Marley was dead: to begin with. The

Marley was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it. And Scrooge's name was good upon 'Change, for anything he chose to put his hand to. Old Marley was as dead as a door-nail.Mind! I don't mean to say that I know, of my own knowledge, what there is particularly dead about a door-nail. I might have been inclined, myself, to regard a coffin-nail as the deadest piece of ironmongery in the trade. But the wisdom of our ancestors is in the simile; and my unhallowed hands shall not disturb it, or the Country's done for. You will therefore permit me to repeat, emphatically, that Marley was as dead as a door-nail.Scrooge knew he was dead? Of course he did. How could it be otherwise? Scrooge and he were partners for I don't know how many years. Scrooge was his sole executor, his sole administrator, his sole assign, his sole residuary legatee, his sole friend, and sole mourner. And even Scrooge was not so dreadfully cut up by the sad event, but that he was an excellent man of business on the very day of the funeral, and solemnised it with an undoubted bargain.The mention of Marley's funeral brings me back to the point I started from. There is no doubt that Marley was dead. This must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate. If we were not perfectly convinced that Hamlet's Father died before the play began, there would be nothing more remarkable in his taking a stroll at night, in an easterly wind, upon his own ramparts, than there would be in any other middle-aged gentleman rashly turning out after dark in a breezy spot -- say Saint Paul's Churchyard for instance -- literally to astonish his son's weak mind.Scrooge never painted out Old Marley's name. There it stood, years afterwards, above the ware-house door: Scrooge and Marley. The firm was known as Scrooge and Marley. Sometimes people new to the business called Scrooge Scrooge, and sometimes Marley, but he answered to both names. It was all the same to him.Oh! But he was a tight-fisted hand at the grindstone, Scrooge! a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous old sinner! Hard and sharp as flint, from which no steel had ever struck out generous fire; secret, and self-contained, and solitary as an oyster. The cold within him froze his old features, nipped his pointed nose, shrivelled his cheek, stiffened his gait; made his eyes red, his thin lips blue; and spoke out shrewdly in his grating voice. A frosty rime was on his head, and on his eyebrows, and his wiry chin. He carried his own low temperature always about with him; he iced his office in the dog-days; and didn't thaw it one degree at Christmas.External heat and cold had little influence on Scrooge. No warmth could warm, no wintry weather chill him. No wind that blew was bitterer than he, no falling snow was more intent upon its purpose, no pelting rain less open to entreaty. Foul weather didn't know where to have him. The heaviest rain, and snow, and hail, and sleet, could boast of the advantage over him in only one respect. They often came down handsomely, and Scrooge never did.Nobody ever stopped him in the street to say, with gladsome looks, ''My dear Scrooge, how are you. When will you come to see me.'' No beggars implored him to bestow a trifle, no children asked him what it was o'clock, no man or woman ever once in all his life inquired the way to such and such a place, of Scrooge. Even the blindmen's dogs appeared to know him; and when they saw him coming on, would tug their owners into doorways and up courts; and then would wag their tails as though they said, ''No eye at all is better than an evil eye, dark master! ''But what did Scrooge care! It was the very thing he liked. To edge his way along the crowded paths of life, warning all human sympathy to keep its distance, was what the knowing ones call nuts to Scrooge.Once upon a time -- of all the good days in the year, on Christmas Eve -- old Scrooge sat busy in his counting-house. It was cold, bleak, biting weather: foggy withal: and he could hear the people in the court outside, go wheezing up and down, beating their hands upon their breasts, and stamping their feet upon the pavement stones to warm them. The city clocks had only just gone three, but it was quite dark already: it had not been light all day: and candles were flaring in the windows of the neighbouring offices, like ruddy smears upon the palpable brown air. The fog came pouring in at every chink and keyhole, and was so dense without, that although the court was of the narrowest, the houses opposite were mere phantoms. To see the dingy cloud come drooping down, obscuring everything, one might have thought that Nature lived hard by, and was brewing on a large scale.The door of Scrooge's counting-house was open that he might keep his eye upon his clerk, who in a dismal little cell beyond, a sort of tank, was copying letters. Scrooge had a very small fire, but the clerk's fire was so very much smaller that it looked like one coal. But he couldn't replenish it, for Scrooge kept the coal-box in his own room; and so surely as the clerk came in with the shovel, the master predicted that it would be necessary for them to part. Wherefore the clerk put on his white comforter, and tried to warm himself at the candle; in which effort, not being a man of a strong imagination, he failed.''A merry Christmas, uncle! God save you!'' cried a cheerful voice. It was the voice of Scrooge's nephew, who came upon him so quickly that this was the first intimation he had of his approach.''Bah!'' said Scrooge, ''Humbug!''He had so heated himself with rapid walking in the fog and frost, this nephew of Scrooge's, that he was all in a glow; his face was ruddy and handsome; his eyes sparkled, and his breath smoked again.''Christmas a humbug, uncle!'' said Scrooge's nephew. ''You don't mean that, I am sure.''''I do,'' said Scrooge. ''Merry Christmas! What right have you to be merry? what reason have you to be merry? You're poor enough.''''Come, then,'' returned the nephew gaily. ''What right have you to be dismal? what reason have you to be morose? You're rich enough.''Scrooge having no better answer ready on the spur of the moment, said, ''Bah!'' again; and followed it up with ''Humbug.''''Don't be cross, uncle,'' said the nephew.''What else can I be,'' returned the uncle, ''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, but 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 greeting of the season on the clerk, who, cold as he was, was warmer than Scrooge; for he returned them c

