e 25: By Alfred Domett, (d[)o]m'et), an English writer
(1811-1887).]

CHRISTMAS EVE AT FEZZIWIG'S[26]

Old Fezziwig in his warehouse laid down his pen, and looked up at the
clock which pointed to the hour of seven. He rubbed his hands; adjusted
his waistcoat; laughed all over himself, from his shoes to his organ of
benevolence; and called out in a comfortable, oily, rich, fat, jovial
voice:--

"Yo ho, there! Ebenezer! Dick!"

Ebenezer came briskly in, followed by his fellow-'prentice.

"Yo ho, my boys!" said Fezziwig. "No more work to-night. Christmas Eve,
Dick! Christmas, Ebenezer! Let's have the shutters up," cried old
Fezziwig, with a sharp clap of his hands, "before a man can say Jack
Robinson."

You wouldn't believe how those two fellows went at it! They charged into
the street with the shutters--one, two, three--had 'em in their
places--four, five, six--barred 'em and pinned 'em--seven, eight,
nine--and came back before you could have got to twelve, panting like
race horses.

"Hilli-ho!" cried old Fezziwig, skipping down from his desk, with
wonderful agility. "Clear away, my lads, and let's have lots of room
here! Hilli-ho, Dick! Chirrup, Ebenezer!"

Clear away? There was nothing they wouldn't have cleared away, or
couldn't have cleared away, with old Fezziwig looking on. It was done in
a minute. Every movable was packed off, as if it were dismissed from
public life forevermore. The floor was swept and watered, the lamps were
trimmed, fuel was heaped upon the fire; and the warehouse was as snug
and warm, and dry and bright, as any ballroom you would desire to see
upon a winter's night.

In came a fiddler with a music book, and went up to the lofty desk, and
made an orchestra of it. In came Mrs. Fezziwig, one vast substantial
smile. In came the three Miss Fezziwigs, beaming and lovable. In came
the six young followers, whose hearts they broke. In came all the young
men and young women employed in the business. In came the housemaid,
with her cousin the baker. In came the cook, with her brother's
particular friend the milkman. In came the boy from over the way, who
was suspected of not having enough to eat from his master. In they all
came, one after another--some shyly, some boldly, some gracefully, some
awkwardly, some pushing, some pulling. In they all came, anyhow and
everyhow.

Away they all went, twenty couples at once; down the middle and up
again; round and round in various stages of af