CharlesDickens：AChristmasCarolPrefaceIhaveendeavouredinthisGhostlylittlebook，toraisetheGhostofanIdea，whichshallnotputmyreadersoutofhumourwiththemselves，witheachother，withtheseason，orwithme。Mayithaunttheirhousespleasantly，andnoonewishtolayit。
　　TheirfaithfulFriendandServant，C。D。
　　December，1843。Chapter1—Marley’sGhostChapter2—TheFirstoftheThreeSpiritsChapter3—TheSecondoftheThreeSpiritsChapter4—TheLastoftheSpiritsChapter5—TheEndofitAChristmasCarol—Chapter1—AChristmasCarolNextChapterChapter1—Marley’sGhostMarleywasdead：tobeginwith。Thereisnodoubtwhateveraboutthat。
　　Theregisterofhisburialwassignedbytheclergyman，theclerk，theundertaker，andthechiefmourner。Scroogesignedit。AndScrooge’snamewasgoodupon’Change，foranythinghechosetoputhishandto。OldMarleywasasdeadasadoor—nail。
　　Mind!Idon’tmeantosaythatIknow，ofmyownknowledge，whatthereisparticularlydeadaboutadoor—nail。Imighthavebeeninclined，myself，toregardacoffin—nailasthedeadestpieceofironmongeryinthetrade。
　　Butthewisdomofourancestorsisinthesimile；andmyunhallowedhandsshallnotdisturbit，ortheCountry’sdonefor。Youwillthereforepermitmetorepeat，emphatically，thatMarleywasasdeadasadoor—nail。
　　Scroogeknewhewasdead？Ofcoursehedid。Howcoulditbeotherwise？
　　ScroogeandhewerepartnersforIdon’tknowhowmanyyears。Scroogewashissoleexecutor，hissoleadministrator，hissoleassign，hissoleresiduarylegatee，hissolefriend，andsolemourner。AndevenScroogewasnotsodreadfullycutupbythesadevent，butthathewasanexcellentmanofbusinessontheverydayofthefuneral，andsolemniseditwithanundoubtedbargain。
　　ThementionofMarley’sfuneralbringsmebacktothepointIstartedfrom。ThereisnodoubtthatMarleywasdead。Thismustbedistinctlyunderstood，ornothingwonderfulcancomeofthestoryIamgoingtorelate。IfwewerenotperfectlyconvincedthatHamlet’sFatherdiedbeforetheplaybegan，therewouldbenothingmoreremarkableinhistakingastrollatnight，inaneasterlywind，uponhisownramparts，thantherewouldbeinanyothermiddle—agedgentlemanrashlyturningoutafterdarkinabreezyspot——saySaintPaul’sChurchyardforinstance——literallytoastonishhisson’sweakmind。
　　ScroogeneverpaintedoutOldMarley’sname。Thereitstood，yearsafterwards，abovetheware—housedoor：ScroogeandMarley。ThefirmwasknownasScroogeandMarley。SometimespeoplenewtothebusinesscalledScroogeScrooge，andsometimesMarley，butheansweredtobothnames。Itwasallthesametohim。
　　Oh!Buthewasatight—fistedhandatthegrindstone，Scrooge!asqueezing，wrenching，grasping，scraping，clutching，covetousoldsinner!Hardandsharpasflint，fromwhichnosteelhadeverstruckoutgenerousfire；
　　secret，andself—contained，andsolitaryasanoyster。Thecoldwithinhimfrozehisoldfeatures，nippedhispointednose，shrivelledhischeek，stiffenedhisgait；madehiseyesred，histhinlipsblue；andspokeoutshrewdlyinhisgratingvoice。Afrostyrimewasonhishead，andonhiseyebrows，andhiswirychin。Hecarriedhisownlowtemperaturealwaysaboutwithhim；heicedhisofficeinthedog—days；anddidn’tthawitonedegreeatChristmas。
　　ExternalheatandcoldhadlittleinfluenceonScrooge。Nowarmthcouldwarm，nowintryweatherchillhim。Nowindthatblewwasbittererthanhe，nofallingsnowwasmoreintentuponitspurpose，nopeltingrainlessopentoentreaty。Foulweatherdidn’tknowwheretohavehim。Theheaviestrain，andsnow，andhail，andsleet，couldboastoftheadvantageoverhiminonlyonerespect。Theyoftencamedownhandsomely，andScroogeneverdid。
　　Nobodyeverstoppedhiminthestreettosay，withgladsomelooks，``MydearScrooge，howareyou。Whenwillyoucometoseeme。’’Nobeggarsimploredhimtobestowatrifle，nochildrenaskedhimwhatitwaso’clock，nomanorwomaneveronceinallhislifeinquiredthewaytosuchandsuchaplace，ofScrooge。Eventheblindmen’sdogsappearedtoknowhim；andwhentheysawhimcomingon，wouldtugtheirownersintodoorwaysandupcourts；
　　andthenwouldwagtheirtailsasthoughtheysaid，``Noeyeatallisbetterthananevileye，darkmaster!’’
　　ButwhatdidScroogecare!Itwastheverythingheliked。Toedgehiswayalongthecrowdedpathsoflife，warningallhumansympathytokeepitsdistance，waswhattheknowingonescallnutstoScrooge。
　　Onceuponatime——ofallthegooddaysintheyear，onChristmasEve——oldScroogesatbusyinhiscounting—house。Itwascold，bleak，bitingweather：foggywithal：andhecouldhearthepeopleinthecourtoutside，gowheezingupanddown，beatingtheirhandsupontheirbreasts，andstampingtheirfeetuponthepavementstonestowarmthem。Thecityclockshadonlyjustgonethree，butitwasquitedarkalready：ithadnotbeenlightallday：andcandleswereflaringinthewindowsoftheneighbouringoffices，likeruddysmearsuponthepalpablebrownair。Thefogcamepouringinateverychinkandkeyhole，andwassodensewithout，thatalthoughthecourtwasofthenarrowest，thehousesoppositeweremerephantoms。Toseethedingycloudcomedroopingdown，obscuringeverything，onemighthavethoughtthatNaturelivedhardby，andwasbrewingonalargescale。
　　ThedoorofScrooge’scounting—housewasopenthathemightkeephiseyeuponhisclerk，whoinadismallittlecellbeyond，asortoftank，wascopyingletters。Scroogehadaverysmallfire，buttheclerk’sfirewassoverymuchsmallerthatitlookedlikeonecoal。Buthecouldn’treplenishit，forScroogekeptthecoal—boxinhisownroom；andsosurelyastheclerkcameinwiththeshovel，themasterpredictedthatitwouldbenecessaryforthemtopart。Whereforetheclerkputonhiswhitecomforter，andtriedtowarmhimselfatthecandle；inwhicheffort，notbeingamanofastrongimagination，hefailed。
　　``AmerryChristmas，uncle!Godsaveyou!’’criedacheerfulvoice。
　　ItwasthevoiceofScrooge’snephew，whocameuponhimsoquicklythatthiswasthefirstintimationhehadofhisapproach。
　　``Bah!’’saidScrooge，``Humbug!’’