Marley was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it. And Scrooge's name was good upon 'Change, for anything he chose to put his hand to. Old Marley was As Dead As a Door-Nail. Mind! I do not mean to say that I know, of my own knowledge, what there is particularly dead about a door-nail. I might have been inclined, myself, to regard a coffin-nail as the deadest piece of ironmongery in the trade. But the wisdom of our ancestors is in the simile; and my unhallowed hands shall not disturb it, or the Country's done for. You Will Permit ME to Repeat Therefore, Emphatically, that Marley was As Dead As a Door-Nail. Scrooge was Knew He Dead? Of course he did. How could it be otherwise? Scrooge and he were partners for I do not know how many years. Scrooge was his sole executor, his sole administrator, his sole assign, his sole residuary legatee, his sole friend, and sole mourner. And Even Scrooge was Not So dreadfully Cut up by The Sad event, but that He was an excellent MAN of business on The very Day of The Funeral, and solemnized it with an undoubted Bargain. The mention of Marley's Funeral brings ME back to The Point. I started from. There is no doubt that Marley was dead. This must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate. If we were not perfectly convinced that Hamlet's Father died before the play began, there would be nothing more remarkable in his taking a stroll at night, in an easterly wind, upon his own ramparts, than there would be in any other middle-aged gentleman. Turning out rashly in a Breezy Spot After Dark - Say Saint Paul's Churchyard for instance - literally to Astonish His Son's weak Mind. Scrooge never Painted out Old Marley's name. There it stood, years afterwards, above the ware-house door: Scrooge and Marley. The firm was known as Scrooge and Marley. Sometimes people new to the business called Scrooge Scrooge, and sometimes Marley, but he answered to both names. It was all The Same to Him. Oh! But he was a tight-fisted hand at the grindstone, Scrooge! a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous old sinner! Hard and sharp as flint, from which no steel had ever struck out generous fire; secret, and self-contained, and solitary as an oyster. The cold within him froze his old features, nipped his pointed nose, shrivelled his cheek, stiffened his gait; made his eyes red, his thin lips blue; and spoke out shrewdly in his grating voice. A frosty rime was on his head, and on his eyebrows, and his wiry chin. He carried his own low temperature always about with him; he iced his office in the dog-days; One Degree and did Not Thaw it at Christmas. External Heat and cold had Little influence on Scrooge. No warmth could warm, no wintry weather chill him. No wind that blew was bitterer than he, no falling snow was more intent upon its purpose, no pelting rain less open to entreaty. Foul weather did not know where to have him. The heaviest rain, and snow, and hail, and sleet, could boast of the advantage over him in only one respect. They often Came down handsomely, and Scrooge never did. Nobody Ever stopped Him in The Street to Say, with gladsome Looks, `` My dear Scrooge, How are You. When will you come to see me. '' No beggars implored him to bestow a trifle, no children asked him what it was o'clock, no man or woman ever once in all his life inquired the way to such and such a place,. of Scrooge. Even the blindmen's dogs appeared to know him; and when they saw him coming on, would tug their owners into doorways and up courts; and then would wag their tails as though they said, `` No eye at all is better than an evil eye, dark master! '' But What did Scrooge Care! It was the very thing he liked. His Way to EDGE Crowded Along The Paths of Life, Human Sympathy Warning all ITS Distance to Keep, What was The Knowing Ones Nuts call to Scrooge. Once upon a time - The good of all days in The year, on Christmas Eve -. old Scrooge sat busy in his counting-house. It was cold, bleak, biting weather: foggy withal: and he could hear the people in the court outside, go wheezing up and down, beating their hands upon their breasts, and stamping their feet upon the pavement stones to warm them. The city clocks had only just gone three, but it was quite dark already: it had not been light all day: and candles were flaring in the windows of the neighbouring offices, like ruddy smears upon the palpable brown air. The fog came pouring in at every chink and keyhole, and was so dense without, that although the court was of the narrowest, the houses opposite were mere phantoms. To See The dingy cloud Come drooping down, Obscuring Everything, One Might Have Thought that Nature lived Hard by, and was Brewing on a Large Scale. The Door of Scrooge's Counting-House was Open that He Might Keep His Eye upon His clerk, Who. in a dismal little cell beyond, a sort of tank, was copying letters. Scrooge had a very small fire, but the clerk's fire was so very much smaller that it looked like one coal. But he could not replenish it, for Scrooge kept the coal-box in his own room; and so surely as the clerk came in with the shovel, the master predicted that it would be necessary for them to part. Wherefore the clerk put on his white comforter, and tried to warm himself at the candle; in which Effort, Not being a MAN of a strong Imagination, He failed. `` A Merry Christmas, Uncle! God save you! '' Cried a cheerful voice. It was The Voice of Scrooge's Nephew, Who Came upon Him So Quickly that this was The First intimation He had of His Approach. `` Bah! '' said Scrooge, `` Humbug! '' He had So heated himself with Rapid Walking in. the fog and frost, this nephew of Scrooge's, that he was all in a glow; his face was ruddy and handsome; His eyes sparkled, and His Breath Again smoked. `` Christmas a humbug, Uncle! '' said Scrooge's Nephew. `` You do Not mean that, I AM sure. '' `` I do, '' said Scrooge. `` Merry Christmas! What right have you to be merry? what reason have you to be merry? You're poor Enough. '' `` Come, then, '' Returned The Nephew gaily. `` What right have you to be dismal? what reason have you to be morose? You're rich Enough. '' Scrooge having no answer ready on The Better SPUR of The Moment, said, `` Bah! '' Again; and followed it up with `` Humbug. '' `` Do Not be Cross, Uncle, '' The Nephew said. `` What Else Can I be, '' Returned The Uncle, `` 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, but 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 Not Keep You do it. '' `` Let ME leave it alone, then, '' said Scrooge. `` Much good may it do you! Much good it has done Ever You! '' `` There are many Things I Might Have from which derived good, by which I profited Have Not, 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, The Last Frail and extinguished Spark for Ever. `` Let ME another sound Hear 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 do Not Go Into Parliament. '' `` Do Not be Angry, Uncle. Come! Dine with Us to-MORROW. '' said Scrooge See Him that He would - 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 Before that Happened ME. Why Give a Reason for Not Coming As it now? '' `` Good Afternoon, '' said Scrooge. `` Nothing I Want from You; I ask nothing of you; Not Why Can 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 greeting of the season on the clerk, who, cold as he was, was warmer than Scrooge; for he returned them c

