Charlie Was Dead: Dickens

Charlie was dead Charlie was dead: to begin with, There is no doubt whatever about that. I leave my residue to Carol for Christmas and Little Dorrit his faithful Tom Cat. There’s been hard times here in Bleak House, Villainy and miserly crime capers, I spent my fortune in shops of curiosity, Pickwick wrote of it, in his gossip papers. You gather here with great expectations, Of bequeaths, chattels and yield. But listen well to my loyal Trustees, Messrs Chuzzlewit and Copperfield. To that twister and Street Urchin Oliver, and to show I bear him no grudge, I do leave a Crown and one Farthing, and a sixpence to Barnaby Rudge. To our mutual friends Dombey and Son, Please accept my cane and fine silk scarf. May you prosper all the year round, As comfortable as a Cricket on a hearth. So, here is my last Will and Testament, Yes, I’m worthless, so whimper and brood. Where did it all go, there is no mystery, Lost at Cards to Nickleby and Drood. KS 6/11/2017