Dickens's Christmas Books - complete online versions

The Christmas Carol, The Chimes, Cricket On the Hearth, Battle Of Life
& The Haunted Man & the Ghosts's Bargain with Illustrations.

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THE CHIMES.                                             89
Steps at all times, because of the sitting down; but they're rheumatic in the damp."
" Then here," said Meg, clapping her hands, after a moment's bustle; " here it is, all ready ! And beautiful it looks ! Come, father. Come!"
Since his discovery of the contents of the basket, Trotty had been standing looking at her—and had been speaking too—in an abstracted manner, which showed that though she was the object of his thoughts and eyes, to the exclusion even of tripe, he neither saw nor thought about her as she was at that moment, but had before him some imaginary rough sketch or drama of her future life. Roused, now, by her cheerful summons, he shook off a melancholy shake of the head which was just coming upon him, and trotted to her side. As he was stooping to sit down, the Chimes rang.
"Amen!" said Trotty, pulling off his hat and looking up towards them.
"Amen to the Bells, father?" cried Meg.
" They broke in like a grace, my dear," said Trotty, taking his seat. " They'd say a good one, I am sure, if they could. Many's the kind thing they say to me."
" The Bells do, father!" laughed Meg, as she set the basin, and a knife and fork, before him. "Well!"
"Seem to, my Pet," said Trotty, falling to with great vigour. "And where's the difference? If I hear 'em, what does it matter whether they speak it or not ? Why bless you, my dear," said Toby, pointing at the tower with his fork, and becoming more animated under the influence of dinner, " how often have I heard them bells say, ' Toby Veck, Toby Veck, keep a good heart Toby ! Toby Veck, Toby Veck, keep a good heart Toby!' A million times ? More !"
" Well, I never ! " cried Meg.
She had, though—over and over again. For it was Toby's constant topic.
" When things is very bad," said Trotty; " very bad indeed, I mean ; almost at the worst; then it's ■ Toby Veck, Toby Veck, job coming soon, Toby! Toby Veck, Toby Veck, job coming soon, Toby !' That way."
"And it comes—at last, father," said Meg, with a touch of sadness in her pleasant voice.
" Always," answered the unconscious Toby. " Never fails."
While this discourse was holding, Trotty made no pause in his attack upon the savoury meat before him, but cut and ate, and cut and drank, and cut and chewed, and dodged about, from tripe to
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