THE CHILDRENS BOOK OF CHRISTMAS STORIES
THE CHILDRENâS BOOK OF CHRISTMAS STORIES I. CHRISTMAS AT FEZZIWIGâS WAREHOUSE CHARLES DICKENS âYo Ho! my boys,â said Fezziwig. âNo more work to-night! Christmas Eve, Dick! Christmas, Ebenezer! Letâs have the shutters up!â cried old Fezziwig with a sharp clap of his hands, âbefore a man can say Jack Robinson. . . .â âHilli-ho!â cried old Fezziwig, skipping down from the high desk with wonderful agility. âClear away, my lads, and letâs have lots of room here! Hi lli-ho, Dick! Cheer-up, Ebenezer!â Clear away! There was nothing they wouldnât have cleared away, or couldnât 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 winterâs night.
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