STAVE III: THE SECOND OF THE THREE SPIRITS

It was his own room. There was no doubt about that. But it had changed completely. The walls and ceiling were covered with fresh green leaves, so that the room looked like a little forest. Bright berries shone everywhere. Shiny holly leaves and other Christmas plants shone in the light like hundreds of tiny mirrors. A huge fire was roaring up the chimney. There had never been such a fire in that cold fireplace in Scrooge's time, or in Marley's, or for many winters before.

On the floor there was a great pile of Christmas food, as high as a king's chair. There were turkeys, geese, and other birds, and great pieces of meat and young pigs. There were long chains of sausages, sweet pies, and Christmas puddings. There was seafood, and there were hot roasted nuts, red apples, juicy oranges, and sweet pears. There were huge cakes, and there were bowls of a hot, sweet drink, which filled the room with delicious steam.

On top of this pile, very comfortable, sat a happy, friendly Giant. He was wonderful to look at. In his hand was a glowing torch, shaped like a horn. As Scrooge looked nervously round the door, the Giant held the torch up high so that its light shone on him.

"Come in!" cried the Ghost. "Come in, and know me better, man!"

Scrooge came in shyly and hung his head in front of the Spirit. He was no longer the hard, proud Scrooge of the past. The Spirit's eyes were clear and kind, but Scrooge did not like to meet them.

"I am the Ghost of Christmas Present," said the Spirit. "Look at me!"

Scrooge looked at him with respect. The Spirit was wearing one simple green robe with a border of white fur. It hung so loosely on him that his broad chest was bare, as if he did not care to hide it. Under the robe his feet were bare too. On his head he wore only a crown of holly leaves with little pieces of shining ice here and there. His long, dark brown hair hung free. It was as free as his friendly face, his sparkling eyes, his open hand, his cheerful voice, and his happy manner. Around his waist there was an old sword case. But there was no sword in it, and the old metal case was falling to pieces.

"You have never seen anyone like me before!" said the Spirit.

"Never," answered Scrooge.

"You have never walked out with the younger members of my family? I mean my older brothers, who were born in the last few years. I am very young myself."

"I don't think I have," said Scrooge. "I'm afraid I haven't. Have you had many brothers, Spirit?"

"More than eighteen hundred," said the Ghost. Each brother was the spirit of one Christmas in the past.

"What a huge family to feed!" said Scrooge quietly.

The Ghost of Christmas Present stood up.

"Spirit," said Scrooge softly, with his head down, "take me wherever you want. Last night I went with the other Spirit because I had to. I learned a lesson, and that lesson is working in me now. Tonight, if you have something to teach me, let me learn from it."

"Touch my robe!"

Scrooge did as he was told and held it tightly.

At once the green leaves and the holly disappeared. So did the turkeys, the geese, the sausages, the pies, the puddings, the fruit, and the hot drinks. The room, the fire, the red light, and the night all disappeared too. Now they stood in the city streets on Christmas morning. The weather was very cold. People were clearing the snow from the sidewalks in front of their houses and from their roofs. Their shovels made a rough kind of music, which was quick and quite nice to hear. The boys loved to watch the snow fall from the roofs down into the road.

The fronts of the houses looked black, and the windows looked even blacker. Above them was the smooth white snow on the roofs. On the ground the snow was dirty. The heavy wheels of carts had cut it into deep lines, which crossed each other hundreds of times. They were full of thick yellow mud and icy water. The sky was gloomy, and the narrow streets were full of a dirty mist. Black bits of dirt from the chimneys fell from it. It looked like every chimney in Britain was on fire. There was nothing very cheerful about the weather or the town. And yet there was a cheerfulness in the air that even the clearest summer air and the brightest summer sun could not bring.

The people who were shoveling snow on the roofs were happy and full of fun. They called out to each other, and now and then they threw a snowball. They laughed loudly when it hit, and they laughed just as loudly when it missed. The fruit shops were shining with color. There were great round baskets of chestnuts at the doors. There were big brown Spanish onions, shining and fat. There were pears and apples in tall piles, and bunches of grapes hanging from hooks that made people hungry as they passed. There were piles of brown nuts with the smell of the woods in autumn. There were oranges and lemons, and there were dark red apples that looked so good that people wanted to take them home. Even the goldfish in their bowl seemed to know that something special was happening.

And the grocers' shops! They were nearly closed, but through the gaps you could see wonderful things. The scales made a happy sound on the counter, and the metal boxes made a loud noise as the grocer moved them. The smells of tea and coffee were delicious. There were plenty of raisins, very white almonds, and wonderful spices. There were soft, sweet figs and fruits covered in sugar. Everything was good to eat and dressed for Christmas. The customers were in such a hurry, and so excited about the day, that they bumped into each other at the door. Their baskets crashed together. They forgot their shopping on the counter and came running back to get it. They made hundreds of mistakes like this, but nobody got angry. The grocer and his helpers were just as friendly and cheerful.

Soon the church bells began to ring, calling all good people to church. People came through the streets in their best clothes and with their happiest faces. At the same time, many poor people came out of the side streets and little lanes. Many of them had no oven at home. So they were carrying their dinners to the bakers' shops, where the bakers cooked them in their big ovens. The Spirit seemed very interested in these poor people. He stood with Scrooge in a baker's doorway. As the people passed, he lifted the covers from their dinners and shook something sweet-smelling onto them from his torch. It was a very unusual torch. Once or twice some dinner carriers bumped into each other and got angry. Then the Spirit shook a few drops of water on them from the torch, and they were friendly again at once. It was a shame to quarrel on Christmas Day, they said. And so it was!

