Want more? Advanced embedding details, examples, and help! For more information or to volunteer to read books, poetry, and other works in the public domain, please visit www. Download M4B 89MB. Reviewer: Krisgoat - favorite favorite favorite favorite - December 1, Subject: Love it! Lovely Christmas story and read very well! Except for Stave 4 where the reader was apparently falling asleep. Reviewer: grunge - favorite favorite favorite favorite favorite - November 22, Subject: First class I am a janitor at a small school in the Dandenong Ranges near Melbourne Australia.
Each year i listen to this rendition and enjoy it very much. I upload it on my walkman about the last week of November and listen to a stave each day. The wonderful voice of Kayra and the others bring the story to life. I laugh at some bits such as "ITs your your uncle scroooge!
It was a long night, if it were only a night; but Scrooge had his doubts of this, because the Christmas holidays appeared to be condensed into the space of time they passed together. It was strange, too, that, while Scrooge remained unaltered in his outward form, the Ghost grew older, clearly older. The time is drawing near. Is it a foot or a claw? They knelt down at its feet, and clung upon the outside of its garment. Look, look, down here!
They were a boy and girl. Yellow, meagre, ragged, scowling, wolfish; but prostrate, too, in their humility. Where graceful youth should have filled their features out, and touched them with its freshest tints, a stale and shrivelled hand, like that of age, had pinched, and twisted them, and pulled them into shreds.
Where angels might have sat enthroned, devils lurked, and glared out menacing. No change, no degradation, no perversion of humanity, in any grade, through all the mysteries of wonderful creation, has monsters half so horrible and dread.
Scrooge started back, appalled. Having them shown to him in this way, he tried to say they were fine children, but the words choked themselves, rather than be parties to a lie of such enormous magnitude. This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want. Beware of them both, and all of their degree, but most of all beware this boy, for on his brow I see that written which is Doom, unless the writing be erased.
Deny it! Admit it for your factious purposes, and make it worse! And bide the end! Scrooge looked about him for the Ghost, and saw it not. As the last stroke ceased to vibrate, he remembered the prediction of old Jacob.
When it came near him, Scrooge bent down upon his knee; for in the very air through which this Spirit moved it seemed to scatter gloom and mystery. It was shrouded in a deep black garment, which concealed its head, its face, its form, and left nothing of it visible, save one outstretched hand. But for this, it would have been difficult to detach its figure from the night, and separate it from the darkness by which it was surrounded.
He felt that it was tall and stately when it came beside him, and that its mysterious presence filled him with a solemn dread. He knew no more, for the Spirit neither spoke nor moved. The Spirit answered not, but pointed onward with its hand. That was the only answer he received. Although well used to ghostly company by this time, Scrooge feared the silent shape so much that his legs trembled beneath him, and he found that he could hardly stand when he prepared to follow it.
But Scrooge was all the worse for this. It thrilled him with a vague uncertain horror to know that, behind the dusky shroud, there were ghostly eyes intently fixed upon him, while he, though he stretched his own to the utmost, could see nothing but a spectral hand and one great heap of black. But, as I know your purpose is to do me good, and as I hope to live to be another man from what I was, I am prepared to bear you company, and do it with a thankful heart.
Will you not speak to me? The hand was pointed straight before them. The night is waning fast, and it is precious time to me, I know. Lead on, Spirit! Scrooge followed in the shadow of its dress, which bore him up, he thought, and carried him along. They scarcely seemed to enter the City; for the City rather seemed to spring up about them, and encompass them of its own act. The Spirit stopped beside one little knot of business men.
Observing that the hand was pointed to them, Scrooge advanced to listen to their talk. Suppose we make up a party, and volunteer? Bye, bye! Scrooge knew the men, and looked towards the Spirit for an explanation. The Phantom glided on into a street. Its finger pointed to two persons meeting. Scrooge listened again, thinking that the explanation might lie here. He knew these men, also, perfectly.
They were men of business: very. He had made a point always of standing well in their esteem: in a business point of view, that is; strictly in a business point of view. You are not a skater, I suppose?
Something else to think of. Good morning! That was their meeting, their conversation, and their parting. Scrooge was at first inclined to be surprised that the Spirit should attach importance to conversations apparently so trivial; but, feeling assured that they must have some hidden purpose, he set himself to consider what it was likely to be. Nor could he think of any one immediately connected with himself, to whom he could apply them.
