like a strong spring released, to its firstposition, and presented the same problem to be worked allthrough, ``Was it a dream or not?''

Scrooge lay in this state until the chime had gone threequarters more, when he remembered, on a sudden, that the Ghosthad warned him of a visitation when the bell tolled one. Heresolved to lie awake until the hour was past; and, consideringthat he could no more go to sleep than go to Heaven, this wasperhaps the wisest resolution in his power.

The quarter was so long, that he was more than onceconvinced he must have sunk into a doze unconsciously, andmissed the clock. At length it broke upon his listening ear.

``Ding, dong!''

``A quarter past,'' said Scrooge, counting.

``Ding, dong!''

``Half past!'' said Scrooge.

``Ding, dong!''

``A quarter to it,'' said Scrooge.

``Ding, dong!''

``The hour itself,'' said Scrooge, triumphantly, ``andnothing else!''

He spoke before the hour bell sounded, which it now did witha deep, dull, hollow, melancholy ONE. Light flashed up in theroom upon the instant, and the curtains of his bed were drawn.

The curtains of his bed were drawn aside, I tell you, by ahand. Not the curtains at his feet, nor the curtains at hisback, but those to which his face was addressed. The curtainsof his bed were drawn aside; and Scrooge, starting up into ahalf-recumbent attitude, found himself face to face with theunearthly visitor who drew them: as close to it as I am now toyou, and I am standing in the spirit at your elbow.

It was a strange figure -- like a child: yet not solike a child as like an old man, viewed through somesupernatural medium, which gave him the appearance of havingreceded from the view, and being diminished to a child'sproportions. Its hair, which hung about its neck and down itsback, was white as if with age; and yet the face had not awrinkle in it, and the tenderest bloom was on the skin. Thearms were very long and muscular; the hands the same, as if itshold were of uncommon strength. Its legs and feet, mostdelicately formed, were, like those upper members, bare. Itwore a tunic of the purest white and round its waist was bounda lustrous belt, the sheen of which was beautiful. It held abranch of fresh green holly in its hand; and, in singularcontradiction of that wintry emblem, had its dress trimmed withsummer flowers. But the strangest thing about it was, thatfrom the crown of its head there sprung a bright clear jet oflight, by which all this was visible; and which was doubtlessthe occasion of its using, in its duller moments, agreat extinguisher for a cap, which it now held under its arm.

Even this, though, when Scrooge looked at it with increasingsteadiness, was

``Are you the Spirit, sir, whose coming was foretold tome?'' asked Scrooge.

``I am!''

The voice was soft and gentle. Singularly low, as ifinstead of being so close beside him, it were at a distance.

``Who, and what are you?'' Scrooge demanded.

``I am the Ghost of Christmas Past.''

``Long past?'' inquired Scrooge: observant of itsdwarfish stature.

``No. Your past.''

Perhaps, Scrooge could not have told anybody why, if anybodycould have asked him; but he had a special desire to see theSpirit in his cap; and begged him to be covered.

``What!'' exclaimed the Ghost, ``would you so soon putout, with worldly hands, the light I give? Is it not enoughthat you are one of those whose passions made this cap, andforce me through whole trains of years to wear it low upon mybrow!''

Scrooge reverently disclaimed all intention to offend or anyknowledge of having wilfully

``Your welfare!'' said the Ghost.

Scrooge expressed himself much obliged, but could not helpthinking that a night of unbroken rest would have been moreconducive to that end. The Spirit must have heardhim thinking, for it said immediately:

``Your reclamation, then. Take heed!''

It put out its strong hand as it spoke, and clasped himgently by the arm.

``Rise! and walk with me!''

It would have been in vain for Scrooge to plead that theweather and the hour were not adapted to pedestrian purposes;that bed was warm, and the thermometer a long way belowfreezing; that he was clad but lightly in his slippers,dressing-gown, and nightcap; and that he had a cold upon him atthat time. The grasp, though gentle as a woman's hand, was notto be resisted. He rose: but finding that the Spirit madetowards the window, clasped his robe in supplication.

``I am mortal,'' Scrooge remonstrated, ``and liable tofall.''

