Let's see who's under the tree:
"A Merry Fitzmas to us all, my dears. God bless us."
Which all the staff re-echoed.
"God bless us every one.' said Tiny Scooter, the last of all.
He sat very close to his boss's side upon his little stool. Dick held his withered little hand in his, as if he loved the child, and wished to keep him by his side, and dreaded that he might be taken from him.
"Spirit," said Bush, with an interest he had never felt before, "tell me if Tiny Scooter will escape justice."
"I see a vacant seat," replied the Ghost of Conspiracies Present, "in a White House chimney-corner, and a crutch without an owner, carefully preserved. If these shadows remain unaltered by the Future, the child will be indicted."
"No, no," said Bush. "Oh, no, kind Spirit. Say he will be spared."
"If these shadows remain unaltered by Fitzgerald, none other of my race will find him here," replied the Ghost. "But so what? Aren't you the one who said that if somebody leaked classified information, they'd no longer work in your administration?"
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