But nothing doubting that, to whomsoever they applied, they had some latent moral for his own improvement, he resolved to treasure up every word he heard, and everything he saw; and especially to observe the shadow of himself when it appeared. For he had an expectation that the conduct of his future self would give him the clue he missed, and would render the solution of these riddles easy.
He looked about in that very place for his own image, but another man stood in his accustomed corner, and, though the clock pointed to his usual time of day for being there, he saw no likeness of himself among the multitudes that poured in through the Porch.
It gave him little surprise, however; for he had been revolving in his mind a change. Quiet and dark, beside him stood the Phantom, with its outstretched hand. When he roused himself from his thoughtful quest, he fancied, from the turn of the hand, and its situation in reference to himself, that the Unseen Eyes were looking at him keenly.
It made him shudder, and feel very cold. They left the busy scene, and went into an obscure part of the town, where Scrooge had never penetrated before, although he recognised its situation and its bad repute. The ways were foul and narrow; the shops and houses wretched; the people half naked, drunken, slipshod, ugly. Alleys and archways, like so many cesspools, disgorged their offences of smell, and dirt, and life upon the straggling streets; and the whole quarter reeked with crime, with filth and misery.
Far in this den of infamous resort, there was a low-browed, beetling shop, below a pent-house roof, where iron, old rags, bottles, bones, and greasy offal were bought. Upon the floor within were piled up heaps of rusty keys, nails, chains, hinges, files, scales, weights, and refuse iron of all kinds. Secrets that few would like to scrutinise were bred and hidden in mountains of unseemly rags, masses of corrupted fat, and sepulchres of bones. Sitting in among the wares he dealt in, by a charcoal stove made of old bricks, was a grey-haired rascal, nearly seventy years of age, who had screened himself from the cold air without by a frouzy curtaining of miscellaneous tatters hung upon a line, and smoked his pipe in all the luxury of calm retirement.
Scrooge and the Phantom came into the presence of this man, just as a woman with a heavy bundle slunk into the shop. But she had scarcely entered, when another woman, similarly laden, came in too, and she was closely followed by a man in faded black, who was no less startled by the. After a short period of blank astonishment, in which the old man with the pipe had joined them, they all three burst into a laugh.
Stop till I shut the door of the shop. How it skreeks! Come into the parlour. The old man raked the fire together with an old stair-rod, and, having trimmed his smoky lamp for it was night with the stem of his pipe, put it into his mouth again. While he did this, the woman who had already spoken threw her bundle on the floor, and sat down in a flaunting manner on a stool; crossing her elbows on her knees, and looking with a bold defiance at the other two.
What odds, Mrs. He always did! Dilber and the man together. Not a dead man, I suppose? Dilber, laughing. Open that bundle, old Joe, and let me know the value of it. Speak out plain. We knew pretty well that we were helping ourselves before we met here, I believe. Open the bundle, Joe. It was not extensive. A seal or two, a pencil-case, a pair of sleeve-buttons, and a brooch of no great value, were all. They were severally examined and appraised by old Joe, who chalked the sums he was disposed to give for each upon the wall, and added them up into a total when he found that there was nothing more to come.
Dilber was next. Sheets and towels, a little wearing apparel, two old-fashioned silver tea-spoons, a pair of sugar-tongs, and a few boots. Her account was stated on the wall in the same manner. Joe went down on his knees for the greater convenience of opening it, and, having unfastened a great many knots, dragged out a large heavy roll of some dark stuff. He frightened every one away from him when he was alive, to profit us when he was dead!
Ha, ha, ha! The case of this unhappy man might be my own. My life tends that way now. Merciful Heaven, what is this? The room was very dark, too dark to be observed with any accuracy, though Scrooge glanced round it in obedience to a secret impulse, anxious to know what kind of room it was.
A pale light, rising in the outer air, fell straight upon the bed: and on it, plundered and bereft, unwatched, unwept, uncared for, was the body of this man. Scrooge glanced towards the Phantom. Its steady hand was pointed to the head. He thought of it, felt how easy it would be to do, and longed to do it; but had no more power to withdraw the veil than to dismiss the spectre at his side. Oh, cold, cold, rigid, dreadful Death, set up thine altar here, and dress it with such terrors as thou hast at thy command: for this is thy dominion!
But of the loved, revered, and honoured head thou canst not turn one hair to thy dread purposes, or make one feature odious. Strike, Shadow, strike!
And see his good deeds springing from the wound, to sow the world with life immortal! He thought, if this man could be raised up now, what would be his foremost thoughts?
