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Updated: June 9, 2025
A broken slate that had blown off the roof, an inch or two of pencil, an old almanac for a reader, several bits of brown or yellow paper ironed smoothly and sewn together for a copy-book, and the copies sundry receipts written in Aunt Plenty's neat hand.
In easy state upon this couch there sat a jolly Giant, glorious to see; who bore a glowing torch, in shape not unlike Plenty's horn, and held it up, high up, to shed its light on Scrooge as he came peeping round the door. 'Come in! exclaimed the Ghost. 'Come in! and know me better, man! Scrooge entered timidly, and hung his head before this Spirit.
He would not let her get up to dinner, but fed her himself, and then forgot his own while he sat watching her fall into a drowse, for Aunt Plenty's cordial made her sleepy.
Jessie has been wondering how you have managed to keep from falling in love with Phebe all this time, and Clara is quite sure that you waited only till she was safe under Aunt Plenty's wing to offer yourself in the good old-fashioned style."
In easy state upon this couch there sat a jolly Giant, glorious to see; who bore a glowing torch, in shape not unlike Plenty's horn, and held it up, high up, to shed its light on Scrooge as he came peeping round the door. "Come in!" exclaimed the Ghost. "Come in! and know me better, man!" Scrooge entered timidly, and hung his head before this Spirit.
Hamilton and Miss Kennedy in my poetic prayers, but you both in prose and verse. May cauld ne'er catch you, but a hap, Nor hunger but in plenty's lap! Amen! XXXV. To MR. JOHN BALLANTINE, BANKER, AT ONE TIME PROVOST OF AYR. EDINBURGH, 13th December 1786.
The Campbells are rather proud of being descendants of Robert the Bruce, but they have common sense and love you dearly, as you'll see tomorrow." "Perhaps." And with a good night kiss, poor Phebe went away, to lie awake till dawn. Anxious to smooth the way for Phebe, Rose was up betimes and slipped into Aunt Plenty's room before the old lady had gotten her cap on.
"Why that is near our house," he said, and quickened his steps. When he got near he saw that all the people's eyes were bent on No. 66. He dashed into the crowd. "What on earth is the matter?" he cried. "The matter? Plenty's the matter, young man," cried one. "Murder's the matter," said another. At that he turned pale as death.
But with all these plums and peaches and rich fruits out of Plenty's horn poured into my lap, I fear I have been but an ingrate; and Hodge, my gatekeeper, who shares his bread and scrap of bacon with a family as large as his master's, seems to me to enjoy his meal as much as I do, though Mrs. Molly prepares her best dishes and sweetmeats, and Mr. Gumbo uncorks the choicest bottle from the cellar.
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