"I was only going to say,''said Scrooge's nephew,"that the consequence of his taking a dislike to us,and not making merry with us,is,as I think,that he loses some pleasant moments,which could do him no harm.I am sure he loses pleasanter companions than he can find in his own thoughts,either in his mouldy old office,or his dusty chambers.I mean to give him the same chance every year,whether he likes it or not,for I pity him.He may rail at Christmas till he dies,but he can't help thinking better of it--I defy him--if he finds me going there,in good temper,year after year,and saying Uncle Scrooge,how are you?If it only puts him in the vein to leave his poor clerk fifty pounds,that's something;and I think I shook him yesterday."
It was their turn to laugh now at the notion of his shaking Scrooge.
But being thoroughly good-natured,and not much caring what they laughed at,so that they laughed at any rate,he encouraged them in their merriment,and passed the bottle joyously.
After tea,they had some music.For they were a musical family,and knew what they were about,when they sung a Glee or Catch,I can assure you:especially Topper,who could growl away in the bass like a good one,and never swell the large veins in his forehead,or get red in the face over it.Scrooge's niece played well upon the harp;and played among other tunes a simple little air (a mere nothing:you might learn to whistle it in two minutes),which had been familiar to the child who fetched Scrooge from the boarding-school,as he had been reminded by the Ghost of Christmas Past.When this strain of music sounded,all the things that Ghost had shown him,came upon his mind;he softened more and more;and thought that if he could have listened to it often,years ago,he might have cultivated the kindnesses of life for his own happiness with his own hands,without resorting to the sexton's spade that buried Jacob Marley.
But they didn't devote the whole evening to music.After a while they played at forfeits;for it is good to be children sometimes,and never better than at at Christmas,when its mighty Founder was a child himself.
Stop!There was first a game at blind-man's buff.Of course there was.
And I no more believe Topper was really blind than I believe he had eyes in his boots.My opinion is,that it was a done thing between him and Scrooge's nephew;and that the Ghost of Christmas Present knew it.The way he went after that plump sister in the lace tucker,was an outrage on the credulity of human nature.Knocking down the fire-irons,tumbling over the chairs,bumping against the piano,smothering himself among the curtains,wherever she went,there went he.He always knew where the plump sister was.He wouldn't catch anybody else.If you had fallen up against him (as some of them did),on purpose,he would have made a feint of endeavouring to seize you,which would have been an affront to your understanding,and would instantly have sidled off in the direction of the plump sister.She often cried out that it wasn't fair;and it really was not.But when at last,he caught her;when,in spite of all her silken rustlings,and her rapid flutterings past him,he got her into a corner whence there was no escape;then his conduct was the most execrable.For his pretending not to know her;his pretending that it was necessary to touch her head-dress,and further to assure himself of her identity by pressing a certain ring upon her finger,and a certain chain about her neck;was vile,monstrous.
No doubt she told him her opinion of it,when,another blind-man being in office,they were so very confidential together,behind the curtains.
Scrooge's niece was not one of the blind-man's buff party,but was made comfortable with a large chair and a footstool,in a snug corner,where the Ghost and Scrooge were close behind her.But she joined in the forfeits,and loved her love to admiration with all the letters of the alphabet.Likewise at the game of How,When,and Where,she was very great,and to the secret joy of Scrooge's nephew,beat her sisters hollow:though they were sharp girls too,as Topper could have told you.There might have been twenty people there,young and old,but they all played,and so did Scrooge;for,wholly forgetting in the interest he had in what was going on,that his voice made no sound in their ears,he sometimes came out with his guess quite loud,and vey often guessed quite right,too;for the sharpest needle,best Whitechapel,warranted not to cut in the eye,was not sharper than Scrooge;blunt as he took it in his head to be.
The Ghost was greatly pleased to find him in this mood,and looked upon him with such favour,that he begged like a boy to be allowed to stay until the guests departed.But this the Spirit said could not be done.
"Here is a new game,"said Scrooge."One half hour,Spirit,only one!"
