!" said Scrooge to himself. "I haven't missed it. The
Spirits have done it all in one night. They can do anything they like.
Of course they can. Of course they can. Hallo, my fine fellow?"

"Hallo!" returned the boy.

"Do you know the Poulterer's, in the next street but one, at the
corner?" Scrooge inquired.

"I should hope I did," replied the lad.

"An intelligent boy!" said Scrooge. "A remarkable boy! Do you know
whether they've sold the prize turkey that was hanging up there?--Not
the little prize turkey, the big one?"

"What, the one as big as me?" said the boy.

"What a delightful boy!" said Scrooge. "It's a pleasure to talk to him.
Yes, my buck!"

"It's hanging there now," replied the boy.

"Is it?" said Scrooge. "Go and buy it."

"WALK-ER!" exclaimed the boy.

"No, no," said Scrooge, "I am in earnest. Go and buy it and tell 'em to
bring it here, that I may give them the direction where to take it. Come
back with the man, and I'll give you a shilling. Come back with him in
less than five minutes, and I'll give you half-a-crown!"

The boy was off like a shot. He must have had a steady hand at the
trigger who could have got a shot off half so fast.

"I'll send it to Bob Cratchit's," whispered Scrooge, rubbing his hands,
and splitting with a laugh. "He shan't know who sends it. It's twice the
size of Tiny Tim. Joe Miller never made such a joke as sending it to
Bob's will be!"

The hand in which he wrote the address was not a steady one, but write
he did, somehow, and went down-stairs to open the street door, ready for
the coming of the Poulterer's man. As he stood there, waiting his
arrival, the knocker caught his eye.

"I shall love it as long as I live!" cried Scrooge, patting it with his
hand. "I scarcely ever looked at it before. What an honest expression it
has in its face! It's a wonderful knocker!--Here's the turkey. Hallo!
Whoop! How are you? Merry Christmas!"

It _was_ a turkey! He could never have stood upon his legs, that bird.
He would have snapped 'em off short in a minute, like sticks of
sealing-wax.

"Why, it's impossible to carry that to Camden Town," said Scrooge. "You
must have a cab."

The chuckle with which he said this, and the chuckle with which he paid
for the turkey, and the chuckle with which he paid for the cab, and the
chuckle with which he recompensed the boy, were only exceeded by the
chuckle with which he sat down breathlessly in his chair again, and
chuckled till