Marley was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by, the clergyman. The, undertaker clerk the, the and chief mourner. Scrooge signed it. And Scrooge 's name was good upon' Change for anything,, He chose to put his hand to. Old Marley was as dead as a door-nail.

! I Mind don 't mean to say that I know of my own knowledge,,What there is particularly dead about a door-nail. I might have, been inclined myself to regard, a coffin-nail as the deadest. Piece of ironmongery in the trade. But the wisdom of our ancestors is in the simile; and my unhallowed hands shall not disturb. It or the, Country 's done for. You will therefore permit me, to repeat emphatically that Marley, was as dead as a door-nail.

.Scrooge knew he was dead? Of course he did. How could it be otherwise? Scrooge and he were partners for I don 't know how. Many years. Scrooge was his sole executor his administrator, sole, sole, his assign his sole residuary legatee his sole,, Friend and sole, mourner. And even Scrooge was not so dreadfully cut up by the, sad eventBut that he was an excellent man of business on the very day of, the funeral and solemnised it with an undoubted bargain.

The. Mention of Marley 's funeral brings me back to the point I started from. There is no doubt that Marley was dead. This must. Be distinctly understood or nothing, wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate.If we were not perfectly convinced that Hamlet 's Father died before the play began there would, be nothing more remarkable. In his taking a stroll, at night in an easterly wind upon his, own ramparts than there, would be in any other middle-aged. Gentleman rashly turning out after dark in a breezy spot - say Saint Paul 's Churchyard for instance - literally to astonish. His son 's weak mind.

