(_The Spirit of Christmas Past rises from the hearth as Scrooge finishes his Speech._)

_Scro._ Are you the Spirit, sir, whose coming was foretold to me?

_Spirit._ I am.

_Scro._ Who, and what are you?

_Spir._ I am the ghost of Christmas Past.

_Scro._ Long past?

_Spir._ No; your past.

_Scro._ I beg you will be covered.

_Spir._ What! would you so soon put out, with worldly hands, the light I give? Is it not enough that you are one of those whose pa.s.sions made this cap, and force me through whole trains of years to wear it low upon my brow?

_Scro._ I have no intention of offending you. May I make bold to enquire what business has brought you here?

_Spir._ Your welfare.

_Scro._ I am much obliged, but I think a night of unbroken rest would be more conducive to that end.

_Spir._ Your reclamation, then. Take heed! observe the shadows of the past, and profit by the recollection of them.

_Scro._ What would you have me do?

_Spir._ Remain where you are, while memory recalls the past.

SCENE II.--_The spirit waves a wand, the scene opens and displays a dilapidated school-room. Young Scrooge discovered seated at a window, reading._

_Scro._ (_Trembling_) Good heavens! I was a boy! It's the old school; and its the Christmas I was left alone.

_Spir._ You remember it?

_Scro._ Yes, yes; I know! I was reading all about Ali Baba. Dear old honest Ali Baba. And Valentine and his wild brother, Orson; and the Sultan's groom turned upside down by the Geni. Served him right, I'm glad of it; what business had _he_ to be married to the Princess! [_In an earnest and excited manner, and voice between, laughing and crying._]

There's the parrot: green body and yellow tail, with a thing like a lettuce growing out of the top of his head; there he is! Poor Robin Crusoe, where have you been, Robin Crusoe? There goes Friday, running for his life to the little Creek. Halloo! Hoop! Halloo! [_Changing to a pitiful tone, in allusion to his former self._] Poor boy.

_Spir._ Strange to have forgotten this for so many years.

_Scro._ (_Putting his hand in his pocket and drying his eyes on his cuff_) I wish--but it's too late now.

_Spir._ What is the matter?

_Scro._ Nothing; nothing. There was a boy singing a Christmas carol at my door, last night, I should like to have given him something, that's all.

[_Young Scrooge rises and walks up and down. Door opens and f.a.n.n.y Scrooge darts in and puts her arms about his neck and kisses him._]

_f.a.n.n.y._ Dear, dear brother! I have come to bring you home, dear brother. (_Clapping her hands and laughing gleefully._) To bring you home, home, home!

_Young S._ Home, little Fan?

_Fan._ Yes! Home for good, and all. Home for ever and ever. Father is so much kinder than he used to be, that home is like Heaven. He spoke so gently to me one dear night when I was going to bed, that I was not afraid to ask him once more if you might come home; and he said yes, you should; and sent me in a coach to bring you. And you're to be a man, and never to come back here; but first we're to be together all the Christmas long, and have the merriest time in all the world.

_Young S._ You're quite a woman, little Fan! [_She claps her hands and laughs, tries to touch his head, but being too little, laughs again.

Stands on tip-toe to embrace him, and in childish eagerness and glee, drags him willingly towards the door. Exeunt._]

_Voice_ [_outside_]. Bring down Master Scrooge's box, there.

[_Scene Closes_]

_Spir._ Always a delicate creature, whom a breath might have withered.

But she had a large heart.

_Scro._ So she had. You're right. I will not gainsay it, Spirit. Lord forbid.

_Spir._ She died a woman, and had, as I think, children.

_Scro._ One child.

_Spir._ True; your nephew.

_Scro._ [_uneasily_] Yes.

_Spir._ Let us see another Christmas. (_Waves wand._)

SCENE III.--_Fezziwig's Ball, full depth of stage, representing a wareroom. Fezziwig and Mrs. Fezziwig L., the former standing and clapping his hands, and the latter seated in an arm-chair, manifesting delight. Old bald-headed fiddler, on an elevated seat, at the back. d.i.c.k Wilkins, with two Miss Fezziwigs, forward to right and back. Scrooge's former self advances and retires to the partners, with fancy steps: hands around; right and left; ladies change; balance; promenade. Other characters to fill up the picture. Laughter and merriment to follow Scrooge's speech._

_Spir._ Do you know it?

_Scro._ Know it! I was apprenticed here. Why, its old Fezziwig. Bless his heart; its Fezziwig alive again, and Mrs Fezziwig, too. d.i.c.k Wilkins, to be sure, with Fezziwig's two daughters. Bless me, yes. There he is. He was very much attached to me, was d.i.c.k. Poor d.i.c.k. And see me, cutting the pigeon-wing. Dear, dear, dear!

(_Dance comes to an end amid general hilarity and merriment, and the scene closes in._)

_Spir._ A small matter to make these silly folks so full of grat.i.tude.

_Scro._ Small! Why, old Fezziwig was one of the best men that ever lived. He never missed giving his employees a Christmas ball.

_Spir._ Why, is it not! He spent but a few pounds of money--three or four pounds, perhaps--. Is that so much that he deserves your praise?

_Scro._ It isn't that, Spirit. He had the power to render us happy or unhappy; to make our services light or burdensome; a pleasure or a toil.

Say that his power lives in words and looks; in things so light and unsignificant that it is impossible to add and count 'em up; what then?

The happiness he gives is quite as great if it cost a fortune--oh, dear.

_Spir._ What is the matter?

_Scro._ Nothing, particular.