　　Hehadsoheatedhimselfwithrapidwalkinginthefogandfrost，thisnephewofScrooge’s，thathewasallinaglow；hisfacewasruddyandhandsome；hiseyessparkled，andhisbreathsmokedagain。
　　``Christmasahumbug，uncle!’’saidScrooge’snephew。``Youdon’tmeanthat，Iamsure。’’
　　``Ido，’’saidScrooge。``MerryChristmas!Whatrighthaveyoutobemerry？whatreasonhaveyoutobemerry？You’repoorenough。’’
　　``Come，then，’’returnedthenephewgaily。``Whatrighthaveyoutobedismal？whatreasonhaveyoutobemorose？You’rerichenough。’’
　　Scroogehavingnobetteranswerreadyonthespurofthemoment，said，``Bah!’’again；andfolloweditupwith``Humbug。’’
　　``Don’tbecross，uncle，’’saidthenephew。
　　``WhatelsecanIbe，’’returnedtheuncle，``whenIliveinsuchaworldoffoolsasthisMerryChristmas!OutuponmerryChristmas。What’sChristmastimetoyoubutatimeforpayingbillswithoutmoney；atimeforfindingyourselfayearolder，butnotanhourricher；atimeforbalancingyourbooksandhavingeveryitemin’emthrougharounddozenofmonthspresenteddeadagainstyou？IfIcouldworkmywill，’’saidScroogeindignantly，``everyidiotwhogoesaboutwith``MerryChristmas’’onhislips，shouldbeboiledwithhisownpudding，andburiedwithastakeofhollythroughhisheart。Heshould!’’
　　``Uncle!’’pleadedthenephew。
　　``Nephew!’’returnedtheuncle，sternly，``keepChristmasinyourownway，andletmekeepitinmine。’’
　　``Keepit!’’repeatedScrooge’snephew。``Butyoudon’tkeepit。’’
　　``Letmeleaveitalone，then，’’saidScrooge。``Muchgoodmayitdoyou!Muchgoodithaseverdoneyou!’’
　　``TherearemanythingsfromwhichImighthavederivedgood，bywhichIhavenotprofited，Idaresay，’’returnedthenephew：``Christmasamongtherest。ButIamsureIhavealwaysthoughtofChristmastime，whenithascomeround——apartfromthevenerationduetoitssacrednameandorigin，ifanythingbelongingtoitcanbeapartfromthat——asagoodtime：akind，forgiving，charitable，pleasanttime：theonlytimeIknowof，inthelongcalendaroftheyear，whenmenandwomenseembyoneconsenttoopentheirshut—upheartsfreely，andtothinkofpeoplebelowthemasiftheyreallywerefellow—passengerstothegrave，andnotanotherraceofcreaturesboundonotherjourneys。Andtherefore，uncle，thoughithasneverputascrapofgoldorsilverinmypocket，Ibelievethatithasdonemegood，andwilldomegood；andIsay，Godblessit!’’
　　Theclerkinthetankinvoluntarilyapplauded。Becomingimmediatelysensibleoftheimpropriety，hepokedthefire，andextinguishedthelastfrailsparkforever。
　　``Letmehearanothersoundfromyou，’’saidScrooge，``andyou’llkeepyourChristmasbylosingyoursituation。You’requiteapowerfulspeaker，sir，’’headded，turningtohisnephew。``Iwonderyoudon’tgointoParliament。’’
　　``Don’tbeangry，uncle。Come!Dinewithusto—morrow。’’
　　Scroogesaidthathewouldseehim——yes，indeedhedid。Hewentthewholelengthoftheexpression，andsaidthathewouldseehiminthatextremityfirst。
　　``Butwhy？’’criedScrooge’snephew。``Why？’’
　　``Whydidyougetmarried？’’saidScrooge。
　　``BecauseIfellinlove。’’
　　``Becauseyoufellinlove!’’growledScrooge，asifthatweretheonlyonethingintheworldmoreridiculousthanamerryChristmas。``Goodafternoon!’’
　　``Nay，uncle，butyounevercametoseemebeforethathappened。Whygiveitasareasonfornotcomingnow？’’
　　``Goodafternoon，’’saidScrooge。
　　``Iwantnothingfromyou；Iasknothingofyou；whycannotwebefriends？’’
　　``Goodafternoon，’’saidScrooge。
　　``Iamsorry，withallmyheart，tofindyousoresolute。Wehaveneverhadanyquarrel，towhichIhavebeenaparty。ButIhavemadethetrialinhomagetoChristmas，andI’llkeepmyChristmashumourtothelast。
　　SoAMerryChristmas，uncle!’’
　　``Goodafternoon!’’saidScrooge。
　　``AndAHappyNewYear!’’
　　``Goodafternoon!’’saidScrooge。
　　Hisnephewlefttheroomwithoutanangryword，notwithstanding。Hestoppedattheouterdoortobestowthegreetingoftheseasonontheclerk，who，coldashewas，waswarmerthanScrooge；forhereturnedthemcordially。
　　``There’sanotherfellow，’’mutteredScrooge；whooverheardhim：``myclerk，withfifteenshillingsaweek，andawifeandfamily，talkingaboutamerryChristmas。I’llretiretoBedlam。’’
　　Thislunatic，inlettingScrooge’snephewout，hadlettwootherpeoplein。Theywereportlygentlemen，pleasanttobehold，andnowstood，withtheirhatsoff，inScrooge’soffice。Theyhadbooksandpapersintheirhands，andbowedtohim。
　　``ScroogeandMarley’s，Ibelieve，’’saidoneofthegentlemen，referringtohislist。``HaveIthepleasureofaddressingMrScrooge，orMrMarley？’’
　　``MrMarleyhasbeendeadthesesevenyears，’’Scroogereplied。``Hediedsevenyearsago，thisverynight。’’
　　``Wehavenodoubthisliberalityiswellrepresentedbyhissurvivingpartner，’’saidthegentleman，presentinghiscredentials。
　　Itcertainlywas；fortheyhadbeentwokindredspirits。Attheominousword``liberality’’，Scroogefrowned，andshookhishead，andhandedthecredentialsback。
　　``Atthisfestiveseasonoftheyear，MrScrooge，’’saidthegentleman，takingupapen，``itismorethanusuallydesirablethatweshouldmakesomeslightprovisionforthePooranddestitute，whosuffergreatlyatthepresenttime。Manythousandsareinwantofcommonnecessaries；hundredsofthousandsareinwantofcommoncomforts，sir。’’
　　``Aretherenoprisons？’’askedScrooge。
　　``Plentyofprisons，’’saidthegentleman，layingdownthepenagain。
　　``AndtheUnionworkhouses？’’demandedScrooge。``Aretheystillinoperation？’’
　　``Theyare。Still，’’returnedthegentleman，``IwishIcouldsaytheywerenot。’’
　　``TheTreadmillandthePoorLawareinfullvigour，then？’’saidScrooge。
　　``Bothverybusy，sir。’’
　　``Oh!Iwasafraid，fromwhatyousaidatfirst，thatsomethinghadoccurredtostopthemintheirusefulcourse，’’saidScrooge。``I’mverygladtohearit。’’
　　``UndertheimpressionthattheyscarcelyfurnishChristiancheerofmindorbodytothemultitude，’’returnedthegentleman，``afewofusareendeavouringtoraiseafundtobuythePoorsomemeatanddrink，andmeansofwarmth。Wechoosethistime，becauseitisatime，ofallothers，whenWantiskeenlyfelt，andAbundancerejoices。WhatshallIputyoudownfor？’’
　　``Nothing!’’Scroogereplied。
　　``Youwishtobeanonymous？’’
　　``Iwishtobeleftalone，’’saidScrooge。``SinceyouaskmewhatI
　　wish，gentlemen，thatismyanswer。Idon’tmakemerrymyselfatChristmasandIcan’taffordtomakeidlepeoplemerry。IhelptosupporttheestablishmentsIhavementioned：theycostenough：andthosewhoarebadlyoffmustgothere。’’
　　``Manycan’tgothere；andmanywouldratherdie。’’
　　``Iftheywouldratherdie，’’saidScrooge，``theyhadbetterdoit，anddecreasethesurpluspopulation。Besides——excuseme——Idon’tknowthat。’’
　　``Butyoumightknowit，’’observedthegentleman。
　　``It’snotmybusiness，’’Scroogereturned。``It’senoughforamantounderstandhisownbusiness，andnottointerferewithotherpeople’s。
　　Mineoccupiesmeconstantly。Goodafternoon，gentlemen!’’