Avarice, hard dealing, griping cares? They have brought him to a rich end, truly! He lay, in the dark, empty house, with not a man, a woman, or a child to say he was kind to me in this or that, and for the memory of one kind word I will be kind to him.
A cat was tearing at the door, and there was a sound of gnawing rats beneath the hearth-stone. What they wanted in the room of death, and why they were so restless and disturbed, Scrooge did not dare to think. In leaving it, I shall not leave its lesson, trust me. Let us go! But I have not the power, Spirit. I have not the power. I beseech you. She was expecting some one, and with anxious eagerness; for she walked up and down the room; started at every sound; looked out from the window; glanced at the clock; tried, but in vain, to work with her needle; and could hardly bear the voices of her children in their play.
At length the long-expected knock was heard. She hurried to the door, and met her husband; a man whose face was careworn and depressed, though he was young. There was a remarkable expression in it now; a kind of serious delight of which he felt ashamed, and which he struggled to repress.
He sat down to the dinner that had been hoarding for him by the fire, and, when she asked him faintly what news which was not until after a long silence , he appeared embarrassed how to answer. There is hope yet, Caroline. Nothing is past hope, if such a miracle has happened. She prayed forgiveness the next moment, and was sorry; but the first was the emotion of her heart. He was not only very ill, but dying, then.
But, before that time, we shall be ready with the money; and, even though we were not, it would be bad fortune indeed to find so merciless a creditor in his successor. We may sleep to-night with light hearts, Caroline!
Soften it as they would, their hearts were lighter. The only emotion that the Ghost could show him, caused by the event, was one of pleasure. Very quiet. The noisy little Cratchits were as still as statues in one corner, and sat looking up at Peter, who had a book before him. The mother and her daughters were engaged in sewing. But surely they were very quiet! He had not dreamed them. The boy must have read them out, as he and the Spirit crossed the threshold.
Why did he not go on? The colour? Ah, poor Tiny Tim! It must be near his time. So had all. And there is your father at the door! His tea was ready for him on the hob, and they all tried who should help him to it most. He looked at the work upon the table, and praised the industry and speed of Mrs. Cratchit and the girls. They would be done long before Sunday, he said. You went to-day, then, Robert? It would. I promised him that I would walk there on a Sunday. My little, little child!
If he could have helped it, he and his child would have been farther apart, perhaps, than they were. He left the room, and went up-stairs into the room above, which was lighted cheerfully, and hung with Christmas. There was a chair set close beside the child, and there were signs of some one having been there lately.
Poor Bob sat down in it, and, when he had thought a little and composed himself, he kissed the little face. He was reconciled to what had happened, and went down again quite happy. They drew about the fire, and talked; the girls and mother working still. Bob told them of the extraordinary kindness of Mr. Pray come to me. It really. But, however and whenever we part from one another, I am sure we shall none of us forget poor Tiny Tim— shall we—or this first parting that there was among us?
Cratchit kissed him, his daughters kissed him, the two young Cratchits kissed him, and Peter and himself shook hands. Spirit of Tiny Tim, thy childish essence was from God! I know it, but I know not how.
Tell me what man that was whom we saw lying dead? Indeed, the Spirit did not stay for anything, but went straight on, as to the end just now desired, until besought by Scrooge to tarry for a moment. I see the house. Let me behold what I shall be in days to come. Scrooge hastened to the window of his office, and looked in.
It was an office still, but not his. The furniture was not the same, and the figure in the chair was not himself. The Phantom pointed as before. He joined it once again, and, wondering why and whither he had gone, accompanied it until they reached an iron gate. He paused to look round before entering. A churchyard. Here, then, the wretched man, whose name he had now to learn, lay underneath the ground. It was a worthy place. A worthy place! The Spirit stood among the graves, and pointed down to One.
He advanced towards it trembling. The Phantom was exactly as it had been, but he dreaded that he saw new meaning in its solemn shape. Are these the shadows of the things that Will be, or are they shadows of the things that May be only?
Say it is thus with what you show me! The finger pointed from the grave to him, and back again. Oh no, no! I am not the man I was. I will not be the man I must have been but for this intercourse. Why show me this, if I am past all hope? Assure me that I yet may change these shadows you have shown me by an altered life? I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me.
