t fifteen 'Bob'
a week himself; he pocketed on Saturdays but fifteen copies of his
Christian name; and yet the Ghost of Christmas Present blessed his
four-roomed house!

'Then up rose Mrs. Cratchit, Cratchit's wife, dressed out but
poorly in a twice-turned gown, but brave in ribands, which are
cheap and make a goodly show for sixpence; and she laid the cloth,
assisted by Belinda Cratchit, second of her daughters, also brave
in ribands; while Master Peter Cratchit plunged a fork into the
saucepan of potatoes, and getting the corners of his monstrous
shirt-collar (Bob's private property, conferred upon his son and
heir in honor of the day) into his mouth, rejoiced to find himself
so gallantly attired, and yearned to show his linen in the
fashionable Parks. And now two smaller Cratchits, boy and girl,
came tearing in, screaming that outside the baker's they had smelt
the goose, and known it for their own; and basking in luxurious
thoughts of sage-and-onions, these young Cratchits danced about
the table, and exalted Master Peter Cratchit to the skies, while
he (not proud, although his collars nearly choked him) blew the
fire, until the slow potatoes, bubbling up, knocked proudly at the
sauce-pan lid to be let out and peeled.

''What has ever got your precious father, then?' said Mrs.
Cratchit. 'And your brother, Tiny Tim; and Martha warn't as late
last Christmas Day by half-an-hour!'

''Here's Martha, mother!' said a girl, appearing as she spoke.

''Here's Martha, mother!' cried the two young Cratchits. 'Hurrah!
There's _such_ a goose, Martha!'

''Why, bless your heart alive, my dear, how late you are!' said
Mrs. Cratchit, kissing her a dozen times, and taking off her shawl
and bonnet for her, with officious zeal.

''We'd a deal of work to finish up last night,' replied the girl,
'and had to clear away this morning, mother!'

''Well! Never mind so long as you are come,' said Mrs. Cratchit.
'Sit ye down before the fire, my dear, and have a warm, Lord bless
ye!'

''No, no! There's father coming,' cried the two young Cratchits,
who were every where at once. 'Hide, Martha, hide!'

'So Martha hid herself, and in came little Bob, the father, with
at least three feet of comforter, exclusive of the fringe, hanging
down before him; and his thread-bare clothes darned up