　　Seeingclearlythatitwouldbeuselesstopursuetheirpoint，thegentlemenwithdrew。Scroogeresumedhislabourswithanimprovedopinionofhimself，andinamorefacetioustemperthanwasusualwithhim。
　　Meanwhilethefoganddarknessthickenedso，thatpeopleranaboutwithflaringlinks，profferingtheirservicestogobeforehorsesincarriages，andconductthemontheirway。Theancienttowerofachurch，whosegruffoldbellwasalwayspeepingslilydownatScroogeoutofagothicwindowinthewall，becameinvisible，andstruckthehoursandquartersintheclouds，withtremulousvibrationsafterwardsasifitsteethwerechatteringinitsfrozenheadupthere。Thecoldbecameintense。Inthemainstreet，atthecornerofthecourt，somelabourerswererepairingthegas—pipes，andhadlightedagreatfireinabrazier，roundwhichapartyofraggedmenandboysweregathered：warmingtheirhandsandwinkingtheireyesbeforetheblazeinrapture。Thewater—plugbeingleftinsolitude，itsoverflowingssullenlycongealed，andturnedtomisanthropicice。Thebrightnessoftheshopswherehollysprigsandberriescrackledinthelamp—heatofthewindows，madepalefacesruddyastheypassed。Poulterers’andgrocers’
　　tradesbecameasplendidjoke：agloriouspageant，withwhichitwasnexttoimpossibletobelievethatsuchdullprinciplesasbargainandsalehadanythingtodo。TheLordMayor，inthestrongholdofthemightMansionHouse，gaveorderstohisfiftycooksandbutlerstokeepChristmasasaLordMayor’shouseholdshould；andeventhelittletailor，whomhehadfinedfiveshillingsonthepreviousMondayforbeingdrunkandbloodthirstyinthestreets，stirreduptomorrow’spuddinginhisgarret，whilehisleanwifeandthebabysalliedouttobuythebeef。
　　Foggieryet，andcolder!Piercing，searching，bitingcold。IfthegoodSaintDunstanhadbutnippedtheEvilSpirit’snosewithatouchofsuchweatherasthat，insteadofusinghisfamiliarweapons，thenindeedhewouldhaveroaredtolustypurpose。Theownerofonescantyoungnose，gnawedandmumbledbythehungrycoldasbonesaregnawedbydogs，stoopeddownatScrooge’skeyholetoregalehimwithaChristmascarol：butatthefirstsoundofGodblessyou，merrygentleman!Maynothingyoudismay!Scroogeseizedtherulerwithsuchenergyofactionthatthesingerfledinterror，leavingthekeyholetothefogandevenmorecongenialfrost。
　　Atlengththehourofshuttingupthecounting—housearrived。Withanill—willScroogedismountedfromhisstool，andtacitlyadmittedthefacttotheexpectantclerkintheTank，whoinstantlysnuffedhiscandleout，andputonhishat。
　　``You’llwantalldaytomorrow，Isuppose？’’saidScrooge。
　　``Ifquiteconvenient，Sir。’’
　　``It’snotconvenient，’’saidScrooge，``andit’snotfair。IfIwastostophalf—a—crownforit，you’dthinkyourselfill—used，I’llbebound？’’
　　Theclerksmiledfaintly。
　　``Andyet，’’saidScrooge，``youdon’tthinkmeill—used，whenIpayaday’swagesfornowork。’’
　　Theclerkobservedthatitwasonlyonceayear。
　　``Apoorexcuseforpickingaman’spocketeverytwenty—fifthofDecember!’’
　　saidScrooge，buttoninghisgreat—coattothechin。``ButIsupposeyoumusthavethewholeday。Beherealltheearliernextmorning!’’
　　Theclerkpromisedthathewould；andScroogewalkedoutwithagrowl。
　　Theofficewasclosedinatwinkling，andtheclerk，withthelongendsofhiswhitecomforterdanglingbelowhiswaist（forheboastednogreat—coat），wentdownaslideonCornhill，attheendofalaneofboys，twentytimes，inhonourofitsbeingChristmasEve，andthenranhometoCamdenTownashardashecouldpelt，toplayatblindman’sbuff。
　　Scroogetookhismelancholydinnerinhisusualmelancholytavern；andhavingreadallthenewspapers，andbeguiledtherestoftheeveningwithhisbanker’s—book，wenthometobed。Helivedinchamberswhichhadoncebelongedtohisdeceasedpartner。Theywereagloomysuiteofrooms，inaloweringpileofbuildingupayard，whereithadsolittlebusinesstobe，thatonecouldscarcelyhelpfancyingitmusthaveruntherewhenitwasayounghouse，playingathide—and—seekwithotherhouses，andhaveforgottenthewayoutagain。Itwasoldenoughnow，anddrearyenough，fornobodylivedinitbutScrooge，theotherroomsbeingallletoutasoffices。TheyardwassodarkthatevenScrooge，whoknewitseverystone，wasfaintogropewithhishands。Thefogandfrostsohungabouttheblackoldgatewayofthehouse，thatitseemedasiftheGeniusoftheWeathersatinmournfulmeditationonthethreshold。
　　Now，itisafact，thattherewasnothingatallparticularabouttheknockeronthedoor，exceptthatitwasverylarge。Itisalsoafact，thatScroogehadseenit，nightandmorning，duringhiswholeresidenceinthatplace；alsothatScroogehadaslittleofwhatiscalledfancyabouthimasanymanintheCityofLondon，evenincluding——whichisaboldword——thecorporation，aldermen，andlivery。LetitalsobeborneinmindthatScroogehadnotbestowedonethoughtonMarley，sincehislastmentionofhisseven—year’sdeadpartnerthatafternoon。Andthenletanymanexplaintome，ifhecan，howithappenedthatScrooge，havinghiskeyinthelockofthedoor，sawintheknocker，withoutitsundergoinganyintermediateprocessofchange：notaknocker，butMarley’sface。
　　Marley’sface。Itwasnotinimpenetrableshadowastheotherobjectsintheyardwere，buthadadismallightaboutit，likeabadlobsterinadarkcellar。Itwasnotangryorferocious，butlookedatScroogeasMarleyusedtolook：withghostlyspectaclesturnedupuponitsghostlyforehead。Thehairwascuriouslystirred，asifbybreathorhot—air；and，thoughtheeyeswerewideopen，theywereperfectlymotionless。That，anditslividcolour，madeithorrible；butitshorrorseemedtobeinspiteofthefaceandbeyonditscontrol，ratherthanapartofitsownexpression。
　　AsScroogelookedfixedlyatthisphenomenon，itwasaknockeragain。
　　Tosaythathewasnotstartled，orthathisbloodwasnotconsciousofaterriblesensationtowhichithadbeenastrangerfrominfancy，wouldbeuntrue。Butheputhishanduponthekeyhehadrelinquished，turneditsturdily，walkedin，andlightedhiscandle。
　　Hedidpause，withamoment’sirresolution，beforeheshutthedoor；andhedidlookcautiouslybehinditfirst，asifhehalfexpectedtobeterrifiedwiththesightofMarley’spigtailstickingoutintothehall。Buttherewasnothingonthebackofthedoor，exceptthescrewsandnutsthatheldtheknockeron，sohesaid``Pooh，pooh!’’andcloseditwithabang。
