Stave Three（第8/11页）
Built upon a dismal reef of sunken rock，some league or so from shore，and on which the waters chafed and dashed，the wild year through，there stood a solitary lighthouse. Great heaps of seaweed clung to its base，and storm-birds—born of the wind one might suppose，as sea-weed of the water—rose and fell about it，like the waves they skimmed.
But even here，two men who watched the light had made a fire，that through the loophole in the thick stone wall shed out a ray of brightness on the awful sea. Joining their homy hands over the rough table at which they sat，they wished each other Merry Christmas in their can of grog；and one of them—the elder，too，with his face all damaged and scarred with hard weather，as the figure-head of an old ship might be—struck up a sturdy song that was like a gale in itself.
Again the ghost sped on，above the black and heaving sea—on，on—until，being far away，as he told Scrooge，from any shore，they lighted on a ship. They stood beside the helmsman at the wheel，the look-out in the bow，the officers who had the watch；dark，ghostly figures in their several stations；but every man among them hummed a Christmas tune，or had a Christmas thought，or spoke below his breath to his companion of some bygone Christmas Day，with homeward hopes belonging to it. And every man on board，waking or sleeping，good or bad，had had a kinder word for one another on that day than on any day in the year；and had shared to some extent in its festivities；and had remembered those he cared for at a distance，and had known that they delighted to remember him.
It was a great surprise to Scrooge，while listening to the moaning of the wind，and thinking what a solemn thing it was to move on through the lonely darkness over an unknown abyss，whose depths were secrets as profound as death—it was a great surprise to Scrooge，while thus engaged，to hear a hearty laugh. It was a much greater surprise to Scrooge to recognise it as his own nephew’s，and to find himself in a bright，dry，gleaming room，with the spirit standing smiling by his side，and looking at that same nephew with approving affability！
“ Ha，ha！” laughed Scrooge’s nephew. “ Ha，ha，ha！”
If you should happen，by any unlikely chance，to know a man more blessed in a laugh than Scrooge’s nephew，all I can say is，I should like to know him too. Introduce him to me，and I’ll cultivate his acquaintance.
It is a fair，even-handed，noble adjustment of things，that while there is infection in disease and sorrow，there is nothing in the world so irresistibly contagious as laughter and good-humour. When Scrooge’s nephew laughed in this way—holding his sides，rolling his head，and twisting his face into the most extravagant contortions—Scrooge’s niece，by marriage，laughed as heartily as he. And their assembled friends being not a bit behindhand，roared out lustily.
“ Ha，ha！Ha，ha，ha，ha！”
“He said that Christmas was a humbug，as I live！” cried Scrooges nephew. “ He believed it，too！”
“ More shame for him，Fred！” said Scrooge’s niece indignantly. Bless those women；they never do anything by halves. They are always in earnest.
She was very pretty—exceedingly pretty. With a dimpled，surprised-looking，capital face；a ripe little mouth，that seemed made to be kissed—as no doubt it was；all kinds of good little dots about her chin，that melted into one another when she laughed；and the sunniest pair of eyes you ever saw in any little creature’s head. Altogether，she was what you would have called provoking，you know；but satisfactory，too. Oh，perfectly satisfactory.
“He’s a comical old fellow，” said Scrooge’s nephew，“ that’s the truth；and not so pleasant as he might be. However，his offences carry their own punishment，and I have nothing to say against him.”
“ I’m sure he is very rich，Fred，” hinted Scrooge’s niece. “ At least you always tell