"Yo Ho! my boys," said Fezziwig. "No more work to-night! Christmas Eve,Dick! Christmas, Ebenezer! Let's have the shutters up!" cried oldFezziwig with a sharp clap of his hands, "before a man can say JackRobinson. . . .""Hilli-ho!" cried old Fezziwig, skipping down from the high desk withwonderful agility. "Clear away, my lads, and let's have lots of roomhere! Hilli-ho, Dick! Cheer-up, Ebenezer!"Clear away! There was nothing they wouldn't have cleared away, orcouldn't have cleared away with old Fezziwig looking on. It was done ina minute. Every movable was packed off, as if it were dismissed frompublic life forevermore; the floor was swept and watered, the lampswere trimmed, fuel was heaped upon the fire; and the warehouse was assnug, and warm, and dry, and bright a ballroom as you would desire tosee on a winter's night.In came a fiddler with a music book, and went up to the lofty desk andmade an orchestra of it and tuned like fifty stomach-aches. In cameMrs. Fezziwig, one vast substantial smile. In came the three MissesFezziwig, beaming and lovable. In came the six followers whose heartsthey broke. In came all the young men and women employed in thebusiness. In came the housemaid with her cousin the baker. In came thecook with her brother's particular friend the milkman. In came the boyfrom over the way, who was suspected of not having board enough fromhis master, trying to hide himself behind the girl from next door butone who was proved to have had her ears pulled by her mistress; in theyall came, anyhow and everyhow. Away they all went, twenty couple atonce; hands half round and back again the other way; down the middleand up again; round and round in various stages of affectionategrouping, old top couple always turning up in the wrong place; new topcouple starting off again, as soon as they got there; all top couplesat last, and not a bottom one to help them.When this result was brought about the fiddler struck up "Sir Roger deCoverley." Then old Fezziwig stood out to dance with Mrs. Fezziwig. Topcouple, too, with a good stiff piece of work cut out for them; three orfour and twenty pairs of partners; people who were not to be trifledwith; people who would dance and had no notion of walking.But if they had been thrice as many--oh, four times as many--oldFezziwig would have been a match for them, and so would Mrs. Fezziwig.As 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 positivelight appeared to issue from Fezziwig's calves. They shone in everypart of the dance like moons. You couldn't have predicted at any giventime what would become of them next. And when old Fezziwig and Mrs.Fezziwig had gone all through the dance, advance and retire; both handsto your partner, bow and courtesy, corkscrew, thread the needle, andback again to your place; Fezziwig "cut"--cut so deftly that heappeared to wink with his legs, and came upon his feet again with astagger.When the clock struck eleven the domestic ball broke up. Mr. and Mrs.Fezziwig took their stations, one on either side of the door, andshaking hands with every person individually, as he or she went out,wished him or her a Merry Christmas!
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