　　Thesoundresoundedthroughthehouselikethunder。Everyroomabove，andeverycaskinthewine—merchant’scellarsbelow，appearedtohaveaseparatepealofechoesofitsown。Scroogewasnotamantobefrightenedbyechoes。Hefastenedthedoor，andwalkedacrossthehall，andupthestairs，slowlytoo：trimminghiscandleashewent。
　　Youmaytalkvaguelyaboutdrivingacoach—and—sixupagoodoldflightofstairs，orthroughabadyoungActofParliament；butImeantosayyoumighthavegotahearseupthatstaircase，andtakenitbroadwise，withthesplinter—bartowardsthewallandthedoortowardsthebalustrades：
　　anddoneiteasy。Therewasplentyofwidthforthat，androomtospare；
　　whichisperhapsthereasonwhyScroogethoughthesawalocomotivehearsegoingonbeforehiminthegloom。Half—a—dozengas—lampsoutofthestreetwouldn’thavelightedtheentrytoowell，soyoumaysupposethatitwasprettydarkwithScrooge’sdip。
　　UpScroogewent，notcaringabuttonforthat：darknessischeap，andScroogelikedit。Butbeforeheshuthisheavydoor，hewalkedthroughhisroomstoseethatallwasright。Hehadjustenoughrecollectionofthefacetodesiretodothat。
　　Sitting—room，bed—room，lumber—room。Allastheyshouldbe。Nobodyunderthetable，nobodyunderthesofa；asmallfireinthegrate；spoonandbasinready；andthelittlesaucepanofgruel（Scroogehasacoldinhishead）uponthehob。Nobodyunderthebed；nobodyinthecloset；nobodyinhisdressing—gown，whichwashangingupinasuspiciousattitudeagainstthewall。Lumber—roomasusual。Oldfire—guard，oldshoes，twofish—baskets，washing—standonthreelegs，andapoker。
　　Quitesatisfied，heclosedhisdoor，andlockedhimselfin；double—lockedhimselfin，whichwasnothiscustom。Thussecuredagainstsurprise，hetookoffhiscravat；putonhisdressing—gownandslippers，andhisnight—cap；
　　andsatdownbeforethefiretotakehisgruel。
　　Itwasaverylowfireindeed；nothingonsuchabitternight。Hewasobligedtositclosetoit，andbroodoverit，beforehecouldextracttheleastsensationofwarmthfromsuchahandfuloffuel。Thefireplacewasanoldone，builtbysomeDutchmerchantlongago，andpavedallroundwithquaintDutchtiles，designedtoillustratetheScriptures。TherewereCainsandAbels，Pharaoh’sdaughters，QueensofSheba，Angelicmessengersdescendingthroughtheaironcloudslikefeather—beds，Abrahams，Belshazzars，Apostlesputtingofftoseainbutter—boats，hundredsoffigurestoattracthisthoughts；andyetthatfaceofMarley，sevenyearsdead，cameliketheancientProphet’srod，andswallowedupthewhole。Ifeachsmoothtilehadbeenablankatfirst，withpowertoshapesomepictureonitssurfacefromthedisjointedfragmentsofhisthoughts，therewouldhavebeenacopyofoldMarley’sheadoneveryone。
　　``Humbug!’’saidScrooge；andwalkedacrosstheroom。
　　Afterseveralturns，hesatdownagain。Ashethrewhisheadbackinthechair，hisglancehappenedtorestuponabell，adisusedbell，thathungintheroom，andcommunicatedforsomepurposenowforgottenwithachamberinthehigheststoryofthebuilding。Itwaswithgreatastonishment，andwithastrange，inexplicabledread，thatashelooked，hesawthisbellbegintoswing。Itswungsosoftlyintheoutsetthatitscarcelymadeasound；butsoonitrangoutloudly，andsodideverybellinthehouse。
　　Thismighthavelastedhalfaminute，oraminute，butitseemedanhour。Thebellsceasedastheyhadbegun，together。Theyweresucceededbyaclankingnoise，deepdownbelow；asifsomepersonweredraggingaheavychainoverthecasksinthewine—merchant’scellar。Scroogethenrememberedtohaveheardthatghostsinhauntedhousesweredescribedasdraggingchains。
　　Thecellar—doorflewopenwithaboomingsound，andthenheheardthenoisemuchlouder，onthefloorsbelow；thencomingupthestairs；thencomingstraighttowardshisdoor。
　　``It’shumbugstill!’’saidScrooge。``Iwon’tbelieveit。’’
　　Hiscolourchangedthough，when，withoutapause，itcameonthroughtheheavydoor，andpassedintotheroombeforehiseyes。Uponitscomingin，thedyingflameleapedup，asthoughitcried，``Iknowhim!Marley’sGhost!’’andfellagain。
　　Thesameface：theverysame。Marleyinhispigtail，usualwaistcoat，tights，andboots；thetasselsonthelatterbristling，likehispigtail，andhiscoat—skirts，andthehairuponhishead。Thechainhedrewwasclaspedabouthismiddle。Itwaslong，andwoundabouthimlikeatail；
　　anditwasmade（forScroogeobserveditclosely）ofcash—boxes，keys，padlocks，ledgers，deeds，andheavypurseswroughtinsteel。Hisbodywastransparent；sothatScrooge，observinghim，andlookingthroughhiswaistcoat，couldseethetwobuttonsonhiscoatbehind。
　　ScroogehadoftenhearditsaidthatMarleyhadnobowels，buthehadneverbelievedituntilnow。
　　No，nordidhebelieveitevennow。Thoughhelookedthephantomthroughandthrough，andsawitstandingbeforehim；thoughhefeltthechillinginfluenceofitsdeath—coldeyes；andmarkedtheverytextureofthefoldedkerchiefboundaboutitsheadandchin，whichwrapperhehadnotobservedbefore；hewasstillincredulous，andfoughtagainsthissenses。
　　``Hownow!’’saidScrooge，causticandcoldasever。``Whatdoyouwantwithme？’’
　　``Much!’’——Marley’svoice，nodoubtaboutit。
　　``Whoareyou？’’
　　``AskmewhoIwas。’’
　　``Whowereyouthen。’’saidScrooge，raisinghisvoice。``You’reparticular，forashade。’’Hewasgoingtosay``toashade，’’butsubstitutedthis，asmoreappropriate。
　　``InlifeIwasyourpartner，JacobMarley。’’
　　``Canyou——canyousitdown？’’askedScrooge，lookingdoubtfullyathim。
　　``Ican。’’
　　``Doit，then。’’
　　Scroogeaskedthequestion，becausehedidn’tknowwhetheraghostsotransparentmightfindhimselfinaconditiontotakeachair；andfeltthatintheeventofitsbeingimpossible，itmightinvolvethenecessityofanembarrassingexplanation。Buttheghostsatdownontheoppositesideofthefireplace，asifhewerequiteusedtoit。
　　``Youdon’tbelieveinme，’’observedtheGhost。
　　``Idon’t，’’saidScrooge。
　　``Whatevidencewouldyouhaveofmyrealitybeyondthatofyoursenses？’’
　　``Idon’tknow，’’saidScrooge。
　　``Whydoyoudoubtyoursenses？’’
　　``Because，’’saidScrooge，``alittlethingaffectsthem。Aslightdisorderofthestomachmakesthemcheats。Youmaybeanundigestedbitofbeef，ablotofmustard，acrumbofcheese，afragmentofanunderdonepotato。
　　There’smoreofgravythanofgraveaboutyou，whateveryouare!’’
