Різдвяна історія

Chapter 2

           OldFezziwiglaiddownhispen,andlookedupattheclock,whichpointedtothehourofseven.Herubbedhishands;adjustedhiscapaciouswaistcoat;laughedalloverhimself,fromhisshoestohisorganofbenevolence;andcalledoutinacomfortable,oily,rich,fat,jovialvoice:

           ‘Yoho,there!Ebenezer!Dick!’

           Scrooge’sformerself,nowgrownayoungman,camebrisklyin,accompaniedbyhisfellow-prentice.

           ‘DickWilkins,tobesure!’saidScroogetotheGhost.‘Blessme,yes.Thereheis.Hewasverymuchattachedtome,wasDick.PoorDick.Dear,dear.

           ‘Yoho,myboys,’saidFezziwig.‘Nomoreworkto-night!ChristmasEve,Dick.Christmas,Ebenezer.Let’shavetheshuttersup,’criedoldFezziwig,withasharpclapofhishands,‘beforeamancansayJackRobinson.

           Youwouldn’tbelievehowthosetwofellowswentatit.Theychargedintothestreetwiththeshuttersone,two,threehadthemupintheirplacesfour,five,sixbarredthemandpinnedthemseven,eight,nineandcamebackbeforeyoucouldhavegottotwelve,pantinglikerace-horses.

           ‘Hilli-ho!’criedoldFezziwig,skippingdownfromthehighdesk,withwonderfulagility.‘Clearaway,mylads,andlet’shavelotsofroomhere.Hilli-ho,Dick.Chirrup,Ebenezer.

           Clearaway.Therewasnothingtheywouldn’thaveclearedaway,orcouldn’thaveclearedaway,witholdFezziwiglookingon.Itwasdoneinaminute.

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