``Bear but a touch of my hand

As the words were spoken, they passed through thewall, and stood upon an open country road, with fields oneither hand. The city had entirely vanished. Not a vestige ofit was to be seen. The darkness and the mist had vanished withit, for it was a clear, cold, winter day, with snow upon theground.``Good Heaven!'' said Scrooge, clasping his hands together,as he looked about him. ``I was bred in this place. I wasa boy here!''

The Spirit gazed upon him mildly. Its gentle touch, thoughit had been light and instantaneous, appeared still present tothe old man's sense of feeling. He was conscious of a thousandodours floating in the air, each one connected with a thousandthoughts, and hopes, and joys, and cares long, long, forgotten.

``Your lip is trembling,'' said the Ghost. ``And whatis that upon your cheek?''

Scrooge muttered, with an unusual catching in his voice,that it was a pimple; and begged the Ghost to lead him where hewould.

``You recollect the way?'' inquired the Spirit.

``Remember it!'' cried Scrooge with fervour; ``I couldwalk it blindfold.''

``Strange to have forgotten it for so many years!''observed the Ghost. ``Let us go on.''

They walked along the road; Scrooge recognising every gate,and post, and tree; until a little market-town appeared in thedistance, with its bridge, its church, and winding river. Someshaggy ponies now were seen trotting towards them with boysupon their backs, who called to other boys in country gigs andcarts, driven by farmers. All these boys were in greatspirits, and shouted to each other, until the broad fields wereso full of merry music, that the crisp air laughed to hear it.

``These are but shadows of the things that have been,''said the Ghost. ``They have no consciousness of us.''

The jocund travellers came on; and as they came, Scroogeknew and named them every one. Why was he rejoiced beyond allbounds to see them! Why did his cold eye glisten, and hisheart leap up as they went past! Why was he filled withgladness when he heard them give each other MerryChristmas, as they parted at cross-roads and bye-ways, fortheir several homes! What was merry Christmas to Scrooge? Outupon merry Christmas! What good had it ever done to him?

``The school is not quite deserted,'' said the Ghost. ``A solitary child, neglected by his friends, is left therestill.''

Scrooge said he knew it. And he sobbed.

They left the high-road, by a well-remembered lane, and soonapproached a mansion of dull red brick, with a littleweathercock-surmounted cupola, on the roof, and a bell hangingin it. It was a large house, but one of broken fortunes; forthe spacious offices were little used, their walls were dampand mossy, their windows broken, and their gates decayed. Fowls clucked and strutted in the stables; and the coach-housesand sheds were over-run with grass. Nor was it more retentiveof its ancient state, within; for entering the dreary hall, andglancing through the open doors of many rooms, they found thempoorly furnished, cold, and vast. There was anearthy savour in the air, a chilly bareness in the place, whichassociated itself somehow with too much getting up bycandle-light, and not too much to eat.

They went, the Ghost and Scrooge, across the hall, to a doorat the back of the house. It opened before them, and discloseda long, bare, melancholy room, made barer still by lines ofplain deal forms and desks. At one of these a lonely boy wasreading near a feeble fire; and Scrooge sat down upon a form,and wept to see his poor forgotten self as he used to be.

Not a latent echo in the house, not a squeak and scufflefrom the mice behind the panneling, not a drip from thehalf-thawed water-spout in the dull yard behind, not a sighamong the leafless boughs of one despondent poplar, not theidle swinging of an empty store-house door, no, not a clickingin the fire, but fell upon the heart of Scrooge with asoftening influence, and gave a freer passage to his tears.

The Spirit touched him on the arm, and pointed to hisyounger self, intent upon his reading. Suddenly aman, in foreign garments: wonderfully real and distinct to lookat: stood outside the window, with an axe stuck in his belt,and leading an ass laden with wood by the bridle.

``Why, it's Ali Baba! '' Scrooge exclaimed in ecstasy. ``It's dear old honest Ali Baba! Yes, yes, I know! OneChristmas time, when yonder solitary child was left here allalone, he

To hear Scrooge expending all the earnestness of his natureon such subjects, in a most extraordinary voice betweenlaughing and crying; and to see his heightened and excitedface; would have been a surprise to his business friends in thecity, indeed.