　　Scroogewasnotmuchinthehabitofcrackingjokes，nordidhefeel，inhisheart，byanymeanswaggishthen。Thetruthis，thathetriedtobesmart，asameansofdistractinghisownattention，andkeepingdownhisterror；forthespectre’svoicedisturbedtheverymarrowinhisbones。
　　Tosit，staringatthosefixed，glazedeyes，insilenceforamoment，wouldplay，Scroogefelt，theverydeucewithhim。Therewassomethingveryawful，too，inthespectre’sbeingprovidedwithaninfernalatmosphereofitsown。Scroogecouldnotfeelithimself，butthiswasclearlythecase；forthoughtheGhostsatperfectlymotionless，itshair，andskirts，andtassels，werestillagitatedasbythehotvapourfromanoven。
　　``Youseethistoothpick？’’saidScrooge，returningquicklytothecharge，forthereasonjustassigned；andwishing，thoughitwereonlyforasecond，todivertthevision’sstonygazefromhimself。
　　``Ido，’’repliedtheGhost。
　　``Youarenotlookingatit，’’saidScrooge。
　　``ButIseeit，’’saidtheGhost，``notwithstanding。’’
　　``Well!’’returnedScrooge，``Ihavebuttoswallowthis，andbefortherestofmydayspersecutedbyalegionofgoblins，allofmyowncreation。
　　Humbug，Itellyou；humbug!’’
　　Atthisthespiritraisedafrightfulcry，andshookitschainwithsuchadismalandappallingnoise，thatScroogeheldontighttohischair，tosavehimselffromfallinginaswoon。Buthowmuchgreaterwashishorror，whenthephantomtakingoffthebandagerounditshead，asifitweretoowarmtowearin—doors，itslowerjawdroppeddownuponitsbreast!
　　Scroogefelluponhisknees，andclaspedhishandsbeforehisface。
　　``Mercy!’’hesaid。``Dreadfulapparition，whydoyoutroubleme？’’
　　``Manoftheworldlymind!’’repliedtheGhost，``doyoubelieveinmeornot？’’
　　``Ido，’’saidScrooge。``Imust。Butwhydospiritswalktheearth，andwhydotheycometome？’’
　　``Itisrequiredofeveryman，’’theGhostreturned，``thatthespiritwithinhimshouldwalkabroadamonghisfellow—men，andtravelfarandwide；andifthatspiritgoesnotforthinlife，itiscondemnedtodosoafterdeath。Itisdoomedtowanderthroughtheworld——oh，woeisme!——andwitnesswhatitcannotshare，butmighthavesharedonearth，andturnedtohappiness!’’
　　Againthespectreraisedacry，andshookitschain，andwrungitsshadowyhands。
　　``Youarefettered，’’saidScrooge，trembling。``Tellmewhy？’’
　　``IwearthechainIforgedinlife，’’repliedtheGhost。``Imadeitlinkbylink，andyardbyyard；Igirdeditonofmyownfreewill，andofmyownfreewillIworeit。Isitspatternstrangetoyou？’’
　　Scroogetrembledmoreandmore。
　　``Orwouldyouknow，’’pursuedtheGhost，``theweightandlengthofthestrongcoilyoubearyourself？Itwasfullasheavyandaslongasthis，sevenChristmasEvesago。Youhavelabouredonit，since。Itisaponderouschain!’’
　　Scroogeglancedabouthimonthefloor，intheexpectationoffindinghimselfsurroundedbysomefiftyorsixtyfathomsofironcable：buthecouldseenothing。
　　``Jacob，’’hesaid，imploringly。``OldJacobMarley，tellmemore。Speakcomforttome，Jacob。’’
　　``Ihavenonetogive，’’theGhostreplied。``Itcomesfromotherregions，EbenezerScrooge，andisconveyedbyotherministers，tootherkindsofmen。NorcanItellyouwhatIwould。Averylittlemore，isallpermittedtome。Icannotrest，Icannotstay，Icannotlingeranywhere。Myspiritneverwalkedbeyondourcounting—house——markme!——inlifemyspiritneverrovedbeyondthenarrowlimitsofourmoney—changinghole；andwearyjourneysliebeforeme!’’
　　ItwasahabitwithScrooge，wheneverhebecamethoughtful，toputhishandsinhisbreechespockets。PonderingonwhattheGhosthadsaid，hedidsonow，butwithoutliftinguphiseyes，orgettingoffhisknees。
　　``Youmusthavebeenveryslowaboutit，Jacob，’’Scroogeobserved，inabusiness—likemanner，thoughwithhumilityanddeference。
　　``Slow!’’theGhostrepeated。
　　``Sevenyearsdead，’’musedScrooge。``Andtravellingallthetime？’’
　　``Thewholetime，’’saidtheGhost。``Norest，nopeace。Incessanttortureofremorse。’’
　　``Youtravelfast？’’saidScrooge。
　　``Onthewingsofthewind，’’repliedtheGhost。
　　``Youmighthavegotoveragreatquantityofgroundinsevenyears，’’
　　saidScrooge。
　　TheGhost，onhearingthis，setupanothercry，andclankeditschainsohideouslyinthedeadsilenceofthenight，thattheWardwouldhavebeenjustifiedinindictingitforanuisance。
　　``Oh!captive，bound，anddouble—ironed，’’criedthephantom，``nottoknow，thatagesofincessantlabourbyimmortalcreatures，forthisearthmustpassintoeternitybeforethegoodofwhichitissusceptibleisalldeveloped。NottoknowthatanyChristianspiritworkingkindlyinitslittlesphere，whateveritmaybe，willfinditsmortallifetooshortforitsvastmeansofusefulness。Nottoknowthatnospaceofregretcanmakeamendsforonelife’sopportunitiesmisused!YetsuchwasI!Oh!
　　suchwasI!’’
　　``Butyouwerealwaysagoodmanofbusiness，Jacob，’’faulteredScrooge，whonowbegantoapplythistohimself。
　　``Business!’’criedtheGhost，wringingitshandsagain。``Mankindwasmybusiness。Thecommonwelfarewasmybusiness；charity，mercy，forbearance，andbenevolence，were，all，mybusiness。Thedealingsofmytradewerebutadropofwaterinthecomprehensiveoceanofmybusiness!’’
