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tave（第2页）

“Longpast？”inquiredScrooge，observantofhisdwarfishstature.

“No.Yourpast.”

PerhapsScroogecouldnothavetoldanybodywhy，ifanybodycouldhaveaskedhim，buthehadaspecialdesiretoseethespiritinhiscap；andbeggedhimtobecovered.

“What！”exclaimedtheghost，“wouldyousosoonputout，withworldlyhands，thelightIgive？Isitnotenoughthatyouareoneofthosewhosepassionsmadethiscap，andforcemethroughwholetrainsofyearstowearitlowuponmybrow？”

Scroogereverentlydisclaimedallintentiontooffend，oranyknowledgeofhavingwilfully“bonneted”thespiritatanyperiodofhislife.Hethenmadeboldtoinquirewhatbusinessbroughthimthere.

“Yourwelfare！”saidtheghost.

Scroogeexpressedhimselfmuchobliged，butcouldnothelpthinkingthatanightofunbrokenrestwouldhavebeenmoreconducivetothatend.Thespiritmusthaveheardhimthinking，foritsaidimmediately—

“Yourreclamation，then.Takeheed！”

Itputoutitsstronghandasitspoke，andclaspedhimgentlybythear

“Rise！andwalkwithme！”

ItwouldhavebeeninvainforScroogetopleadthattheweatherandthehourwerenotadaptedtopedestrianpurposes；thatbedwaswarm，andthethermometeralongwaybelowfreezing；thathewascladbutlightlyinhisslippers，dressing-gown，andnightcap；andthathehadacolduponhimatthattime.Thegrasp，thoughgentleasawoman’shand，wasnottoberesisted.Herose；butfindingthatthespiritmadetowardsthewindow，claspeditsrobeinsupplication.

“Iamamortal，”Scroogeremonstrated，“andliabletofall.”

“Bearbutatouchofmyhandthere，”saidthespirit，layingituponhisheart，“andyoushallbeupheldinmorethanthis！”

Asthewordswerespoken，theypassedthroughthewail，andstooduponanopencountryroad，withfieldsoneitherhand.Thecityhadentirelyvanished.Notavestigeofitwastobeseen.Thedarknessandthemisthadvanishedwithit，foritwasaclear，cold，winterday，withsnowupontheground.

“GoodHeaven！”saidScrooge，claspinghishandstogether，ashelookedabouthi“Iwasbredinthisplace.Iwasaboyhere！”

Thespiritgazeduponhimmildly.Itsgentletouch，thoughithadbeenlightandinstantaneous，appearedstillpresenttotheoldman’ssenseoffeeling.Hewasconsciousofathousandodoursfloatingintheair，eachoneconnectedwithathousandthoughts，andhopes，andjoys，andcareslong，longforgotten！

“Yourlipistrembling，”saidtheghost.“Andwhatisthatuponyourcheek？”

Scroogemuttered，withanunusualcatchinginhisvoice，thatitwasapimple；andbeggedtheghosttoleadhimwherehewould.

“Yourecollecttheway？”inquiredthespirit.

“Rememberit！”criedScrooge，withfervour；“Icouldwalkitblindfold.”

“Strangetohaveforgottenitforsomanyyears！”observedtheghost.“Letusgoon.”Theywalkedalongtheroad—Scroogerecognisingeverygate，andpost，andtree—untilalittlemarket-townappearedinthedistance，withitsbridge，itschurch，andwindingriver.Someshaggyponiesnowwereseentrottingtowardsthemwithboysupontheirbacks，whocalledtootherboysincountrygigsandcarts，drivenbyfarmers.Alltheseboyswereingreatspirits，andshoutedtoeachother，untilthebroadfieldsweresofullofmerrymusic，thatthecrispairlaughedtohearit.

“Thesearebutshadowsofthethingsthathavebeen，”saidtheghost.“Theyhavenoconsciousnessofus.”

Thejocundtravellerscameon；andastheycame，Scroogeknewandnamedthemeveryone.Whywasherejoicedbeyondallboundstoseethem？Whydidhiscoldeyeglisten，andhisheartleapupastheywentpast？WhywashefilledwithgladnesswhenheheardthemgiveeachotherMerryChristmas，astheypartedatcrossroadsandbyways，fortheirseveralhomes？WhatwasMerryChristmastoScrooge？OutuponMerryChristmas！Whatgoodhaditeverdonetohim？

“Theschoolisnotquitedeserted，”saidtheghost.“Asolitarychild，neglectedbyhisfriends，islefttherestill.”

Scroogesaidheknewit.Andhesobbed.

Theyleftthehighroad，byawell-rememberedlane，andsoonapproachedamansionofdullredbrick，withalittleweather-cock-surmountedcupolaontheroof，andabellhanginginit.Itwasalargehouse，butoneofbrokenfortunes；forthespaciousofficeswerelittleused，theirwallsweredampandmossy，theirwindowsbroken，andtheirgatesdecayed.Fowlscluckedandstruttedinthestables；andthecoach-housesandshedswereoverrunwithgrass.Norwasitmoreretentiveofitsancientstate，within；forenteringthedrearyhall，andglancingthroughtheopendoorsofmanyrooms，theyfoundthempoorlyfurnished，coldandvast.Therewasanearthysavourintheair，ahillybarenessintheplace，whichassociateditselfsomehowwithtoomuchgettingupbycandlelight，andnottoomuchtoeat.

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