Chapter V. THE END OF THINGS
Fabric seemed to be his world as he found himself tangled in a muddle of cloth. He struggled with it until he found himself awake in his bedroom, alone and sitting on the floor. Outside the windows, light shone through and snow lightly drew downwards, the only hindrance of a glorious sun pouring into the place.
He sat in awesome wonder of where he was and what he was thinking.
YES! The room was his own, the bed-curtains were his own, and the chairs and his suit and his body and his mind were all to his own, and he exclaimed triumphantly.
"I shall live in Hearth's Warming by the spirits all three, past, present and future! Oh Derpy Hooves you old goat, bless you! Derpe and Hearth's Warming and the Fire be praised, what a glorious day!" he bounded about his room in exaltation of so many years bottled cheer that had waited so long to explode.
"I don't know what to do!" cried McCrooge, laughing and crying in the same breath, making a foal of himself with his nightgown. "I'm as light as a feather! I'm as happy as an angel! As giddy as a filly!"
He stopped then and noticed how the chair had still be overturned, and how his watch rested outside its usual place in a drawer.
"There's the chair I jumped, and My stars, my watch! It all did happen so, it was not just a dre-!" he slipped on what appeared to be a remnant square of blue party paper on the floor near the door. In excitement he threw open the door to see if the Ghost of Hearth's Warming Present was there, but she was not. Through it showed the same stairwell that had always been, McCrooge was not despondent by the revelation. He still picked up the paper and threw it in the air as if it were a hearty thrust of flower pedals to be thrown at a wedding, laughing as he did it.
"Ha ha! Ha ha ha!"
For a stallion who had been out of practice for so many years, it was a splendid, most illustrious laugh. The father in all likelihood of a long line of brilliant laughs, which his nephew inheireted.
His laughter stopped when he heard the choir of bells that rang out the city. He skipped and trotted to the window and threw up the pane to hear its glory. The lustiest peals he had ever heard, resonating in bold and full and in every color and timbre imaginable, from all directions. The heavenly sky, the golden sun, the sweet fresh air of the morning, merry bells and the feel of so much joy to be had in the day's rise, oh glorious he regarded it.
Suddenly, McCrooge realized that he knew not what day it was. He had no idea the time or the year because of his time with the Spirits. A small colt ran by, adorned by a glengarry and in a green scarf, and the stallion called out to him.
"You there! You, foal!"
The colt stopped and looked up.
"What, me?"
"Yes you! What day is today?"
"Today is Hearth's Warming! Where've you been at!" he said in a facetious hark.
It was Hearth's Warming Day! McCrooge hadn't missed it, and of course any Spirit could do as they wished in a single night only. Of course they could! And then the stallion several ideas all at the same time, which tickled him pink.
"Do you know the Confectioners in the next street at the corner?"
"'Torteys', That I do sir!"
"A remarkable colt, an intelligent lad." commended McCrooge honestly. "Do you know if they've sold the grand cake in the window?"
"The one as big as me? It's still there."
"It is? Go and buy it!"
"Nuts!" said the colt, and started to run.
"No, no, I'm serious my lad! I'll pay you for your trouble! Buy it and bring it here so I can have it brought where I wish to take it. Come with the baker and I'll give you half a Cent-bit! Come back in five minutes and I'll give you two full!"
The colt dashed away in the blink of an eye and was off like a shot. McCrooge rubbed his hooves with mischievous delight.
"I'll send it to Rupert Right's!" he said, splitting a laugh. "He shan't know who sends it. It's thrice the size of Sweetie Belle!"
The hand which wrote the address was not a steady one, but write it he did somehow, and he readied himself in his best clothes, finest stovepipe top hat and a gray scarf. He exited his front door and turned to lock it before noticing the door knocker. It had never struck him how well made it was, with intricate detail woven into its crests and a shape of a wreath of olive branches.