　　Itheldupitschainatarm’slength，asifthatwerethecauseofallitsunavailinggrief，andflungitheavilyuponthegroundagain。
　　``Atthistimeoftherollingyear，’’thespectresaid，``Isuffermost。
　　WhydidIwalkthroughcrowdsoffellow—beingswithmyeyesturneddown，andneverraisethemtothatblessedStarwhichledtheWiseMentoapoorabode？Weretherenopoorhomestowhichitslightwouldhaveconductedme!’’
　　Scroogewasverymuchdismayedtohearthespectregoingonatthisrate，andbegantoquakeexceedingly。
　　``Hearme!’’criedtheGhost。``Mytimeisnearlygone。’’
　　``Iwill，’’saidScrooge。``Butdon’tbeharduponme!Don’tbeflowery，Jacob!Pray!’’
　　``HowitisthatIappearbeforeyouinashapethatyoucansee，I
　　maynottell。Ihavesatinvisiblebesideyoumanyandmanyaday。’’
　　Itwasnotanagreeableidea。Scroogeshivered，andwipedtheperspirationfromhisbrow。
　　``Thatisnolightpartofmypenance，’’pursuedtheGhost。``Iamhereto—nighttowarnyou，thatyouhaveyetachanceandhopeofescapingmyfate。Achanceandhopeofmyprocuring，Ebenezer。’’
　　``Youwerealwaysagoodfriendtome，’’saidScrooge。``Thank’ee!’’
　　``Youwillbehaunted，’’resumedtheGhost，``byThreeSpirits。’’
　　Scrooge’scountenancefellalmostaslowastheGhost’shaddone。
　　``Isthatthechanceandhopeyoumentioned，Jacob？’’hedemanded，inafalteringvoice。
　　``Itis。’’
　　``I——IthinkI’drathernot，’’saidScrooge。
　　``Withouttheirvisits，’’saidtheGhost，``youcannothopetoshunthepathItread。Expectthefirstto—morrow，whenthebelltollsOne。’’
　　``Couldn’tItake’emallatonce，andhaveitover，Jacob？’’hintedScrooge。
　　``Expectthesecondonthenextnightatthesamehour。ThethirduponthenextnightwhenthelaststrokeofTwelvehasceasedtovibrate。Looktoseemenomore；andlookthat，foryourownsake，yourememberwhathaspassedbetweenus。’’
　　Whenithadsaidthesewords，thespectretookitswrapperfromthetable，andbounditrounditshead，asbefore。Scroogeknewthis，bythesmartsounditsteethmade，whenthejawswerebroughttogetherbythebandage。Heventuredtoraisehiseyesagain，andfoundhissupernaturalvisitorconfrontinghiminanerectattitude，withitschainwoundoverandaboutitsarm。
　　Theapparitionwalkedbackwardfromhim；andateverystepittook，thewindowraiseditselfalittle，sothatwhenthespectrereachedit，itwaswideopen。
　　ItbeckonedScroogetoapproach，whichhedid。Whentheywerewithintwopacesofeachother，Marley’sGhostheldupitshand，warninghimtocomenonearer。Scroogestopped。
　　Notsomuchinobedience，asinsurpriseandfear：forontheraisingofthehand，hebecamesensibleofconfusednoisesintheair；incoherentsoundsoflamentationandregret；wailingsinexpressiblysorrowfulandself—accusatory。Thespectre，afterlisteningforamoment，joinedinthemournfuldirge；andfloatedoutuponthebleak，darknight。
　　Scroogefollowedtothewindow：desperateinhiscuriosity。Helookedout。
　　Theairwasfilledwithphantoms，wanderinghitherandthitherinrestlesshaste，andmoaningastheywent。EveryoneofthemworechainslikeMarley’sGhost；somefew（theymightbeguiltygovernments）werelinkedtogether；
　　nonewerefree。ManyhadbeenpersonallyknowntoScroogeintheirlives。
　　Hehadbeenquitefamiliarwithoneoldghost，inawhitewaistcoat，withamonstrousironsafeattachedtoitsankle，whocriedpiteouslyatbeingunabletoassistawretchedwomanwithaninfant，whomitsawbelow，uponadoor—step。Themiserywiththemallwas，clearly，thattheysoughttointerfere，forgood，inhumanmatters，andhadlostthepowerforever。
　　Whetherthesecreaturesfadedintomist，ormistenshroudedthem，hecouldnottell。Buttheyandtheirspiritvoicesfadedtogether；andthenightbecameasithadbeenwhenhewalkedhome。
　　Scroogeclosedthewindow，andexaminedthedoorbywhichtheGhosthadentered。Itwasdouble—locked，ashehadlockeditwithhisownhands，andtheboltswereundisturbed。Hetriedtosay``Humbug!’’butstoppedatthefirstsyllable。Andbeing，fromtheemotionhehadundergone，orthefatiguesoftheday，orhisglimpseoftheInvisibleWorld，orthedullconversationoftheGhost，orthelatenessofthehour，muchinneedofrepose；wentstraighttobed，withoutundressing，andfellasleepupontheinstant。NextChapterAChristmasCarol—Chapter2—TheFirstoftheThreeSpiritsPreviousChapterNextChapterChapter2—TheFirstoftheThreeSpiritsWhenScroogeawoke，itwassodark，thatlookingoutofbed，hecouldscarcelydistinguishthetransparentwindowfromtheopaquewallsofhischamber。Hewasendeavouringtopiercethedarknesswithhisferreteyes，whenthechimesofaneighbouringchurchstruckthefourquarters。Sohelistenedforthehour。
　　Tohisgreatastonishmenttheheavybellwentonfromsixtoseven，andfromseventoeight，andregularlyuptotwelve；thenstopped。Twelve!
　　Itwaspasttwowhenhewenttobed。Theclockwaswrong。Aniciclemusthavegotintotheworks。Twelve!
　　Hetouchedthespringofhisrepeater，tocorrectthismostpreposterousclock。Itsrapidlittlepulsebeattwelve：andstopped。
　　``Why，itisn’tpossible，’’saidScrooge，``thatIcanhavesleptthroughawholedayandfarintoanothernight。Itisn’tpossiblethatanythinghashappenedtothesun，andthisistwelveatnoon!’’
　　Theideabeinganalarmingone，hescrambledoutofbed，andgropedhiswaytothewindow。Hewasobligedtorubthefrostoffwiththesleeveofhisdressing—gownbeforehecouldseeanything；andcouldseeverylittlethen。Allhecouldmakeoutwas，thatitwasstillveryfoggyandextremelycold，andthattherewasnonoiseofpeoplerunningtoandfro，andmakingagreatstir，asthereunquestionablywouldhavebeenifnighthadbeatenoffbrightday，andtakenpossessionoftheworld。Thiswasagreatrelief，because``threedaysaftersightofthisFirstofExchangepaytoMr。EbenezerScroogeorhisorder，’’andsoforth，wouldhavebecomeamereUnitedStates’
　　securityiftherewerenodaystocountby。
　　Scroogewenttobeagain，andthought，and1thought，andthoughtitoverandover，andcouldmakenothingofit。Themorehethought，themoreperplexedhewas；andthemoreheendeavourednottothink，themorehethoughtMarley’sGhostbotheredhimexceedingly。Everytimeheresolvedwithinhimself，aftermatureinquiry，thatitwasalladream，hismindflewback，likeastrongspringreleased，toitsfirstposition，andpresentedthesameproblemtobeworkedallthrough，``Wasitadreamornot？’’
　　Scroogelayinthisstateuntilthechimehadgonethreequartersmore，whenheremembered，onasudden，thattheGhosthadwarnedhimofavisitationwhenthebelltolledone。Heresolvedtolieawakeuntilthehourwaspast；
　　and，consideringthathecouldnomoregotosleepthangotoHeaven，thiswasperhapsthewisestresolutioninhispower。
　　Thequarterwassolong，thathewasmorethanonceconvincedhemusthavesunkintoadozeunconsciously，andmissedtheclock。Atlengthitbrokeuponhislisteningear。
　　``Ding，dong!’’
