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。