``There's the Parrot!'' cried Scrooge. ``Green body andyellow tail, with a thing like a lettuce growing out of the topof his head; there he is! Poor Robin Crusoe, he called him,when he came home again after sailing round the island. ``Poor Robin Crusoe, where have you been, Robin Crusoe?'' The man thought he was dreaming, but he wasn't. It was theParrot, you know. There goes Friday, running for his life tothe little creek! Halloa! Hoop! Halloo!''

Then, with a rapidity of transition very foreign to hisusual character, he said, in pity for his former self, ``Poorboy!'' and cried again.

``I wish,'' Scrooge muttered, putting his hand in hispocket, and looking about him, after drying his eyes with hiscuff: ``but it's too late now.''

``What is the matter?'' asked the Spirit.

``Nothing,'' said Scrooge. ``Nothing. There was a boysinging a Christmas Carol at my door last night. I should liketo have given him something: that's all.''

The Ghost smiled thoughtfully, and waved itshand: saying as it did so, ``Let us see another Christmas!''

Scrooge's former self grew larger at the words, and the roombecame a little darker and more dirty. The panels shrunk, thewindows cracked; fragments of plaster fell out of the ceiling,and the naked laths were shown instead; but how all this wasbrought about, Scrooge knew no more than you do. He only knewthat it was quite correct; that everything had happened so;that there he was, alone again, when all the other boys hadgone home for the jolly holidays.

He was not reading now, but walking up and downdespairingly. Scrooge looked at the Ghost, and with a mournfulshaking of his head, glanced anxiously towards the door.

It opened; and a little girl, much younger than the boy,came darting in, and putting her arms about his neck, and oftenkissing him, addressed him as her ``Dear, dear brother.''

``I have come to bring you home, dear brother!'' said thechild, clapping her tiny hands, and bending down tolaugh.``To bring you home, home, home!''

``Home, little Fan?'' returned the boy.

``Yes!'' said the child, brimful of glee. ``Home, forgood and all. Home, for ever and ever. Father is so muchkinder than he used to be, that home's like Heaven! He spokeso gently to me one dear night when I was going to bed, that Iwas not afraid to ask him once more if you might come home; andhe said Yes, you should; and sent me in a coach to bring you. And you're to be a man!'' said the child, opening her eyes,``and are never to come back here; but first, we're to betogether all the Christmas long, and have the merriest time inall the world.''

``You are quite a woman, little Fan!'' exclaimed the boy.

She clapped her hands and laughed, and tried to touch hishead; but being too little, laughed again, and stood on tiptoeto embrace him.Then she began to drag him, in her childish eagerness, towards thedoor; and he, nothing loth to go, accompanied her.

A terrible voice in the hall cried. ``Bring down MasterScrooge's box, there! '' and in the hall appeared theschoolmaster himself, who glared on Master Scrooge with aferocious condescension, and threw him into a dreadful state ofmind by shaking hands with him. He then conveyed him and hissister into the veriest old well of a shivering best-parlourthat ever was seen, where the maps upon the wall, and thecelestial and terrestrial globes in the windows, were waxy withcold. Here he produced a decanter of curiously light wine, anda block of curiously heavy cake, and administered instalmentsof those dainties to the young people: at the same time,sending out a meagre servant to offer a glass of

``Always a delicate creature, whom a breath might havewithered,'' said the Ghost. ``But she had a largeheart!''

``So she had,'' cried Scrooge. ``You're right, I willnot gainsay it, Spirit. God forbid!''

``She died a woman,'' said the Ghost, ``and had, as Ithink, children.''

``One child,'' Scrooge returned.

``True,'' said the Ghost. ``Your nephew!''

Scrooge seemed uneasy in his mind; and answered briefly,``Yes.''

Although they had but that moment left the school behindthem, they were now in the busy thoroughfares of a city, whereshadowy passengers passed and repassed; where shadowy carts andcoaches battle for the way, and all the strife and tumult of areal city were. It was made plain enough, by the dressing ofthe shops, that here too it was Christmas time again; but itwas evening, and the streets were lighted up.

