said Fezziwig. “No more work to-night. Christmas-eve, Dick. Christmas, Ebenezer! Let's have the shutters up,” cried old Fezziwig with a sharp clap of his hands, “before a man can say Jack Robinson!”

You wouldn't believe how those two fellows went at it! They charged into the street with the shutters — one, two, three — had 'em up in their places — four, five, six — barred 'em and pinned 'em — seven, eight, nine — and came back before you could have got to twelve, panting like race-horses.

“Hilli-ho!” cried old Fezziwig, skipping down from the high desk with wonderful agility. “Clear away, my lads, and let's have lots of room here! Hilli-ho, Dick! Chirrup, Ebenezer!”

Clear