y began again, though
there were no dancers yet, as if the other fiddler had been carried
home, exhausted, on a shutter; and he were a bran-new man resolved to
beat him out of sight, or perish.

There were more dances, and there were forfeits, and more dances, and
there was cake, and there was negus, and there was a great piece of
Cold Roast, and there was a great piece of Cold Boiled, and there were
mince-pies, and plenty of beer. But the great effect of the evening
came after the Roast and Boiled, when the fiddler (an artful dog,
mind! The sort of man who knew his business better than you or I could
have told it him!) 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
pair of partners; people who were not to be trifled with; people who
_would_ dance, and had no notion of walking.

But if they had been twice as many: ah, four times: old Fezziwig would
have been a match for them, and so would Mrs. Fezziwig. As

[Illustration: Original manuscript of Page 25.]

[Illustration: Verso of original manuscript Page 26.]

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 'em next. And when old Fezziwig and
Mrs. Fezziwig had gone all through the dance; advance and retire, hold
hands with your partner; bow and curtsey; 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 without a
stagger.

When the clock struck eleven, this domestic ball broke up. Mr. and
Mrs. Fezziwig took their stations, one on either side the door, and
shaking hands with every person individually as he or she went out,
wished him or her a Merry Christmas. When everybody had retired but
the two 'prentices, they did the same to them; and thus the cheerful
voices died away, and the lads were left to their beds; which were
under a counter in the back-shop.

During the whole of this time, Scrooge had acted like a man out of his
wits. His heart and soul were in the scene, and with his former self.
He corroborated everything, remembered everything, enjoyed everything,
a