The Ghost stopped at a certain warehouse door, and askedScrooge if he knew it.

``Know it!'' said Scrooge. ``Was I apprenticedhere!''

They went in. At sight of an old gentleman in a Welch wig,sitting behind such a high desk, that if he had been two inchestaller he must have knocked his head against the ceiling,Scrooge cried in great excitement:

``Why, it's old Fezziwig! Bless his heart; it's Fezziwigalive again!''

Old Fezziwig laid down his pen, and looked up at the clock,which pointed to the hour of seven. He rubbed his hands;adjusted his capacious waistcoat; laughed all over himself,from his shows to his organ of benevolence; and called out in acomfortable, oily, rich, fat, jovial voice:

``Yo ho, there! Ebenezer! Dick!''

Scrooge's former self, now grown a young man, came brisklyin, accompanied by his fellow-'prentice.

``Dick Wilkins, to be sure!'' said Scrooge to the Ghost.``Bless me, yes. There he is. He was very much attachedto me, was Dick. Poor Dick! Dear, dear!''

``Yo ho, my boys!'' said Fezziwig. ``No more workto-night. Christmas Eve, Dick. Christmas, Ebenezer! Let'shave the shutters up,'' cried old Fezziwig, with a sharp clapof his hands, ``before a man can say, Jack Robinson!''

You wouldn't believe how those two fellows went at it! Theycharged into the street with the shutters -- one, two,three -- had 'em up in their places -- four, five,six -- barred 'em and pinned 'em -- seven, eight,nine -- and came back before you could have got to twelve,panting like race-horses.

``Hilli-ho!'' cried old Fezziwig, skipping down from thehigh desk, with wonderful agility. ``Clear away, my lads, andlet's have lots of room here! Hilli-ho, Dick! Chirrup,Ebenezer!''

Clear away! There was nothing they wouldn't have clearedaway, or couldn't have cleared away, with old Fezziwig lookingon. It was done in a minute. Every movable was packed off, asif it were dismissed from public life for evermore; the

In came a fiddler with a music-book, and went up to thelofty desk, and made an orchestra of it, and tuned like fiftystomach-aches. In came Mrs. Fezziwig, one vast substantialsmile. In came the three Miss Fezziwigs, beaming and lovable. In came the six young followers whose hearts they broke. Incame all the young men and women employed in the business. Incame the housemaid, with her cousin, the baker. In came thecook, with her brother's particular friend, the milkman. Incame the boy from over the way, who was suspected of not havingboard enough from his master; trying to hide himself behind thegirl from next door but one, who was proved to have had herears pulled by her Mistress. In they all came, one afternother; some shyly, some boldly, some gracefully, someawkwardly, some pushing, some pulling; in they allcame, anyhow and everyhow. Away they all went, twenty coupleat once; hands half round and back again the other way; downthe middle and up again; round and round in various stages ofaffectionate grouping; old top couple always turning up in thewrong place; new top couple starting off again, as soon as theygot there; all top couples at last, and not a bottom one tohelp them. When this result was brought about, old Fezziwig,clapping his hands to stop the dance, cried out, ``Welldone!'' and the fiddler plunged his hot face into a pot ofporter, especially provided for that purpose. But scorningrest, upon his reappearance, he instantly began again, thoughthere were no dancers yet, as if the other fiddler had beencarried home, exhausted, on a shutter, and he were a bran-newman resolved to beat him out of sight, or perish.

There were more dances, and there were forfeits, and moredances, and there was cake, and there was negus, and there wasa great piece of Cold Roast, and there was a great piece ofCold Boiled, and there were mince-pies, and plenty of beer.But the great effect of the evening came after theRoast and Boiled, when the fiddler (an artful dog, mind! Thesort of man who knew his business better than you or I couldhave told it him!) struck up ``Sir Roger de Coverley.'' Then old Fezziwig stood out to dance with Mrs. Fezziwig. Topcouple, too; with a good stiff piece of work cut out for them;three or four and twenty pair of partners; people who were notto be trifled with; people who

But if they had been twice as many: ah, four times: oldFezziwig would have been a match for them, and so would Mrs.Fezziwig. As to

When the clock struck eleven, this domestic ball broke up.Mr and Mrs Fezziwig took their stations, one on either side ofthe door, and shaking hands with every person individually ashe or she went out, wished him or her a Merry Christmas. Wheneverybody had retired but the two 'prentices, they did the sameto them; and thus the cheerful voices died away, and the ladswere left to their beds; which were under a counter in theback-shop.

