Charles Dickens: A Christmas Carol

Stave 2: The First of the Three Spirits (continued)

As the words were spoken, they passed through the wall, and stood upon an open country road, with fields on either hand. The city had entirely vanished. Not a vestige of it was to be seen. The darkness and the mist had vanished with it, for it was a clear, cold, winter day, with snow upon the ground.

`Good Heaven!' said Scrooge, clasping his hands together, as he looked about him. `I was bred in this place. I was a boy here.'

The Spirit gazed upon him mildly. Its gentle touch, though it had been light and instantaneous, appeared still present to the old man's sense of feeling. He was conscious of a thousand odours floating in the air, each one connected with a thousand thoughts, and hopes, and joys, and cares long, long, forgotten.

`Your lip is trembling,' said the Ghost. `And what is that upon your cheek.'

Scrooge muttered, with an unusual catching in his voice, that it was a pimple; and begged the Ghost to lead him where he would.

`You recollect the way.' inquired the Spirit.

`Remember it.' cried Scrooge with fervour; `I could walk it blindfold.'

`Strange to have forgotten it for so many years.' observed the Ghost. `Let us go on.'

They walked along the road, Scrooge recognising every gate, and post, and tree; until a little market-town appeared in the distance, with its bridge, its church, and winding river. Some shaggy ponies now were seen trotting towards them with boys upon their backs, who called to other boys in country gigs and carts, driven by farmers. All these boys were in great spirits, and shouted to each other, until the broad fields were so full of merry music, that the crisp air laughed to hear it.

`These are but shadows of the things that have been,' said the Ghost. `They have no consciousness of us.'