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A Christmas Carol in Prose; Being a Ghost Story of Christmas
Sk3Rp8NhCbHjs4fT347N_Rm9Jb1588B4PiqSMshGQK4
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A Christmas Carol is a novella by Charles Dickens. It was first published in London by Chapman & Hall on December 19, 1843, and illustrated by John Leech. The story focuses on Ebenezer Scrooge, an elderly miser who is visited by the ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future. The Ghost of Christmas Past takes Scrooge through a series of flashbacks that show him his own childhood and youth. He sees his carefree days as a child, his happy marriage, and the death of his beloved wife. He is also reminded of his former friend Jacob Marley, who was kind and generous when they were both young men.The Ghost of Christmas Present takes Scrooge to a number of places where people are enjoying Christmas. He sees the Cratchits, a poor family with a sick child, and is deeply moved by their love and resilience. He is also taken to a party where the wealthy and the poor mingle together, and he realizes that Christmas is a time for everyone to come together and celebrate.The Ghost of Christmas Future takes Scrooge to the graveyard where he sees his own gravestone. He is shown a vision of the Cratchits' future, in which Tiny Tim dies. Scrooge is horrified by what he sees and begs the ghost to change his future.When Scrooge wakes up on Christmas morning, he is a changed man. He is no longer the selfish miser he once was, and he is determined to start a new life. He sends a turkey to the Cratchits and visits them at their home, where he is warmly welcomed. He also gives money to a number of charities and becomes a generous benefactor to the poor.A Christmas Carol is a classic story that is still enjoyed by people of all ages today. It is a reminder of the importance of kindness, compassion, and generosity, and it is a story that has touched the hearts of millions of readers worldwide.

Bobs voice was tremulous when he told them this, and trembled more when he said that Tiny Tim was growing strong and hearty. His active little crutch was heard upon the floor, and back came Tiny Tim before another word was spoken, escorted by his brother and sister to his stool before the fire; and while Bob, turning up his cuffsas if, poor fellow, they were capable of being made more shabbycompounded some hot mixture in a jug with gin and lemons, and stirred it round and round and put it on the hob to simmer; Master Peter, and the two ubiquitous young Cratchits went to fetch the goose, with which they soon returned in high procession.
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Such a bustle ensued that you might have thought a goose the rarest of all birds; a feathered phenomenon, to which a black swan was a matter of courseand in truth it was something very like it in that house. Mrs. Cratchit made the gravy (ready beforehand in a little saucepan) hissing hot; Master Peter mashed the potatoes with incredible vigour; Miss Belinda sweetened up the apple-sauce; Martha dusted the hot plates; Bob took Tiny Tim beside him in a tiny corner at the table; the two young Cratchits set chairs for everybody, not forgetting themselves, and mounting guard upon their posts, crammed spoons into their mouths, lest they should shriek for goose before their turn came to be helped. At last the dishes were set on, and grace was said. It was succeeded by a breathless pause, as Mrs. Cratchit, looking slowly all along the carving-knife, prepared to plunge it in the breast; but when she did, and when the long expected gush of stuffing issued forth, one murmur of delight arose all ro
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There never was such a goose. Bob said he didnt believe there ever was such a goose cooked. Its tenderness and flavour, size and cheapness, were the themes of universal admiration. Eked out by apple-sauce and mashed potatoes, it was a sufficient dinner for the whole family; indeed, as Mrs. Cratchit said with great delight (surveying one small atom of a bone upon the dish), they hadnt ate it all at last! Yet every one had had enough, and the youngest Cratchits in particular, were steeped in sage and onion to the eyebrows! But now, the plates being changed by Miss Belinda, Mrs. Cratchit left the room alonetoo nervous to bear witnessesto take the pudding up and bring it in. Suppose it should not be done enough! Suppose it should break in turning out! Suppose somebody should have got over the wall of the back-yard, and stolen it, while they were merry with the goosea supposition at which the two young Cratchits became livid! All sorts of horrors were supposed.
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Hallo! A great deal of steam! The pudding was out of the copper. A smell like a washing-day! That was the cloth. A smell like an eating-house and a pastrycooks next door to each other, with a laundresss next door to that! That was the pudding! In half a minute Mrs. Cratchit enteredflushed, but smiling proudlywith the pudding, like a speckled cannon-ball, so hard and firm, blazing in half of half-a-quartern of ignited brandy, and bedight with Christmas holly stuck into the top. Oh, a wonderful pudding! Bob Cratchit said, and calmly too, that he regarded it as the greatest success achieved by Mrs. Cratchit since their marriage. Mrs. Cratchit said that now the weight was off her mind, she would confess she had had her doubts about the quantity of flour. Everybody had something to say about it, but nobody said or thought it was at all a small pudding for a large family. It would have been flat heresy to do so. Any Cratchit would have blushed to hint at such a thing.
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