During the whole of this time, Scrooge had acted like a manout of his wits. His heart and soul were in the scene, andwith his former self. He corroborated everything, rememberedeverything, enjoyed everything, and underwent the strangestagitation. It was not until now, when the bright faces of hisformer self and Dick were turned from them, that he rememberedthe Ghost, and became conscious that it was looking fullupon him, while the light upon its head burnt veryclear.

``A small matter,'' said the Ghost, ``to make thesesilly folks so full of gratitude.''

``Small!'' echoed Scrooge.

The Spirit signed to him to listen to the two apprentices,who were pouring out their hearts in praise of Fezziwig: andwhen he had done so, said,

``Why! Is it not? He has spent but a few pounds of yourmortal money: three or four perhaps. Is that so much that hedeserves this praise?''

``It isn't that,'' said Scrooge, heated by the remark,and speaking unconsciously like his former, not his latter,self.``It isn't that, Spirit. He has the power to render us happyor unhappy; to make our service light or burdensome; apleasure or a toil. Say that his power lies in words andlooks; in things so slight and insignificant that it is impossibleto add and count 'em up: what then? The happinesshe gives, is quite as great as if it cost a fortune.''

He felt the Spirit's glance, and stopped.

``What is the matter?'' asked the Ghost.

``Nothing particular,'' said Scrooge.

``Something, I think?'' the Ghost insisted.

``No,'' said Scrooge, ``No. I should like to be able tosay a word or two to my clerk just now! That's all.''

His former self turned down the lamps as he gave utteranceto the wish; and Scrooge and the Ghost again stood side by sidein the open air.

``My time grows short,'' observed the Spirit. ``Quick!''

This was not addressed to Scrooge, or to any one whom hecould see, but it produced an immediate effect. For againScrooge saw himself. He was older now; a man in the prime oflife. His face had not the harsh and rigid lines of lateryears; but it had begun to wear the signs of care and avarice.There was an eager, greedy, restless motion in the eye, whichshowed the passion that had taken root, and where the shadow ofthe growing tree would fall.

He was not alone, but sat by the side of a fair young girlin a mourning-dress: in whose eyes there were tears, whichsparkled in the light that shone out of the Ghost of ChristmasPast.

``It matters little,'' she said, softly. ``To you, verylittle. Another idol has displaced me; and if it can cheer andcomfort you in time to come, as I would have tried to do, Ihave no just cause to grieve.''

``What Idol has displaced you?'' he rejoined.

``A golden one.''

``This is the even-handed dealing of the world!'' hesaid.``There is nothing on which it is so hard as poverty; andthere is nothing it professes to condemn with such severityas the pursuit of wealth!''

``You fear the world too much,'' she answered, gently.``All your other hopes have merged into the hope of beingbeyond the chance of its sordid reproach. I have seen yournobler aspirations fall off one by one, until the master-passion,Gain, engrosses you. Have I not?''

``What then?'' he retorted. ``Even if I have grown somuch wiser, what then? I am not changed towards you.''

She shook her head.

``Am I?''

``Our contract is an old one. It was made when we wereboth poor and content to be so, until, in good season, we couldimprove our worldly fortune by our patient industry. You

``I was a boy,'' he said impatiently.

``Your own feeling tells you that you were not what youare,'' she returned. ``I am. That which promised happinesswhen we were one in heart, is fraught with misery now that weare two. How often and how keenly I have thought of this, Iwill not say. It is enough that I

``Have I ever sought release?''

``In words. No. Never.''

``In what, then?''

``In a changed nature; in an altered spirit; in anotheratmosphere of life; another Hope as its great end. Ineverything that made my love of any worth or value in yoursight. If this had never been between us,'' said the girl,looking mildly, but with steadiness, upon him;``tell me, would you seek me out and try to win me now? Ah,no!''

