Narrator/Scrooge (2:48)

Hilly, ho. Clear away, my lads, and let's have lots of room here. Hilly ho, Dick. Cheer up, Ebenezer.

Ghost of Christmas Past (2:57)

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 Moveable 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 a ballroom as 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, and tuned like 50 stomach aches. In came Mrs. Fezziwig one vast substantial smile. In came the three Ms. Fezziwigs, beaming and lovable. In came the six young followers whose hearts they broke. In came all the young men and women employed in the business. In came the housemaid with her cousin the baker. 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, 20 couples at once, hands half round and back again the other way. New top couple starting off again as soon as they got there. All top couples at last, and not a bottom one to help them. When this result was brought about, old Fezziwig, clapping his hands to stop the dance, cried out.

Narrator/Scrooge (4:36)

Well done.

Ghost of Christmas Past (4:38)

And the fiddler plunged his hot face into a pot of porter, especially provided for that purpose. But scorning rest upon his reappearance, he instantly began again, though there were no dances yet, as if the other fiddler had been carried home exhausted on a shutter, and he were a brand new man resolved to beat him out of sight or perish. There were more dances, and there were forfeits and more dances, and there was cake and there was negus, and there was a great piece of cold roast, and there was a great piece of cold boiled, and there were mince pies and plenty of beer. But the great effect of the evening came after the roast and boiled, when the fiddlers struck up Sir Roger de Coverley. Then old Fezziwig stood out to dance with Mrs. Fezziwig. Top couple too, with a good stiff piece of work cut out for them. 3 or 4 and 20 pair of partners, people who were not to be trifled with, people who would dance and had no notion of walking.

Narrator/Scrooge (5:34)

1, 2, 3, up and up and up we go.

Ghost of Christmas Past (5:40)

But if they had been twice as many, ah, four times, old Fezziwig would have been a match for them, and so would Mrs. Fezziwig, as to her she was worthy to be his partner in every sense of the term. If that's not high praise, tell me higher and I'll use it. A positive light appeared to issue from Fezziwig's calves. They shone in every part of the dance like moons. You couldn't have predicted at any given time what would have become of them next. And when old Fezziwig and Mrs. Fezziwig had gone all through the dance. Advance and retire. Both hands to your partner. Bow and curtsy. Corkscrew. Thread the needle and back again to your place. Fezziwig. Cut. Cut so deftly that he appeared to wink with his legs and came upon his feet again without a stagger. When the clock struck 11, this domestic ball broke up. Mr. And Mrs. Fezziwig took their stations, one on either side of the door and shaking hands with every person individually as he or she went out, wished him or her a Merry Christmas.

Narrator/Scrooge (6:42)

Merry Christmas.

Ghost of Christmas Past (6:43)

William. Your mother.

Narrator/Scrooge (6:45)

We're so sad. You can't couldn't make it. But next week she'll be round. Yes.

Ghost of Christmas Past (6:49)

When everybody had retired but the two prentices, they did the same to them. And thus the cheerful voices died away. During the whole of this time, Scrooge had acted like a man out of his wits. His heart and soul were in the scene, and with his former self he corroborated everything, remembered everything, enjoyed everything, and underwent the strangest agitation. It was not until now, when the bright faces of his former self and Dick were turned from them, that he remembered the ghost and became conscious that it was looking full upon him while the light upon its head burnt very clear. A small matter to make these silly folks so full of gratitude. Small. Listen. The ghost motioned Scrooge to listen to his former self and prentice as the lads were left to their beds, which were under a counter in the back shop. Did you see him? Did you? Well, I never thought I would see Fezziwig dance like that. You would never guess it, his being behind that desk all this while. I had heard stories, but never anything like that. Mr. Fezziwig. What a man of munificence. What a giant of generosity. A cornucopia of kindness. A lavisher of liberality. A good man, Mr. Fezziwig. May his name ring through our history as the personification of hospitality and generosity. Why is it not a small matter? He has spent but a few pounds of your mortal money. Three or four, perhaps. Is that so much that he deserves this praise?

Narrator/Scrooge (8:34)

It isn't that. It isn't that. Spirit. He has the power to render us happy or unhappy, to make our service light or burdensome, a pleasure or a toil. Say that his power lies in words and looks, in things so slight and insignificant that it is impossible to add and count them up. What then? The happiness he gives is quite as great as if it cost a fortune.

Ghost of Christmas Past (9:01)

What is the matter?

Narrator/Scrooge (9:05)

Nothing particular.

Ghost of Christmas Past (9:07)

Something, I think.

Narrator/Scrooge (9:09)

No, no, I. I should like to be able to say a word or two to my clerk just now, that's all.

Ghost of Christmas Past (9:17)

His former self turned down the lamps as he gave utterance to the wish, and Scrooge and the ghost again stood side by side in the open air.

Narrator/Scrooge (9:35)

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