another Dickens parody

This piece appeared in newspapers across the country, evidently syndicated in some way. I've yet to determine who "T. Sapp" the author was.

It's rather silly, but still sort of fun. I like the bit about the doornail and the slang phrases like "I'm on."

Happy New Year!


NEW “CHRISTMAS CAROL.”
—
Not by Charles Dickens, but an Incipient Parody on His Famous Story.
Barley was dead to begin with. He was as dead as a doornail, which must be going some in the dead line, as people have been using a doornail as a simile of death for several centuries. But Smoodge was alive and kicking.
Smoodge kicked particularly against Christmas presents. He didn’t believe in Christmas presents. Barley, his old partner, dead these seven years, hadn’t believed in Christmas presents either.
When Smoodge shut up his warehouse and went home on Christmas eve—he lived in lodgings that had been Barley’s—the doornail assumed an expression which he had never noted there before. The head of that dead doornail resolved itself into the head of Barley.
“Hey, Jacob; I thought you were dead!” cried Smoodge.
“So I am, Ebenezer,” replied the vitalized doornail, “but I’ve come back to warn you that you will be visited at midnight by three ghosts, one after the other. So long, Eb!”
Barley’s ghost again became a dead doornail. Smoodge went to bed and promptly at midnight was awakened by an apparition. It was the first of the three spirits. It seemed to crawl out from under his bed. It danced on the footboard of the bed.
“I am the Ghost of Christmas Present Past,” said the spirit.
“You look to me like one of those slippers my niece gave me last year,” said Smoodge.
“You win,” said the ghost and vanished.
Presently the second spirit arrived, doing a merry dance over the washstand.
“You look to me like another slipper,” said Smoodge.
“I am the Ghost of Christmas Present Present,” said the spirit.
“Ha, I see!” said Smoodge. “You’re one of the slippers my niece is going to give me this year.”
Whereat Spirit No. 2 smiled and vamoosed.
In a jiffy the third of the promised spirits came in. It jumped upon the bed and slapped Smoodge in the face.
“I’m on,” said Smoodge; “you’re another slipper.”
“I am the Ghost of Christmas Present Future,” said the spirit sepulchrally.
“Yes, I know,” remarked Smoodge. “My niece will present you and your mate to me next Christmas. Because I’m an old man she never sends me anything but slippers. But these ghostly visits have taught me a lesson. Hereafter I’ll be a better man. I’ll give my niece a Chantecler hat instead of the usual pair of gloves, and maybe next time she’ll give me a silk topper.” T. SAPP.
Blue Hill Leader [NE]. December 2, 1910: 8.