I will not shut out the lessons that they teach. Oh, tell me I may sponge away the writing on this stone! It sought to free itself, but he was strong in his entreaty, and detained it. The Spirit, stronger yet, repulsed him. It shrunk, collapsed, and dwindled down into a bedpost. The bed was his own, the room was his own. Best and happiest of all, the Time before him was his own, to make amends in! Oh, Jacob Marley! Heaven and the Christmas Time be praised for this! I say it on my knees, old Jacob; on my knees!
He had been sobbing violently in his conflict with the Spirit, and his face was wet with tears. They are here—I am here—the shadows of the things that would have been may be dispelled. They will be. I know they will! I am as giddy as a drunken man. A merry Christmas to everybody! A happy New Year to all the world! Hallo here! The father of a long, long line of brilliant laughs! Never mind. Clash, clash, hammer; ding, dong, bell!
Bell, dong, ding; hammer, clang, clash! Oh, glorious, glorious! Running to the window, he opened it, and put out his head. No fog, no mist; clear, bright, jovial, stirring, cold; cold, piping for the blood to dance to; Golden sun-light; Heavenly sky; sweet fresh air; merry bells.
Oh, glorious! The Spirits have done it all in one night. They can do anything they like. Of course they can. Hallo, my fine fellow! Yes, my buck! He must have had a steady hand at a trigger who could have got a shot off half so fast. As he stood there, waiting his arrival, the knocker caught his eye. What an honest expression it has in its face! How are you?
He never could have stood upon his legs, that bird. But, if he had cut the end of his nose off, he would have put a piece of sticking-plaster over it, and been quite satisfied. The people were by this time pouring forth, as he had seen them with the Ghost of Christmas Present; and, walking with his hands behind him, Scrooge regarded every one with a delighted smile.
A merry Christmas to you! I hope you succeeded. It was very kind of you. A merry Christmas to you, sir! Allow me to ask your pardon. Scrooge, are you serious? A great many back- payments are included in it, I assure you. Will you do me that favour?
Will you come and see me? And it was clear he meant to do it. I thank you fifty times. Bless you! He had never dreamed that any walk—that anything—could give him so much happiness. He passed the door a dozen times before he had the courage to go up and knock.
But he made a dash, and did it. Nice girl! They were looking at the table which was spread out in great array ; for these young housekeepers are always nervous on such points, and like to see that everything is right. Dear heart alive, how his niece by marriage started! Your uncle Scrooge. I have come to dinner. Will you let me in, Fred?
He was at home in five minutes. Nothing could be heartier. His niece looked just the same. So did Topper when he came. So did the plump sister when she came. So did every one when they came. Wonderful party, wonderful games, wonderful unanimity, won-der-ful happiness!
But he was early at the office next morning. Oh, he was early there! If he could only be there first, and catch Bob Cratchit coming late!
That was the thing he had set his heart upon. And he did it; yes, he did! The clock struck nine. No Bob. A quarter past. He was full eighteen minutes and a half behind his time. Scrooge sat with his door wide open, that he might see him come into the tank.
His hat was off before he opened the door; his comforter too. He was on his stool in a jiffy; driving away with his pen, as if he were trying to. I think you are. Step this way, sir, if you please. I was making rather merry yesterday, sir. He had a momentary idea of knocking Scrooge down with it, holding him, and calling to the people in the court for help and a strait-waistcoat.
Make up the fires and buy another coal-scuttle before you dot another i, Bob Cratchit! Scrooge was better than his word. He became as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a man as the good old City. Some people laughed to see the alteration in him, but he let them laugh, and little heeded them; for he was wise enough to know that nothing ever happened on this globe, for good, at which some people did not have their fill of laughter in the outset; and, knowing that such as these would be blind anyway, he thought it quite as well that they should wrinkle up their eyes in grins as have the malady in less attractive forms.
His own heart laughed: and that was quite enough for him. He had no further intercourse with Spirits, but lived upon the Total- Abstinence Principle ever afterwards; and it was always said of him that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge. The first edition of the novel was published in December 17th , and was written by Charles Dickens.
The book was published in multiple languages including , consists of 44 pages and is available in Paperback format. The main characters of this classics, fiction story are Christopher Marlowe, Ebenezer Scrooge.
The book has been awarded with Audie Award for Classic , and many others. Please note that the tricks or techniques listed in this pdf are either fictional or claimed to work by its creator. We do not guarantee that these techniques will work for you. Some of the techniques listed in A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens may require a sound knowledge of Hypnosis, users are advised to either leave those sections or must have a basic understanding of the subject before practicing them.
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