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Anything in it by reaching, for the sake of a so and so
Such a man as he was, I promise you that old Joe,"
Returned the woman. Joe examined the next item
"Don't drop oil upon the blankets, don’t spoil them"
"His blankets?" asked Joe. "Whose would they be?"
She replied "He won’t get a chill without them, will he?"
"I hope he didn't die of any thing catching. Eh?"
Said old Joe, stopping in his work, and looking at her
"Don't you be afraid of that, if he did" said the woman.
"I wasn’t so fond of him that I'd loiter with the man
And you may look through that shirt till your eyes ache
You’ll find no hole, nor threadbare place and no mistake
It's the very best he had, and a fine one too as you see
And they'd have wasted it, if it hadn't been for me."
"And What do you call wasting of it?" asked old Joe.
"Putting it on him to be buried in, don’t you know,"
She said with a laugh "Somebody was fool enough
To put it on, but I took it off and dressed him in rough
If calico ain't good enough for the purpose of burying
It isn't good enough for anything. It's quite as becoming”
She said, “He can't look uglier than he did in that one."
Scrooge listened to this horrified at what they’d done
As they sat grouped about their spoil, in the scanty light
He was filled with detestation and disgust at the sight
"Ha, ha!" laughed the same woman, as Joe paid out
Laughter still rang in his ears as they went without
"Spirit," said Scrooge, shuddering from head to toe
"I see, The case of this man might be my own I know”
Shaking with rage and fear “I know” he began again
“My life tends that way, now. Oh Merciful Heaven,”
“What is this?" he said fearing that he was deranged
And he recoiled in terror, for the scene had changed


VERSE 4 – RIP

They stood in a room by a bare and uncurtained bed
On which, beneath a ragged sheet lay something dead
The room was very, very dark, too dark to see clear
But Scrooge glanced round anyway driven by fear
A shaft of pale moonlight fell straight upon the bed
The Phantom steady hand was pointed to the head
Scrooge looked at the phantom then again at the man
The plundered and bereft, unwept and uncared for man
The sheet was so loosely arranged that any movement
Would have exposed the cadaver’s embodiment
Scrooge thought of how easy it would be to do it
But was as powerless to do so as to dismiss the spirit
Though he was willing He could not expose the face
"Spirit," scrooge said, "this is a cold fearful place.
I shall not leave this lesson, trust me. Let us not linger."
Still the Ghost pointed to the head with a bony finger
"I understand you," Scrooge said "and I would do it,
If I only could. But I have not the power to, Spirit."
The phantom seemed to look coldly down on him
"If there is any person in the town, who has in them”
Scrooge said, “any emotion caused by this man's death,"
"Show them to me, I beg you with my last breath."
The Phantom spread its dark robe out like a wing
And then a new scene appeared on its withdrawing


VERSE 5 – A SHOW OF EMOTION

The scene revealed was a room illuminated by the day
Where a mother watched her children quietly play
She was expecting some one with anxious eagerness
For she began pacing up and down in her distress
She started at every sound and looked out the window
Then glanced at the clock the tried in vain to sit and sew
She could hardly bear the noise of her playing children
But the expected and feared knock was heard then
Hurrying to the door she found her husband there
A young man who’s depressed face was full of care
But there was a remarkable expression in it now
A kind of serious delight about his eyes and brow
The feelings of delight of which he felt ashamed
And he struggled hard to repress the joy unnamed
He sat down near to his wife beside the fireside
Her obvious anxiety was quite impossible to hide
Then she asked him to tell her the news that he had
When he didn’t answer "Is it good." she said, "or bad?"
"Bad," he answered. "We are quite ruined." Said she
"No. Caroline” he replied “There is hope yet you see"
"If he relents then nothing is past hope,” Caroline said
"He is past relenting," said her husband. "He is dead."
Caroline was a mild and pleasant still in her youth
An open young creature whose face showed the truth
She was thankful in her soul to hear it and was happy
She prayed forgiveness next moment, and was sorry
"What the half-drunken woman actually said to me
About him being ill and not allowing me to see
When I tried to see him and obtain a week's delay
And I told you last night dear that I was sent away
I thought that it was an excuse and she was lying
Well it was true but He wasn’t only very ill, but dying"
"To whom will our debt be transferred to though?"
She asked him and he replied to her "I don't know.
But before that we shall have the money for them
And if not we’ll not find a successor as mean as him”
“Caroline we may sleep with lighter hearts tonight
Yes for the future does indeed look exceeding bright”
Even The children became brighter with each breath
And it was a much happier house for this man's death.


