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<h2> I. CHRISTMAS AT FEZZIWIG'S WAREHOUSE </h2>
<h3> CHARLES DICKENS </h3>
<p>"Yo Ho! my boys," said Fezziwig. "No more work to-night! Christmas Eve,
Dick! Christmas, Ebenezer! Let's have the shutters up!" cried old Fezziwig
with a sharp clap of his hands, "before a man can say Jack Robinson...."</p>
<p>"Hilli-ho!" cried old Fezziwig, skipping down from the high desk with
wonderful agility. "Clear away, my lads, and let's have lots of room here!
Hilli-ho, Dick! Cheer-up, Ebenezer!"</p>
<p>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 movable 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 on a winter's night.</p>
<p>In came a fiddler with a music book, and went up to the lofty desk and
made an orchestra of it and tuned like fifty stomach-aches. In came Mrs.
Fezziwig, one vast substantial smile. In came the three Misses Fezziwig,
beaming and lovable. In came the six 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 came the cook with her brother's
particular friend the milkman. In came the boy from over the way, who was
suspected of not having board enough from his master, trying to hide
himself behind the girl from next door but one who was proved to have had
her ears pulled by her mistress; in they all came, anyhow and everyhow.
Away they all went, twenty couple at once; hands half round and back again
the other way; down the middle and up again; round and round in various
stages of affectionate grouping, old top couple always turning up in the
wrong place; 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.</p>
<p>When this result was brought about the fiddler 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; three or
four and twenty pairs of partners; people who were not to be trifled with;
people who would dance and had no notion of walking.</p>
<p>But if they had been thrice as many—oh, four times as many—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
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
courtesy, 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 with a stagger.</p>
<p>When the clock struck eleven the 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!</p>
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