SCENE III.--_Fezziwig's Ball, full depth of stage,

representing a wareroom. Fezziwig and Mrs. Fezziwig L., the former standing and clapping his hands, and the latter seated in an arm-chair, manifesting delight. Old bald-headed fiddler, on an elevated seat, at the back. Dick Wilkins, with two Miss Fezziwigs, forward to right and back. Scrooge's former self advances and retires to the partners, with fancy steps: hands around; right and left; ladies change; balance; promenade. Other characters to fill up the picture. Laughter and merriment to follow Scrooge's speech._

_Spir._ Do you know it?

_Scro._ Know it! I was apprenticed here. Why, its old Fezziwig. Bless his heart; its Fezziwig alive again, and Mrs Fezziwig, too. Dick Wilkins, to be sure, with Fezziwig's two daughters. Bless me, yes. There he is. He was very much attached to me, was Dick. Poor Dick. And see me, cutting the pigeon-wing. Dear, dear, dear!

(_Dance comes to an end amid general hilarity and merriment, and the scene closes in._)

_Spir._ A small matter to make these silly folks so full of gratitude.

_Scro._ Small! Why, old Fezziwig was one of the best men that ever lived. He never missed giving his employees a Christmas ball.

_Spir._ Why, is it not! He spent but a few pounds of money--three or four pounds, perhaps--. Is that so much that he deserves your praise?

_Scro._ It isn't that, Spirit. He had the power to render us happy or unhappy; to make our services light or burdensome; a pleasure or a toil. Say that his power lives in words and looks; in things so light and unsignificant that it is impossible to add and count 'em up; what then? The happiness he gives is quite as great if it cost a fortune--oh, dear.

_Spir._ What is the matter?

_Scro._ Nothing, particular.

_Spir._ Something, I think.

_Scro._ No, no. I should like to be able to say a word or two to my clerk, just now, that's all.

_Spir._ My time grows short, let us hurry on. Do you remember this? (_Waves wand._)