VERSE 6 – BACK IN CAMDEN TOWN

Now the only emotion that the phantom could show
Caused by the death, was only one of pleasure though
"Let me see some tenderness connected with a death,"
Said Scrooge; “some tenderness spirit is my request”
The Ghost conducted him through alley and street
Road, lane and thoroughfare all of them familiar to his feet
And as they went along, Scrooge looked here and there
To find himself, but he could not se himself anywhere
They reached poor Bob Cratchit's humble house again
And found mother and children seated round the fire
It was Quiet. Very quiet unnaturally so in Scrooges views
Even The noisy little Cratchit’s were as still as statues
Sat in a corner, looking up at Peter, who was reading
The mother and her daughters were engaged in sewing
It was very quiet as he read from the book before him
"And he took a child, and set him in the midst of them."
The mother laid her work upon the table at her side
Put her hand to her face to hide the tear she’d cried
"The color hurts my eyes," she said to the children
Then Mrs. Cratchit said, "They're better now again,
Sewing by candlelight makes them weak rather
And I wouldn't want to show weak eyes to your father
Not for the world I wouldn’t” she heard a bell chime
“No not when he comes home, It must be near his time."
"Past it rather," Peter answered, shutting up his book.
Then he walked to the window so that he could look
Then he said "But I think he's walked a little slower
These last few evenings, than he used to, mother"
They were quiet again. Until she broke the silence
And in a steady, cheerful voice, only faltering once
"I have known him walk with Tiny Tim on his shoulder
Very fast indeed." "And so have I, often" cried Peter
"And so have I," exclaimed another. So had they all.
"He was Very light to carry," she continued to recall
Resuming her work, "and his father loved him so,
That it was no trouble” she faltered “no trouble, no”
“There your father at the door!" continued the mother
She hurried to meet him as Bob stood in his comforter
He sat beside the fire as his wife prepared some tea
And they all tried to settle him down comfortably
Then the two young Cratchit’s got up on his knees
And each child kissed his cheek to set him at ease
He feigned good cheer and spoke to them all pleasantly
And bob saw their work and he praised the industry
And the speed that Mrs. Cratchit and the girls display
He said they would be done long before next Sunday
"Sunday Robert! You went to-day, then?" she said
"Yes I went their today, my dear," Bob responded
"I wish you had come, you could have seen It then
Seen how green a place it is but you'll see it often.
I promised him that I would walk there on a Sunday”
His words deserted him then and he could only say
“My little, little child!" cried Bob. "My little son!"
He broke down The loss was to great of his little one
He couldn't help it. It was the price of feeling love
He left the room, and went up to the room above,
Which was lit cheerfully, and hung with Christmas.
And he entered and saw the cause of his distress
There was a chair set close beside the child’s bed
And He composed himself and kissed the little head
When He was reconciled to the loss of his little son
He went down stairs content to be with everyone
They drew about the fire, and huddled against the chill
And talked at length the girls and mother working still
Bob told them of the act of extraordinary kindness
By Mr. Scrooge's nephew who witnessed his distress
When they had met that very day in Camden town
And noticing that Bob looked more than a little down
Inquired what had happened to distress Bob Cratchit
"And as he is a nice fellow" said Bob, "I told him all of it.
'I am heartily sorry for it, Mr. Cratchit, he said to me,
'And heartily sorry for your good wife most heartily’.
' By the bye, how he ever knew that, I don't know."
"Knew what, my dear?” she said continuing to sew
"Why, that you were a good wife," Bob said warmly
"Everybody knows that," said Peter very proudly
"Very well observed," cried Bob. "I hope they do.
'Heartily sorry,' he said, 'sorry for the both of you.
If I can be of service to you in any way,' said he,
Giving me his card, 'I live here. Pray come to me.”
It really seemed as if he knew our Tiny Tim, and felt it"
"I'm sure he's a good dear soul," said Mrs. Cratchit.
“I shouldn't be at all surprised so mark what I say,”
Bob said, “if he got Peter a better situation one day
And Peter will make his way in some way or other
But however and when ever we part from one another,
I am sure we shall none of us forget poor Tiny Tim”
"Never, father!" cried they all. “We’ll never forget him”
"I know, my dears, that when we recollect how patient
And how mild he was and how happy and content
And although he was a little, little child we shall not
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