He seemed to yield to the justice of this supposition, inspite of himself. But he said with a struggle, ``You thinknot.''

``I would gladly think otherwise if I could,'' sheanswered,``Heaven knows! When

He was about to speak; but with her head turned from him,she resumed.

``You may -- the memory of what is past half makes mehope you will -- have pain in this. A very, very brieftime, and you will dismiss the recollection of it, gladly, asan unprofitable dream, from which it happened wellthat you awoke. May you be happy in the life you havechosen!''

She left him, and they parted.

``Spirit!'' said Scrooge, ``show me no more! Conduct mehome.Why do you delight to torture me?''

``One shadow more!'' exclaimed the Ghost.

``No more!'' cried Scrooge. ``No more. I don't wish tosee it. Show me no more!''

But the relentless Ghost pinioned him in both his arms, andforced him to observe what happened next.

They were in another scene and place; a room, not very largeor handsome, but full of comfort. Near to the winter fire sata beautiful young girl, so like that last that Scrooge believedit was the same, until he saw

But now a knocking at the door was heard, and such a rushimmediately ensued that she with laughing face and plundereddress was borne towards it the centre of a flushed andboisterous group, just in time to greet the father, who camehome attended by a man laden with Christmas toys and presents. Then the shouting and the struggling, and the onslaught thatwas made on the defenceless porter! The scaling him, withchairs for ladders, to dive into his pockets, despoil him ofbrown-paper parcels, hold on tight by his cravat, hug him roundthe neck, pommel his back, and kick his legs in irrepressibleaffection! The shouts of wonder and delight with which thedevelopment of every package was received! The terribleannouncement that the baby had been taken in the act of puttinga doll's frying-pan into his mouth, and was more than suspectedof having swallowed a fictitious turkey, glued on a woodenplatter! The immense relief of finding this a false alarm! Thejoy, and gratitude, and ecstasy! They are all indescribablealike. It is enough that by degrees the children and theiremotions got out of the parlour, and by one stair at a time, upto the top of the house; where they went to bed, andso subsided.

And now Scrooge looked on more attentively than ever, whenthe master of the house, having his daughter leaning fondly onhim, sat down with her and her mother at his own fireside; andwhen he thought that such another creature, quite as gracefuland as full of promise, might have called him father, and beena spring-time in the haggard winter of his life, his sight grewvery dim indeed.

``Belle,'' said the husband, turning to his wife with asmile, ``I saw an old friend of yours this afternoon.''

``Who was it?''

``Guess!''

``How can I? Tut, don't I know.'' she added in the samebreath, laughing as he laughed. ``Mr Scrooge.''

``Mr Scrooge it was. I passed his office window; and as itwas not shut up, and he had a candle inside, I could scarcelyhelp seeing him. His partner lies upon the point of death, Ihear; and there he sat alone. Quite alone in the world, I dobelieve.''

``Spirit!'' said Scrooge in a broken voice, ``remove mefrom this place.''

``I told you these were shadows of the things that havebeen,'' said the Ghost. ``That they are what they are, donot blame me!''

``Remove me!'' Scrooge exclaimed, ``I cannot bearit!''

He turned upon the Ghost, and seeing that it looked upon himwith a face, in which in some strange way there were fragmentsof all the faces it had shown him, wrestled with it.

``Leave me! Take me back. Haunt me no longer!''

In the struggle, if that can be called a struggle in whichthe Ghost with no visible resistance on its own part wasundisturbed by any effort of its adversary, Scrooge observedthat its light was burning high and bright; and dimlyconnecting that with its influence over him, he seized theextinguisher-cap, and by a sudden action pressed it down uponits head.

The Spirit dropped beneath it, so that the extinguishercovered its whole form; but though Scrooge pressed it down withall his force, he could not hide the light, whichstreamed from under it, in an unbroken flood upon the ground.

He was conscious of being exhausted, and overcome by anirresistible drowsiness; and, further, of being in his ownbedroom. He gave the cap a parting squeeze, in which his handrelaxed; and had barely time to reel to bed, before he sankinto a heavy sleep.