　　``Aquarterpast，’’saidScrooge，counting。
　　``Ding，dong!’’
　　``Halfpast!’’saidScrooge。
　　``Ding，dong!’’
　　``Aquartertoit，’’saidScrooge。
　　``Ding，dong!’’
　　``Thehouritself，’’saidScrooge，triumphantly，``andnothingelse!’’
　　Hespokebeforethehourbellsounded，whichitnowdidwithadeep，dull，hollow，melancholyONE。Lightflashedupintheroomupontheinstant，andthecurtainsofhisbedweredrawn。
　　Thecurtainsofhisbedweredrawnaside，Itellyou，byahand。Notthecurtainsathisfeet，northecurtainsathisback，butthosetowhichhisfacewasaddressed。Thecurtainsofhisbedweredrawnaside；andScrooge，startingupintoahalf—recumbentattitude，foundhimselffacetofacewiththeunearthlyvisitorwhodrewthem：asclosetoitasIamnowtoyou，andIamstandinginthespiritatyourelbow。
　　Itwasastrangefigure——likeachild：yetnotsolikeachildaslikeanoldman，viewedthroughsomesupernaturalmedium，whichgavehimtheappearanceofhavingrecededfromtheview，andbeingdiminishedtoachild’sproportions。Itshair，whichhungaboutitsneckanddownitsback，waswhiteasifwithage；andyetthefacehadnotawrinkleinit，andthetenderestbloomwasontheskin。Thearmswereverylongandmuscular；
　　thehandsthesame，asifitsholdwereofuncommonstrength。Itslegsandfeet，mostdelicatelyformed，were，likethoseuppermembers，bare。
　　Itworeatunicofthepurestwhiteandrounditswaistwasboundalustrousbelt，thesheenofwhichwasbeautiful。Itheldabranchoffreshgreenhollyinitshand；and，insingularcontradictionofthatwintryemblem，haditsdresstrimmedwithsummerflowers。Butthestrangestthingaboutitwas，thatfromthecrownofitsheadtheresprungabrightclearjetoflight，bywhichallthiswasvisible；andwhichwasdoubtlesstheoccasionofitsusing，initsdullermoments，agreatextinguisherforacap，whichitnowheldunderitsarm。
　　Eventhis，though，whenScroogelookedatitwithincreasingsteadiness，wasnotitsstrangestquality。Forasitsbeltsparkledandglitterednowinonepartandnowinanother，andwhatwaslightoneinstant，atanothertimewasdark，sothefigureitselffluctuatedinitsdistinctness：
　　beingnowathingwithonearm，nowwithoneleg，nowwithtwentylegs，nowapairoflegswithoutahead，nowaheadwithoutabody：ofwhichdissolvingparts，nooutlinewouldbevisibleinthedensegloomwhereintheymeltedaway。Andintheverywonderofthis，itwouldbeitselfagain；
　　distinctandclearasever。
　　``AreyoutheSpirit，sir，whosecomingwasforetoldtome？’’askedScrooge。
　　``Iam!’’
　　Thevoicewassoftandgentle。Singularlylow，asifinsteadofbeingsoclosebesidehim，itwereatadistance。
　　``Who，andwhatareyou？’’Scroogedemanded。
　　``IamtheGhostofChristmasPast。’’
　　``Longpast？’’inquiredScrooge：observantofitsdwarfishstature。
　　``No。Yourpast。’’
　　Perhaps，Scroogecouldnothavetoldanybodywhy，ifanybodycouldhaveaskedhim；buthehadaspecialdesiretoseetheSpiritinhiscap；andbeggedhimtobecovered。
　　``What!’’exclaimedtheGhost，``wouldyousosoonputout，withworldlyhands，thelightIgive？Isitnotenoughthatyouareoneofthosewhosepassionsmadethiscap，andforcemethroughwholetrainsofyearstowearitlowuponmybrow!’’
　　ScroogereverentlydisclaimedallintentiontooffendoranyknowledgeofhavingwilfullybonnetedtheSpiritatanyperiodofhislife。Hethenmadeboldtoinquirewhatbusinessbroughthimthere。
　　``Yourwelfare!’’saidtheGhost。
　　Scroogeexpressedhimselfmuchobliged，butcouldnothelpthinkingthatanightofunbrokenrestwouldhavebeenmoreconducivetothatend。
　　TheSpiritmusthaveheardhimthinking，foritsaidimmediately：
　　``Yourreclamation，then。Takeheed!’’
　　Itputoutitsstronghandasitspoke，andclaspedhimgentlybythearm。
　　``Rise!andwalkwithme!’’
　　ItwouldhavebeeninvainforScroogetopleadthattheweatherandthehourwerenotadaptedtopedestrianpurposes；thatbedwaswarm，andthethermometeralongwaybelowfreezing；thathewascladbutlightlyinhisslippers，dressing—gown，andnightcap；andthathehadacolduponhimatthattime。Thegrasp，thoughgentleasawoman’shand，wasnottoberesisted。Herose：butfindingthattheSpiritmadetowardsthewindow，claspedhisrobeinsupplication。
　　``Iammortal，’’Scroogeremonstrated，``andliabletofall。’’
　　``Bearbutatouchofmyhandthere，’’saidtheSpirit，layingituponhisheart，``andyoushallbeupheldinmorethanthis!’’
　　Asthewordswerespoken，theypassedthroughthewall，andstooduponanopencountryroad，withfieldsoneitherhand。Thecityhadentirelyvanished。Notavestigeofitwastobeseen。Thedarknessandthemisthadvanishedwithit，foritwasaclear，cold，winterday，withsnowupontheground。``GoodHeaven!’’saidScrooge，claspinghishandstogether，ashelookedabouthim。``Iwasbredinthisplace。Iwasaboyhere!’’
