In After Years

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After that remarkable Christmas much changed.  Timothy Cratchit  did not die. But nothing could undo the work of that terrible fever that had nearly taken him him two and a half years before, that left him with palsied limbs, weak and withered.  Hobbling more than a few yards on his crude crutch as he dragged along the weight of the iron frame that supported him left him spent.

In the wake of the spectral visitations of that Christmas Eve Scrooge searched out every physician who was said to know anything about conditions like Tim's.  The verdict of them all was the same.  Nothing could cure the boy's palsy.  The best that could be done was to have him make better use of his upper body with a pair of modern crutches.  That, and be fitted with purpose-built calipers for his legs, rather lighter in weight and far more comfortable than the charitable work of the Camden Town blacksmith and leather worker. Almost every doctor Scrooge consulted referred him to the shop of a brace maker who had trained in France and Switzerland, who outfitted Tim with the needed appliances.

Bob Cratchit's more ample salary caused an immediate improvement in the diet of the family.  Tim, now able to make better use of his body, filled out in a wondrous way, all but his legs.  He insisted that everyone quit calling him "Tiny."

Meanwhile Fred and Lily tried persistently to persuade Uncle Ebenezer to move into their family home.  Scrooge, however, was scheming something grander.  Early on a sunny March afternoon Scrooge announced, "Bob, we are closing for the day."

"Excuse me, sir?" Bob Cratchit inquired, unsure of what he had heard.

"Put out a sign to announce that we are closing and will keep regular hours tomorrow, and hail a hansom cab for us."

"Sir...?"

"Just do it, Cratchit."

"Yes, sir." 

Scrooge gave the driver an address in Mayfair, and he and Bob got into the cab.  The change wrought in Scrooge's habitual demeanor since last Christmas had left Bob rather unsure of his employer's mental stability.  No harm had come of it, however; indeed, much good.

The cab pulled up at a house on Audley Street two doors north of St. Mark's Church.  It appeared ample but displayed little of the opulence of grander dwellings on the main thoroughfares of the rapidly developing neighborhood.  Scrooge's nephew Fred and his niece-by-marriage Lily stood at the entrance, apparently awaiting his arrival.  Scrooge alighted and Bob, not knowing what else to do, followed.

Scrooge said, "Fred, Lily, Bob, how would you like to live here?"

Fred said, "Excuse me, Uncle?"

Scrooge said, "I have just purchased this house as a dwelling for all of us:  You and Lily, Bob and your family, and myself.  There is ample room for us all as well as for your maid and cook, Fred, on the top floor."

"Uncle," said Fred, "I hardly know what to say."

"Then say nothing." Scrooge fished a set of keys from his pocket and opened the door.  They found themselves in a generous hallway.  Unfurnished, the house echoed their footsteps as they entered the front hall.  Double doors to the right opened onto a good sized room.  "The parlor," Scrooge announced.  An identical doorway on the left led into an equally capacious room.  "Dining room," said Scrooge.  "The kitchen is back there," he continued as he waved his hand toward a door in the rear wall of the room.  

At the dining room door rose a stairway half the width of the hall that turned right as it met the back wall of the house.  Beneath the second floor landing was a rather wide door.  Scrooge opened it onto a neglected garden.  "I will have this prepared as a space where the children can play."  He opened a door to the right and announced, "This is meant to be a drawing room, but I think it would be better suited for Peter and Tim.  We can decide among the four of us the disposition of the rooms upstairs."

Once settled in Mayfair, the Audley Street household became a happy home to its dozen habitual denizens. Removing from the foul and foggy air and filthy streets of Camden Town did wonders for the Cratchit family's health.  The Reverend Barnabas Clarke, vicar of St. Mark's, lived with his wife and three young sons in the vicarage next door to the church.  Scrooge made his acquaintance early in his negotiations to purchase the house.  The Clarke boys fit neatly in age between Peter and Tim.  The youngest, Thomas, was just Tim's age.  Alas, an incurably twisted limb left him lame from birth, able only to limp along and mostly left out of many pursuits of boys his age.  From the moment they met Thomas and Tim became fast friends.  

With a generous emolument to the vicar's income Scrooge persuaded him to undertake the education of the four younger Cratchit children along with his own sons.  Early on Thomas guided Tim to the door of his father's extensive library.  Tim gazed in wonder at the shelves lined with books of all kinds.  In their childhood he and Thomas spent hours there tasting the wonder the world of books opened to them.  On fine days they became familiar figures to Green Street  neighbors as they would amble to Hyde Park to watch the construction of the Marble Arch or to see who was ranting at the Speakers Corner that day. 

Fred was a successful barrister who had his offices across Audley Street from the house, at the corner of Green.  He was Scrooge's only living relative but had no interest in succeeding his uncle in the counting-house.  In Peter Cratchit, however, Scrooge noted a particular bent for ciphering. He persuaded Bob to let Peter  become his apprentice with an eye to a partnership in due time.  Bob found daily pleasure in having Peter near as he worked. 

Tim and Thomas often dropped by the office of "Uncle Fred" as they took to calling Scrooge's nephew.  Having no children of his own, he welcomed their merry visits.  Sometimes when his work permitted he would accompany them to Hyde Park.  Often he would settle them at a table in his office with a checkerboard and checkers and let them surreptitiously observe him at work with his clients.  When they got to be eight or nine years old he occasionally invited them to go with him to the law courts at Westminster, with ample cautions regarding behavior.  They were a cheery presence anywhere but they did seem to know how to behave in any situation.  Thomas the vicar's son no doubt had needed to master that art early.  Watching Fred don his barrister's wig and robe always tickled them.

Each evening for ten happy years saw the household gathered for supper with Scrooge at the head of the happy table.  He was only ill for a week when he passed one night in his sleep.  The mourners were many.  Scrooge had gained a name for generosity but there was general surprise at how many poor people followed his casket to the grave next to Marley's, in a churchyard much better kept the last ten years.

Life went on.  Tim and Thomas were admitted to the bar after reading the law with Uncle Fred and other well-qualified attorneys to whom he recommended them, Tim as solicitor and Thomas as barrister.  John Clarke, Thomas's older brother, became a physician and married Belinda Cratchit.  Elijah Clarke and the other Cratchit offspring also married well.  Each Christmas the increasingly extended family gathered at Audley Street and toasted the memory of Uncle Ebenezer.  And they lived happily ever after.




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