"A marvellous device! I shall love it as long as I live!" cried McCrooge, patting it with his hoof. "A wonderful knocker. Merry Hearth's Warming!"
Then came the colt with two lanky looking yellow ponies with him, carrying an enormous cake. It seemed to be incarnate jove and zoe of a party, detailed with every conceivable frill, stripe and puff of cream and coating, and the two stallions carrying it made it just rise over the top of McCrooge's head.
"Why it's impossible to carry that to Caspian Town. You'll need a cab, that much is certain." Said McCrooge, examining the cake.
The chuckle with which he said this, and the chuckle which he paid for the cake, and the chuckle with which he recompensed the colt (with generous disregard for if the cake had arrived in five minutes or not), were only to be exceeded by the chuckle that came when he sat down on the stair of his house, and chuckled until he cried.
He started down the street towards a new destination, and well-met everypony he saw on the street, heartily encouraging a "Merry Hearth's Warming and a Happy New Year!" Those who recognized his face were taken with surprise greater than any gift could bestow when the expression on his face was one they had never seen before, he liable to crack a self grinning thusly. He walked past his old counting house, the office of his enterprise, and said.
"Hoovton & McCrooge?" It sent a pang across his heart to think how the old gentlepony would regard him now, or how they would meet were his now-self to greet the Hoovton he knew before he died. But McCrooge knew what path lay straight before him, and he took it. It was not long until he saw a group of stallions in red scarves and among them was the portly gentlepony from the day before that had the courage and pluck to enter his office. Without wasting a moment, McCrooge trotted up to him and shook his hoof vigorously.
"How do you do? I hope you succeeded yesterday. It was very kind of you, Merry Hearth's Warming."
"m-Mr. McCrooge?"
"Yes," said McCrooge. "That is my name and I fear it may not be pleasant to you. Allow me to ask your pardon, and, er, would you have the goodness to…-" and McCrooge whispered in his ear. The gentlepony was taken aback with eyes widened.
"Bless't Celestia!" he exclaimed.
"And I won't have it not a bit less." said McCrooge, his face searing with joy. "I great many back-payments are included, I assure you. Would you have it then?"
They talked to themselves some before returning their gaze upon McCrooge in awe.
"Dear sir," said one other stallion. "I don't know what to say to such munif-" His reply interrupted by a strong shake of the hoof by McCrooge.
"We'll talk of it later then?"
"Shall we!" said the portly one.
"Oh there is one thing…-" said McCrooge, extricating his scarf. "May I?"
He traded it then with another one of the stallions, feeling none the warmer but all the merrier for his worn decoration of the rich red scarf.
"Thank ye," said McCrooge. "I am much obliged to you, I thank you a hundred times. Bless you!"
He went to church, and walked about the streets, and watched people hurrying to and fro, patted the heads of young colts and fillies, questioned beggars, looked down the kitchens of houses and up to the windows, and found that everything could yield him pleasure. He had never imagined that such a simple walk could give him such happiness. By afternoon he turned his steps towards his nephew's house.
He passed the door a dozen times, before he had the courage to go up and knock. But he made a dash and did it:
"Is your master at home, my dear?" Said McCrooge to the servant that attended the door. A very nice filly, he noticed.
"Yes sir."
"Where is he? He knows me, I'm his uncle."
"This way, sir." And she led him to the door of the dining room, wonderous décor reminiscent of the party he recalled from the room at the top of a stair, and then he looked up, seeing the same chandelier. McCrooge smiled and returned looking forwards to the door. He turned the knob gently and slowly with all of the hesitation of times past coming to bear on the effort of that moment, which seemed all defeated by the simple constancy of his joy.
"Cripe!" said McCrooge.
Dear heart alive, how his niece by marriage started at the surprise. If he had but known her timidity in reaction, he would not have bellowed so, but the deed was already done.
"Why bless my soul!" cried Cripe. "Uncle McCrooge!"