　　TheSpiritgazeduponhimmildly。Itsgentletouch，thoughithadbeenlightandinstantaneous，appearedstillpresenttotheoldman’ssenseoffeeling。Hewasconsciousofathousandodoursfloatingintheair，eachoneconnectedwithathousandthoughts，andhopes，andjoys，andcareslong，long，forgotten。
　　``Yourlipistrembling，’’saidtheGhost。``Andwhatisthatuponyourcheek？’’
　　Scroogemuttered，withanunusualcatchinginhisvoice，thatitwasapimple；andbeggedtheGhosttoleadhimwherehewould。
　　``Yourecollecttheway？’’inquiredtheSpirit。
　　``Rememberit!’’criedScroogewithfervour；``Icouldwalkitblindfold。’’
　　``Strangetohaveforgottenitforsomanyyears!’’observedtheGhost。
　　``Letusgoon。’’
　　Theywalkedalongtheroad；Scroogerecognisingeverygate，andpost，andtree；untilalittlemarket—townappearedinthedistance，withitsbridge，itschurch，andwindingriver。Someshaggyponiesnowwereseentrottingtowardsthemwithboysupontheirbacks，whocalledtootherboysincountrygigsandcarts，drivenbyfarmers。Alltheseboyswereingreatspirits，andshoutedtoeachother，untilthebroadfieldsweresofullofmerrymusic，thatthecrispairlaughedtohearit。
　　``Thesearebutshadowsofthethingsthathavebeen，’’saidtheGhost。
　　``Theyhavenoconsciousnessofus。’’
　　Thejocundtravellerscameon；andastheycame，Scroogeknewandnamedthemeveryone。Whywasherejoicedbeyondallboundstoseethem!Whydidhiscoldeyeglisten，andhisheartleapupastheywentpast!WhywashefilledwithgladnesswhenheheardthemgiveeachotherMerryChristmas，astheypartedatcross—roadsandbye—ways，fortheirseveralhomes!WhatwasmerryChristmastoScrooge？OutuponmerryChristmas!Whatgoodhaditeverdonetohim？
　　``Theschoolisnotquitedeserted，’’saidtheGhost。``Asolitarychild，neglectedbyhisfriends，islefttherestill。’’
　　Scroogesaidheknewit。Andhesobbed。
　　Theyleftthehigh—road，byawell—rememberedlane，andsoonapproachedamansionofdullredbrick，withalittleweathercock—surmountedcupola，ontheroof，andabellhanginginit。Itwasalargehouse，butoneofbrokenfortunes；forthespaciousofficeswerelittleused，theirwallsweredampandmossy，theirwindowsbroken，andtheirgatesdecayed。Fowlscluckedandstruttedinthestables；andthecoach—housesandshedswereover—runwithgrass。Norwasitmoreretentiveofitsancientstate，within；
　　forenteringthedrearyhall，andglancingthroughtheopendoorsofmanyrooms，theyfoundthempoorlyfurnished，cold，andvast。Therewasanearthysavourintheair，achillybarenessintheplace，whichassociateditselfsomehowwithtoomuchgettingupbycandle—light，andnottoomuchtoeat。
　　Theywent，theGhostandScrooge，acrossthehall，toadooratthebackofthehouse。Itopenedbeforethem，anddisclosedalong，bare，melancholyroom，madebarerstillbylinesofplaindealformsanddesks。Atoneofthesealonelyboywasreadingnearafeeblefire；andScroogesatdownuponaform，andwepttoseehispoorforgottenselfasheusedtobe。
　　Notalatentechointhehouse，notasqueakandscufflefromthemicebehindthepanneling，notadripfromthehalf—thawedwater—spoutinthedullyardbehind，notasighamongtheleaflessboughsofonedespondentpoplar，nottheidleswingingofanemptystore—housedoor，no，notaclickinginthefire，butfellupontheheartofScroogewithasofteninginfluence，andgaveafreerpassagetohistears。
　　TheSpirittouchedhimonthearm，andpointedtohisyoungerself，intentuponhisreading。Suddenlyaman，inforeigngarments：wonderfullyrealanddistincttolookat：stoodoutsidethewindow，withanaxestuckinhisbelt，andleadinganassladenwithwoodbythebridle。
　　``Why，it’sAliBaba!’’Scroogeexclaimedinecstasy。``It’sdearoldhonestAliBaba!Yes，yes，Iknow!OneChristmastime，whenyondersolitarychildwaslefthereallalone，hedidcome，forthefirsttime，justlikethat。Poorboy!AndValentine，’’saidScrooge，``andhiswildbrother，Orson；theretheygo!Andwhat’shisname，whowasputdowninhisdrawers，asleep，attheGateofDamascus；don’tyouseehim!AndtheSultan’sGroomturnedupside—downbytheGenii；thereheisuponhishead!
　　Servehimright。I’mgladofit。WhatbusinesshadhetobemarriedtothePrincess!’’
　　TohearScroogeexpendingalltheearnestnessofhisnatureonsuchsubjects，inamostextraordinaryvoicebetweenlaughingandcrying；andtoseehisheightenedandexcitedface；wouldhavebeenasurprisetohisbusinessfriendsinthecity，indeed。
　　``There’stheParrot!’’criedScrooge。``Greenbodyandyellowtail，withathinglikealettucegrowingoutofthetopofhishead；thereheis!PoorRobinCrusoe，hecalledhim，whenhecamehomeagainaftersailingroundtheisland。``PoorRobinCrusoe，wherehaveyoubeen，RobinCrusoe？’’
　　Themanthoughthewasdreaming，buthewasn’t。ItwastheParrot，youknow。TheregoesFriday，runningforhislifetothelittlecreek!Halloa!
　　Hoop!Halloo!’’
　　Then，witharapidityoftransitionveryforeigntohisusualcharacter，hesaid，inpityforhisformerself，``Poorboy!’’andcriedagain。
　　``Iwish，’’Scroogemuttered，puttinghishandinhispocket，andlookingabouthim，afterdryinghiseyeswithhiscuff：``butit’stoolatenow。’’
　　``Whatisthematter？’’askedtheSpirit。
　　``Nothing，’’saidScrooge。``Nothing。TherewasaboysingingaChristmasCarolatmydoorlastnight。Ishouldliketohavegivenhimsomething：
　　that’sall。’’
　　TheGhostsmiledthoughtfully，andwaveditshand：sayingasitdidso，``LetusseeanotherChristmas!’’
　　Scrooge’sformerselfgrewlargeratthewords，andtheroombecamealittledarkerandmoredirty。Thepanelsshrunk，thewindowscracked；
　　fragmentsofplasterfelloutoftheceiling，andthenakedlathswereshowninstead；buthowallthiswasbroughtabout，Scroogeknewnomorethanyoudo。Heonlyknewthatitwasquitecorrect；thateverythinghadhappenedso；thattherehewas，aloneagain，whenalltheotherboyshadgonehomeforthejollyholidays。
　　Hewasnotreadingnow，butwalkingupanddowndespairingly。ScroogelookedattheGhost，andwithamournfulshakingofhishead，glancedanxiouslytowardsthedoor。
　　Itopened；andalittlegirl，muchyoungerthantheboy，camedartingin，andputtingherarmsabouthisneck，andoftenkissinghim，addressedhimasher``Dear，dearbrother。’’
　　``Ihavecometobringyouhome，dearbrother!’’saidthechild，clappinghertinyhands，andbendingdowntolaugh。``Tobringyouhome，home，home!’’
　　``Home，littleFan？’’returnedtheboy。
　　``Yes!’’saidthechild，brimfulofglee。``Home，forgoodandall。
　　Home，foreverandever。Fatherissomuchkinderthanheusedtobe，thathome’slikeHeaven!HespokesogentlytomeonedearnightwhenIwasgoingtobed，thatIwasnotafraidtoaskhimoncemoreifyoumightcomehome；andhesaidYes，youshould；andsentmeinacoachtobringyou。
　　Andyou’retobeaman!’’saidthechild，openinghereyes，``andarenevertocomebackhere；butfirst，we’retobetogetheralltheChristmaslong，andhavethemerriesttimeinalltheworld。’’
　　``Youarequiteawoman，littleFan!’’exclaimedtheboy。