ome, my dear?' said Scrooge to the girl. 'Nice girl!
Very.'

'Yes, sir.'

'Where is he, my love?' said Scrooge.

'He's in the dining-room, sir, along with mistress. I'll show you
upstairs, if you please.'

'Thankee. He knows me,' said Scrooge, with his hand already on the
dining-room lock. 'I'll go in here, my dear.'

He turned it gently, and sidled his face in round the door. They were
looking at the table (which was spread out in great array); for these
young housekeepers are always nervous on such points, and like to see
that everything is right.

'Fred!' said Scrooge.

Dear heart alive, how his niece by marriage started! Scrooge had
forgotten, for the moment, about her sitting in the corner with the
footstool, or he wouldn't have done it on any account.

'Why, bless my soul!' cried Fred, 'who's that?'

[Illustration: _"It's I, your uncle Scrooge. I have come to dinner. Will
you let me in, Fred?"_]

'It's I. Your uncle Scrooge. I have come to dinner. Will you let me in,
Fred?'

Let him in! It is a mercy he didn't shake his arm off. He was at home in
five minutes. Nothing could be heartier. His niece looked just the same.
So did Topper when _he_ came. So did the plump sister when _she_ came.
So did every one when _they_ came. Wonderful party, wonderful games,
wonderful unanimity, won-der-ful happiness!

But he was early at the office next morning. Oh, he was early there! If
he could only be there first, and catch Bob Cratchit coming late! That
was the thing he had set his heart upon.

And he did it; yes, he did! The clock struck nine. No Bob. A quarter
past. No Bob. He was full eighteen minutes and a half behind his time.
Scrooge sat with his door wide open, that he might see him come into the
tank.

His hat was off before he opened the door; his comforter too. He was on
his stool in a jiffy, driving away with his pen, as if he were trying to
overtake nine o'clock.

'Hallo!' growled Scrooge in his accustomed voice as near as he could
feign it. 'What do you mean by coming here at this time of day?'

'I am very sorry, sir,' said Bob. 'I _am_ behind my time.'

'You are!' repeated Scrooge. 'Yes, I think you are. Step this way, sir,
if you please.'

'It's only once a year, sir,' pleaded Bob, appearing from the tank. 'It
shall not be repeated. I was making rather merry yesterday, sir.'

'Now, I'll tell you what, my friend,' said Scrooge. 'I am not going to
stand this sort of thing any longer. And t