.Scrooge never painted out Old Marley 's name. There, it stood years afterwards above the, ware-house door: Scrooge and, Marley. The firm was known as Scrooge and Marley. Sometimes people new to the business called Scrooge Scrooge and sometimes Marley,,, But he answered to both names. It was all the same to him.

! But Oh he was a tight-fisted hand at, the grindstone Scrooge!! A squeezing wrenching,,,,, grasping scraping clutching covetous old sinner! Hard and sharp, as flint from which no steel had ever struck out generous. Fire; secret and, solitary, self-contained and as an oyster. The cold within him froze his, old features nipped his pointed. Nose shrivelled his, cheek stiffened his, gait; made his eyes red his thin, lips blue; and spoke out shrewdly in his grating. Voice.A frosty rime was on, his head and on his eyebrows and his, wiry chin. He carried his own low temperature always about. With him; he iced his office in the dog - days; and didn 't thaw it one degree at Christmas.

External heat and cold had little. Influence on Scrooge. No warmth, could warm no wintry weather chill him. No wind that blew was bitterer, than heNo falling snow was more intent upon its purpose no pelting, rain less open to entreaty. Foul weather didn 't know where. To have him. The rain heaviest, snow and, hail and, sleet and, boast could of the advantage over him in only one, respect. They often came down handsomely and Scrooge, never did.

Nobody ever stopped him in the street to say with gladsome looks,,, "My dear Scrooge how are, you.When will you come to see me. '' No beggars implored him to bestow, a trifle no children asked him what it was o, clock. ' No man or woman ever once in all his life inquired the way to such and such, a place of Scrooge. Even the blindmen s dogs. ' Appeared to know him; and when they saw him coming on would tug, their owners into doorways and up courts;And then would wag their tails as though, they said "No eye at all is better than an, evil eye dark master! ''

But what. Did Scrooge care! It was the very thing he liked. To edge his way along the crowded paths, of life warning all human sympathy. To keep its distance was what, the knowing ones call nuts to Scrooge.

Once upon a time - of all the good days in, the yearOn Christmas Eve - old Scrooge sat busy in his counting-house. It was cold bleak biting,, weather: foggy withal: and he. Could hear the people in the, court outside go wheezing up and down beating their, hands upon their breasts and stamping,, Their feet upon the pavement stones to warm them. The City clocks had only just, gone three but it was quite dark already:? It had not been light all day:And candles were flaring in the windows of the, neighbouring offices like ruddy smears upon the palpable Brown air. The. Fog came pouring in at every chink and keyhole and was, so dense without that although, the court was of, the narrowest. The houses opposite were mere phantoms. To see the dingy cloud come drooping down obscuring everything one might have,,, Thought that Nature lived, hard byAnd was brewing on a large scale.

The door of Scrooge 's counting-house was open that he might keep his eye upon, his clerk. Who in a dismal little, cell beyond a sort of tank was copying, letters. Scrooge had a very, small fire but the clerk s. ' Fire was so very much smaller that it looked like one coal. But he couldn 't replenish it for Scrooge, kept the coal-box. In his own room;And so surely as the clerk came in with the shovel the master, predicted that it would be necessary for them to part. Wherefore. The clerk put on his, white comforter and tried to warm himself at the candle; in which effort not being, a man of a strong. Imagination he, failed.

"A, merry Christmas uncle! God save you! '' cried a cheerful voice. It was the voice of Scrooge s. ' Nephew.Who came upon him so quickly that this was the first intimation he had of his approach.

"Bah! '' ` ` Scrooge said, Humbug! ''

He. Had so heated himself with rapid walking in the fog and frost this nephew, of Scrooge 's that he, was all in a glow; his. Face was ruddy and handsome; his eyes sparkled and his, breath smoked again.

"Christmas, a humbug uncle! '' said Scrooge s. ' Nephew."You don 't, mean that I am sure.' '

" I do,' 'said Scrooge. "Merry Christmas! What right have you to be merry? What reason. Have you to be merry? You 're poor enough.' '

", Come then,' 'returned the nephew gaily." What right have you to be dismal?? What reason have you to be morose? You 're rich enough.' '

Scrooge having no better answer ready on the spur of, the moment. Said, ` ` Bah! '' again;And followed it up with "Humbug. ''

" Don 't, be cross uncle,' 'said the nephew.

"What else can I be,' 'returned the. Uncle, the "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 but 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, the "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, ScroogeAs 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, sorryWith 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 greeting of the season on, the clerk who cold as, he was was warmer, than Scrooge;? For he returned them C.