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answered appeared arms asked assistant better body called certainly CHAPTER child Christmas close common course cried dark dear Doctor door doubt drop exclaimed eyes face father feel figure fire give green half hand head heard heart hope human it's Jack Kezia Lady least leave less light live look ma'am master mean mind mother nature never night nurse once parish passed perhaps persons poor Postle present replied rest returned round Secret seemed Shackle shilling short side silver soon sound spirit step Street strong suppose sure surgery there's thing thought took turned twins Uncle Rumbold voice walked wall whisper whole widow wish woman young
Page 206 - The bleak wind of March Made her tremble and shiver; But not the dark arch, Or the black flowing river: Mad from life's history, Glad to death's mystery, Swift to be hurled — Anywhere, anywhere Out of the world!
Page 205 - Who was her father? Who was her mother? Had she a sister? Had she a brother? Or was there a dearer one Still, and a nearer one Yet, than all other?
Page 94 - Oh! But he was a tight-fisted hand at the grindstone, Scrooge! a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous, old sinner! Hard and sharp as flint, from which no steel had ever struck out generous fire; secret, and self-contained, and solitary as an oyster.
Page 100 - ... gush of stuffing issued forth, one murmur of delight arose all round the board, and even Tiny Tim, excited by the two young Cratchits, beat on the table with the handle of his knife, and feebly cried, Hurrah!
Page 204 - One more Unfortunate, Weary of breath, Rashly importunate Gone to her death! Take her up tenderly, Lift her with care; Fashion'd so slenderly, Young and so fair! Look at her garments Clinging like cerements; Whilst the wave constantly Drips from her clothing: Take her up instantly, Loving, not loathing. Touch her not scornfully; Think of her mournfully. Gently and humanly; Not of the stains of her, All that remains of her Now is pure womanly.
Page 30 - Oh! but to breathe the breath Of the cowslip and primrose sweet. With the sky above my head, And the grass beneath my feet; For only one short hour To feel as I used to feel, Before I knew the woes of want, And the walk that costs a meal! " Oh, but for one short hour ! A respite, however brief! — No blessed leisure for love or hope, But only time for grief! A little weeping would ease my heart, But in their briny bed My tears must stop, for every drop Hinders needle and thread...
Page 100 - Martha dusted the hot plates; Bob took Tiny Tim beside him in a tiny corner at the table; the two young Cratchits set chairs for everybody, not forgetting themselves, and mounting guard upon their posts, crammed spoons into their mouths, lest they should shriek for goose before their turn came to be helped.
Page 207 - Out of the world ! In she plunged boldly, No matter how coldly The rough river ran, — Over the brink of it, Picture it — think of it, Dissolute Man ! Lave in it, drink of it Then, if you can...