Journeys through Bookland : a new and original plan for reading applied to the world's best literature for children . mbarrassing explanation. Butthe Ghost sat down on the opposite side of the fire-place, as if he were quite used to it. Y,ou dont believe in me, observed the Ghost. I dont, said Scrooge. What evidence would you have of my realitybeyond that of your senses? I dont know, said Scrooge. Why do you doubt your senses? Because, said Scrooge, a little thing affectsthem. A slight disorder of the stomach makes themcheats. You may be an undigested bit of beef, ablot of mustard, a crumb of
Journeys through Bookland : a new and original plan for reading applied to the world's best literature for children . mbarrassing explanation. Butthe Ghost sat down on the opposite side of the fire-place, as if he were quite used to it. Y,ou dont believe in me, observed the Ghost. I dont, said Scrooge. What evidence would you have of my realitybeyond that of your senses? I dont know, said Scrooge. Why do you doubt your senses? Because, said Scrooge, a little thing affectsthem. A slight disorder of the stomach makes themcheats. You may be an undigested bit of beef, ablot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment ofan underdone potato. Theres more of gravy thanof grave about j^ou, whatever you are! Scrooge was not much in the habit of crackingjokes, nor did he feel, in his heart, by any meanswaggish then. The truth is, that he tried to be A Christmas Cauoi- 263 smart, as a means of distracting his own attention,and keeping down his terror; for tlie spectres voicedisturbed the very marrow in his l)ones. To sit staring at those fixed, glazed eyes in silencefor a moment, would play, Scrooge felt, the very. IN LIFE I WAS YOUR PARTNER, JACOB MARLEY deuce with him. There was something very awful,too, in the spectres being provided with an infernalatmosphere of its own. Scrooge could not feel ithimself, but this was clearly the case; for thoughthe Ghost sat perfectly motionless, its hair, and 264 A Christmas Carol skirts, and tassels, were still agitated as by the hotvapour from an oven. You see this toothpick? said Scrooge, return-ing quickly to the charge, for the reason justassigned; and wishing, though it were only for asecond, to divert the visions stony gaze from himself. I do, replied the Ghost. You are not looking at it, said Scrooge. But I see it, said the Ghost, notwithstanding. Well! returned Scrooge. I have but to swal-low this, and be for the rest of my days persecutedby a legion of goblins, all of my own creation. Hum-bug, I tell you—humbug! At this the spiri
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