"I hope you can forgive an old codger like me, Cripe. I'd very much like to be able to take up your invitation t-!" In seemingly one deft motion, Caramel had left his handkerchief and cutlery at the table, jumped up and dove over to his beloved Uncle and it was a mercy he didn't shake his hoof off!
He was at home in five minutes, and no party could have been heartier. Wonderful games, wonderful unanimity, friendship, singing, drinks and treats and it lasted all of the day until the festive ending upon which they lit a grand fire in the house's hearth with logs of pine and blessed by their merriment. All didn't know and all did not care, least of which Cripe, as to what had become of the greedy coot which they knew of McCrooge, and why this new rambunctious stallion had taken his place. But now oh so appropriately he bore the red of his coat that now seemed so festive.
But he was early at the office the next morning, oh how early was he. If he could be there first, and catch Rupert Right coming late, that would be such of the best things. If he were late! That was what McIntosh had set his heart upon.
Time ticked by, and presently it came the third quarter of eight. No Right. Then came the nine, and Right still had not arrived. At this, McCrooge giggled himself silly as a filly, knowing that in his former state he would feel just to have been retiring Rupert, but oh no, such mirth had McIntosh. A quarter past. He was full eighteen minutes and a half behind his time when a very quiet push of the door came. McIntosh was subtle with his effort to look up without being noticed that Rupert was trying to sneak in undetected, until Rupert realized that he must either stamp his hooves to remove the snow from them, or risk tracking them indoors.
"Late, Rupert Right?" growled McCrooge in his accustomed voice, as near as he could feign it. "What do you mean by coming here at this time of day?"
"I'm very sorry, sir." said Rupert. "I am behind my time."
"Indeed you are," repeated McCrooge. "Step this way, Mr. Right."
Very sullen and shamefully, Rupert walked to the doorway of his employer's office as McIntosh stood and stepped right into being face to face with the young stallion.
"Please sir, it's only once a year. It shan't be repeated. I was making rather merry yesterday, sir."
"Now I'll tell you what, my friend," said McCrooge, his tone raising with disagreement. "I am not going to stand for this sort of thing any longer. And therefore," he bent forward, intimidating Right mightily. "I have no choice but to raise your salary!"
Rupert's face was locked in fear until he stopped to comprehend the words his master had just said. He became flummoxed as to if his employer was having him be a toy to his emotions for the sarcastic jibe, and confused to whether or not he was serious. This took but a moment until McIntosh burst out laughing, which confused Rupert all the more.
"Merry Hearth's Warming, Rupert!" said McIntosh with an earnestness that could not be mistaken, as he clapped the fellow on the back. "A merrier Hearth's Warming than I've ever given you for many a year. I'll raise your salary, and shall endeavour to assist your struggling family and we shall discuss the affairs this afternoon over a hearty box of some turkish delight and cocoa. I think I'd much like to help your station, my friend, and your lovely daughter and wife."
Rupert's face seemed incapable of expressing what he felt, in utter surprise and joy. Insuch he seemed frozen with happiness, before he was able to make a very weak and ecstatic,
"T-thank you sir!" and he shook McIntosh's hoof energetically.
"And you look cold in there, my young clark. Buy another coal scuttle, go and hurry! Before you dot another i, Rupert Right!"
McCrooge was better than his word. He did it all and infinitely more; and to the young Sweetie Belle, who did NOT die, he was a second father. He became as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a stallion as the old city knew, or any other city, town or borough, in the good old world. Some people laughed to see the alteration in him, but he let them laugh, and little heeded them; for he was wise enough to know that nothing ever happened on this globe, for good, at which some people did not have their fill of laughter in the outset. His own heart laughed, and that was quite enough for him.
He had no further intercourse with Spirits but lived on in total abstinence ever afterwards, and it was always said of him that he knew how to keep Hearth's Warming well, if any pony possessed such the knowledge. May it be truly said of any pony and all of us! Celestia bless it and Luna keep it how he came to be such a good creature in all the land.
The End.