such a bustle ensued that you might have thought a goose the rarest of all birds; and in truth it was something very like it in that house. mrs. cratchit made the gravy (ready beforehand in a little saucepan) hissing hot; master peter mashed the potatoes with incredible vigour; miss belinda sweetened up the apple sauce; martha dusted the hot plates; bob took tiny tim beside him in a tiny corner at the table; the two young cratchits set chairs for everybody, not forgetting themselves, and mounting guard upon their posts, crammed spoons into their mouths, lest they should shriek for goose before their turn came to be helped.
at last the dishes were set on, and grace was said. it was succeeded by a breathless pause, as mrs. cratchit, looking slowly all along the carving-knife, prepared to plunge it in the breast; but when she did, and when the long- expected gush of stuffing issued forth, one mur-mur of delight arose all round the board, and even tiny tim, excited by the young cratchits, beat on the table with the handle of his knife, and feebly cried hurrah!
there never was such a goose. bob said he didn"t believe there ever was such a goose cooked. its tenderness and flavour, size and cheapness, were the themes1 of universal admiration. eked out2 by apple-sauce and mashed potatoes, it was a sufficient dinner for the whole family; indeed, as mrs. cratchit said with great delight (surveying one small atom of a bone upon the dish), they hadn"t eaten it all at last! yet every one had had enough, and the youngest cratchits in particular, were steeped in sage and onions to the eyebrows! but now, the plates being changed by miss belinda, mrs. cratchit left the room alone-too nervous to bear witnesses-to take the pudding up and bring it in.
suppose it should not be done enough! suppose it should break in turning out! suppose somebody should have got over the wall of the back-yard, and stolen it, while they were merry with the goose-a supposition at which the two young cratchits became livid3! all sorts of horrors were supposed.
hallo! a great deal of steam! the pudding was out of thecopper. a smell like a washing day! that was the cloth. a smell like an eating-house and a pastrycook"s next door to each other, with a laundress"s next door to that! that was the pudding! in half a minute mrs. cratchit entered-flushed, but smiling proudly-with the pudding, like a speckled cannon-ball, so hard and firm, blazing in half of half-a- quartern of ignited brandy, and with christmas holly stuck into the top.
oh, a wonderful pudding! bob cratchit said, and calmly too,1themes: things spoken of; subjects.
2eked out: made go farther, increased. 3 became livid: turned pale with fear.
that he regarded it as the greatest success achieved by mrs. cratchit since their marriage. mrs. cratchit said that now the weight was off her mind, she would confess she had had her doubts about the quantity of flour. everybody had something to say about it, but nobody said or thought it was at all a small pudding for a large family. it would have been flat heresy1 to do so. any cratchit would have blushed to hint at such a thing.
at last the dinner was all done, the cloth was cleared, the hearth swept, and the fire made up. the compound in the jug being tasted, and considered perfect, apples and oranges were put upon the table, and a shovelful of chestnuts on the fire. then all the cratchit family drew round the hearth, in what bob cratchit called a circle, meaning half a one; and at bob cratchit"s elbow stood the family display of glass-two tumblers, and a custard-cup without a handle.
these held the hot stuff from the jug, however, as well as golden goblets would have done ; and bob served it out with beaming looks, while the chestnuts on the fire spluttered and cracked noisily. then bob proposed:
"a merry christmas to us all, my dears. god bless us!" which all the family re-echoed.
"god bless us every one!" said tiny tim, the last of all.
-charles dickens
1 flat heresy: a gross departure from the accepted opinion.