After a while the bells stopped, and the bakers' shops closed. But you could still see a wet, melted patch above each baker's oven. The pavement there was steaming, as if the stones were cooking too.

"Is there a special flavor in what you shake from your torch?" asked Scrooge.

"Yes. My own."

"Does it work on any kind of dinner today?" asked Scrooge.

"On any dinner that is kindly given. On a poor one most."

"Why on a poor one most?" asked Scrooge.

"Because it needs it most."

"Spirit," said Scrooge, after thinking for a moment, "I am surprised at you. I never expected this from you. Why do you want to take away these people's simple pleasures?"

"I!" cried the Spirit.

"You want the bakers' shops to be closed on Sundays, because Sunday is a holy day," said Scrooge. "For many poor people, that is the only day they get a hot dinner at all. So you would take their dinners away from them. Isn't that true?"

"I!" cried the Spirit.

"Forgive me if I am wrong. But people have done it in your name, or at least in the name of your family," said Scrooge.

"There are some people on this earth of yours," answered the Spirit, "who say they know us. They do proud, selfish, and hateful things in our name. But they are complete strangers to us and to all our family. Remember that. Blame them for what they do, not us."

Then they went on to the outer parts of the town. Nobody could see them, just as before. Although the Ghost was a giant, he could fit easily under a low roof.

The Spirit had a kind, generous nature, and he loved all poor people. So he went straight to the house of Scrooge's clerk, Bob Cratchit, and took Scrooge with him. At the door the Spirit smiled and stopped. He shook a few drops from his torch over the door, as a blessing for the house. Think of that! Bob earned only fifteen shillings a week (a shilling was a small coin), and yet the Ghost of Christmas Present blessed his little house of four rooms!

Inside, Mrs. Cratchit was getting ready for dinner. Her dress was old and had been mended many times, but she had made it bright with ribbons, which are cheap. She laid the cloth on the table with the help of Belinda, her second daughter, who also wore bright ribbons. Peter Cratchit was stirring the potatoes with a fork. He was wearing his father's huge shirt collar, which Bob had given him for the day. He was very proud of it. Then two smaller Cratchits, a boy and a girl, came running in. They were shouting that they had smelled a goose cooking at the baker's shop, and they knew it was their own. They danced around the table with joy.

"Where can your dear father be?" said Mrs. Cratchit. "And your brother, Tiny Tim! And Martha wasn't this late last Christmas Day!"

"Here's Martha, mother!" said a girl, coming in as she spoke.

"Here's Martha, mother!" cried the two young Cratchits. "Hurrah! There's such a goose, Martha!"

"Oh, my dear, how late you are!" said Mrs. Cratchit. She kissed her a dozen times and helped her take off her hat and the warm cloth around her shoulders.

"We had a lot of work to finish last night," said Martha, "and we had to clean up this morning, mother!"

"Well, never mind, now that you're here," said Mrs. Cratchit. "Sit down by the fire, my dear, and get warm!"

"No, no! Father's coming," cried the two young Cratchits, who seemed to be everywhere at once. "Hide, Martha, hide!"

So Martha hid. Then little Bob, the father, came in with a very long scarf hanging down in front of him. His old clothes were carefully mended and brushed to look nice for the holiday. Tiny Tim was sitting on his shoulder. Poor Tiny Tim had a little crutch, a stick to help him walk, and his legs were held straight by an iron frame.

"Why, where's our Martha?" cried Bob Cratchit, looking around.

"Not coming," said Mrs. Cratchit.

"Not coming!" said Bob, and his happiness fell away at once. All the way from church he had been Tiny Tim's horse, and he had come home full of fun. "Not coming on Christmas Day!"

Martha could not bear to see him sad, even as a joke. So she came out from behind the cupboard door too early and ran into his arms. Meanwhile the two young Cratchits carried Tiny Tim off to the washroom to hear the pudding cooking noisily in the pot.

"And how did little Tim behave?" asked Mrs. Cratchit.

"As good as gold," said Bob, "and better. He sits alone so much that he gets very thoughtful, and he thinks the strangest things. On the way home he told me something. He hoped the people in church saw him, because he could not walk well. He thought it might help them remember Jesus on Christmas Day. Jesus made men walk who could not walk, and he made blind men see."

Bob's voice shook when he told them this. It shook even more when he said that Tiny Tim was growing strong and healthy.

They heard Tim's busy little crutch on the floor, and back he came. His brother and sister took him to his stool by the fire. Bob turned up his shirt cuffs and mixed a hot drink of gin and lemons in a jug. Peter and the two young Cratchits went to fetch the goose.

Then everyone was very busy. Mrs. Cratchit made the gravy hot. Peter mashed the potatoes with great energy. Belinda sweetened the apple sauce, and Martha warmed the plates. Bob sat Tiny Tim beside him in a tiny corner of the table. The two young Cratchits set chairs for everyone, including themselves. Then they put spoons in their mouths, so they would not shout for goose before it was their turn. At last the dishes were on the table, and they said a short prayer of thanks. Then everyone was quiet and waited. Mrs. Cratchit slowly picked up the big knife and got ready to cut into the goose. When she did, and the stuffing came pouring out, everyone around the table cheered happily. Even Tiny Tim beat on the table with the handle of his knife and cried weakly, "Hurrah!"

There never was such a goose. Bob said he didn't believe there had ever been such a goose. It was small and cheap, but with the apple sauce and mashed potatoes it was enough for the whole family. In fact, as Mrs. Cratchit said happily, there was even a little left at the end! Then Belinda changed the plates. Mrs. Cratchit left the room alone to bring in the pudding. She was too nervous to have anyone watch her.