The Washington herald., 1920-12-25
STAVE ONE.
MARLEY's GHOST.

y" There is no doubt whatever
wv about that The register of his
burial was signed by the clergy
man. the clerk, the undertaken. and the
chief mourner. Scrooge signed it; and
Scrooge's name was good upon Change,
for anything he chose ts put his hand to.
Old Marley was as dead as a door-nail.
This must be distinctly understood. or
nothing wonderful can come of the story
1 am going to relate. If we were not per-
fectly convinced that HamIet's' Father
died before the play began. there would
be nothing more remarkable in his TAX
ing a stroll at night. in an easterly wind,
upon his own ramparts. than there would
be in any other middle-ased gentleman
rashly turning out after dark in a breezy
spot-say Saint PauPs Churchyard for
instance-literally to astonish his sons
weak mind.
Scrooge never painted out Old Marley's
name. There It stood, years afterwards.
above the warehouse door; Scrooge and
Marley The firm was known as Scrooge
and Marley. Sometimes people new to
the business called Scrooge Scrooge, and
sometimes Marley, but he answered to
both names: it was all the same to him.
Oh, But he was a tight listed hand at
the grindstone. 'Scrooge! a squeezing.
wrenching. grasping. scraping, clutching,
covetous, old sinner! Hard and sharp as
flint, from which no steel had ever struck
out generous fire; secret, and self-con-
tanned, and solitary as an oyster.
Nobody eper stopped him in the street
to say, with gladsome looks, MY dear
Scrooge, how are you? When will you
come to see me?' Even the blind mems
dogs appeared to know him; and when
they saw him coming on, would tug their
owners into doorways and up courts; and
then would wag their tails as though they
said. NO eye at all is better than an evil
eye, dark mastert"
But what did Scrooge care? 1t was the
thing he liked. To edge his way along
the crowded path of life, warning all
human sympathy to keep its distance,
was what the knowing ones call nuts"
to Scrooge.
Once upon a time-of all the good days
in the year, on Christmas Eve-old
Scrooge sat busy in his counting-house
1t was cold, bleak, biting weather; foggy
withal; and he could hear the people in
the court outside go wheeling up and
down, beating their hands upon their
breasts, and stamping their feet upon the
pavement-stones to warm them. The city
clocks had only just gone three, but it
was quite dark already.
The door of Scrooge's counting-hous
was open that he might keep his eye
upon his clerk, who in q dismal little cell
beyond, a sort of tank, was copying let
ters.. Scrooge had a very small fire, but
the clerks fire was SO very much smaller
that it looked like one coal.
"a merry Christmas, uncle. God save
you!' cried q cheerful voice. 1t was the
voice of Scrooges nephew, who came up
on him so quickly that this was the first
intimation he had of his approach.
BAH said Scrooge, "Humbug!"
He had so heated himself with rapid
walking in the fog and frost. this neph-
ew of Scrooges, that he was all in a
glow; his face was ruddy and handsome;
his eyes sparkled, and his breath smoked
again.
Christmas a humbug, uncle said
Scrooge's nephew. You don't mean that,
1 am sure"
II do" said Scrooge. Merry Christmas.
What right have you TO be merry? What
reason have you to be merry? You're
poor enough"
Come. them" returned the nephew
gaily. What right have you to be dis
NAL? What reason haye-you to be mo-
rose? You're rich enough"
ScrOoge having no better answer ready
on the spur of the moment, said, "Bah!'
again; and followed it up with Hum
bug
Don't be cross. uncle" said the neph-
ew.
What else can 1 be-" returned the un-
Gle, when live in such a world OF fools
as this? Merry Christmas! Out upon
merry Christmas! What's Christmas time
to you but time for paying bills with
out money; a time for finding yourself q
year older, but not an hour richer; a time
for balancing your books and having
every item in 'em through a round dozen
of months presented dead against you? II
1 could work my wilI,"- said Scrooge in
dignantly, every idiot who goes about
with Merry Christmas on his lips should
be boiled with his own pudding. and
buried with a stake of holly through his
heart. He should!"
'Uncle!" pleaded the nephew.
Nephew" returned the uncle, sternly
keep Christmas in your own way and let
me keep IL in mine"
Keep it," repeated Scrolge's nephew.
But you don't keep it,"
"Let me leave it alone, then" said
Scroose. Much good may it do you!
Much good 1t has ever done your
There are many things from which
1 might have derived good, by which ]
have not profited. / dare say" returned
the nephew: Christmas among the rest
And therefore, uncle, though it has never
put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket
/ believe that 1t HAS done me good, and
WILL do me good; and 1 say, God bless
it,"
The clerk in the Tank involuntarily ap-
plauded; becoming Immediately sensible
of the impropriety, he poked the fire
and extinguished the last frail spark fol-
ever.
Let me hear another sound from YOU
said scrooge. and ybTn keep your
Christmas by losing YOUR situation"
Don't be angry, uncle. Come, Dine