Різдвяна історія

Chapter 3

           Thecrispleavesofholly,mistletoe,andivyreflectedbackthelight,asifsomanylittlemirrorshadbeenscatteredthere;andsuchamightyblazewentroaringupthechimney,asthatdullpetrificationofahearthhadneverknowninScrooge’stime,orMarley’s,orformanyandmanyawinterseasongone.Heapeduponthefloor,toformakindofthrone,wereturkeys,geese,game,poultry,brawn,greatjointsofmeat,sucking-pigs,longwreathsofsausages,mince-pies,plum-puddings,barrelsofoysters,red-hotchestnuts,cherry-cheekedapples,juicyoranges,lusciouspears,immensetwelfth-cakes,andseethingbowlsofpunch,thatmadethechamberdimwiththeirdelicioussteam.Ineasystateuponthiscouch,theresatajollyGiant,glorioustosee,whoboreaglowingtorch,inshapenotunlikePlenty’shorn,andhelditup,highup,tosheditslightonScrooge,ashecamepeepingroundthedoor.

           ‘Comein!’exclaimedtheGhost.‘Comein,andknowmebetter,man.

           Scroogeenteredtimidly,andhunghisheadbeforethisSpirit.HewasnotthedoggedScroogehehadbeen;andthoughtheSpirit’seyeswereclearandkind,hedidnotliketomeetthem.

           ‘IamtheGhostofChristmasPresent,’saidtheSpirit.‘Lookuponme.

           Scroogereverentlydidso.Itwasclothedinonesimplegreenrobe,ormantle,borderedwithwhitefur.Thisgarmenthungsolooselyonthefigure,thatitscapaciousbreastwasbare,asifdisdainingtobewardedorconcealedbyanyartifice.

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