title: a-christmas-carol.txt.
when I live in such a world
of fools as this? Merry Christmas! Out upon merry Christmas! What's
Christmas-time to you but a time for paying bills without money; a time
for finding yourself a year older, and not an hour richer; a time for
balancing your books, and having every item in 'em through a round dozen
of months presented dead against you? If I could work my will,' said
Scrooge indignantly, 'every idiot who goes about with "Merry Christmas"
on his lips should be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a
stake of holly through his heart. He should!'

'Uncle!' pleaded the nephew.

'Nephew!' returned the uncle sternly, 'keep Christmas in your own way,
and let me keep it in mine.'

'Keep it!' repeated Scrooge's nephew. 'But you don't keep it.'

'Let me leave it alone, then,' said Scrooge. 'Much good may it do you!
Much good it has ever done you!'

'There are many things from which I might have derived good, by which I
have not profited, I dare say,' returned the nephew; 'Christmas among
the rest. But I am sure I have always thought of Christmas-time, when
it has come round--apart from the veneration due to its sacred name and
origin, if anything belonging to it can be apart from that--as a good
time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time; the only time I know
of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one
consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people
below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and
not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. And therefore,
uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I
believe that it _has_ done me good and _will_ do me good; and I say, God
bless it!'

The clerk in the tank involuntarily applauded. Becoming immediately
sensible of the impropriety, he poked the fire, and extinguished the
last frail spark for ever.

'Let me hear another sound from _you_,' said Scrooge, 'and you'll keep
your Christmas by losing your situation! You're quite a powerful
speaker, sir,' he added, turning to his nephew. 'I wonder you don't go
into Parliament.'

'Don't be angry, uncle. Come! Dine with us to-morrow.'

Scrooge said that he would see him----Yes, indeed he did. He went the
whole length of the expression, and said that he would see him in that
extremity first.

'But why?' cried Scrooge's nephew. 'Why?'

'Why did you get married?' said Scrooge.

'Because I fell in love.'

'Because you fell in love!' growled Scrooge, as if that were the only
one thing in the world more ridiculous than a merry Christmas. 'Good
afternoon!'

'Nay, uncle, but you never came to see me before that happened. Why give
it as a reason for not coming now?'

'Good afternoon,' said Scrooge.

'I want nothing from you; I ask nothing of you; why cannot we be
friends?'

'Good afternoon!' said Scrooge.

'I am sorry, with all my heart, to find you so resolute. We have never
had any quarrel to which I have been a party. But I have made the trial
in homage to Christmas, and I'll keep my Christmas humour to the last.
So A Merry Christmas, uncle!'

'Good afternoon,' said Scrooge.

'And A Happy New Year!'

'Good afternoon!' said Scrooge.

His nephew left the room without an angry word, notwithstanding. He
stopped at the outer door to bestow the greetings of the season on the
clerk, who, cold as he was, was warmer than Scrooge; for he returned
them cordially.

'There's another fellow,' muttered Scrooge, who overheard him: 'my
clerk, with fifteen shillings a week, and a wife and family, talking
about a merry Christmas. I'll retire to Bedlam.'

This lunatic, in letting Scrooge's nephew out, had let two other people
in. They were portly gentlemen, pleasant to behold, and now stood, with
their hats off, in Scrooge's office. They had books and papers in their
hands, and bowed to him.

'Scrooge and Marley's, I believe,' said one of the gentlemen, referring
to his list. 'Have I the pleasure of addressing Mr. Scrooge, or Mr.
Marley?'

'Mr. Marley has been dead these seven years,' Scrooge replied. 'He died
seven years ago, this very night.'

'We have no doubt his liberality is well represented by his surviving
partner,' said the gentleman, presenting his credentials.

[Illustration: THEY WERE PORTLY GENTLEMEN, PLEASANT TO BEHOLD]

It certainly was; for they had been two kindred spirits. At the ominous
word 'liberality' Scrooge frowned, and shook his head, and handed the
credentials back.

'At this festive season of the year, Mr. Scrooge,' said the gentleman,
taking up a pen, 'it is more than usually desirable that we should make
some slight provision for the poor and destitute, who suffer greatly at
the present time. Many thousands are