03-02-01-圣诞欢歌 [1]
．‘come and have dinner with us tomorrow．’
‘Dinner with you？I'll see you dead first！’
‘But why won't you come？Why？’
‘Because Christmas is humbug！Good afternoon！’
‘I want nothing from you．I ask nothing of you．Why can't we be friends？’
‘Good afternoon！’said Scrooge．
‘I am sorry，with all my heart，to find you like this．I have never wanted to argue with you．But I came to see you and invite you because it's Christmas，and so I'll say，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，stopping only to wish Bob Cratchit a merry Christmas．
Then two other gentlemen came in．They were large，round，comfortable-looking men，with books and papers in their hands．
‘This is Scrooge and Marley's，I think，’said one of them， looking at the papers that he was carrying．‘Am I speaking to Mr Scrooge or Mr Marley？’
‘Mr Marley is dead，’scrooge replied．‘He died seven years ago today，on Christmas Eve．’
‘I'm sure that you are just as kind to the poor as your partner，’said the gentleman，smiling．
What was true was that Scrooge was just as mean as Marley，and Marley had been just as mean as Scrooge．
‘At this happy time of year，Mr Scrooge，’the gentleman went on，taking up his pen，‘we should help poor people who have no food or clothes or homes．’
‘Are there no prisons？’asked Scrooge coldly．
‘Plenty of prisons，’said the gentleman．
‘And the workhouses，where poor people can live and work？Are they still open？’
‘Yes，they are，I'm sorry to say．’
‘I'm happy to hear It，’said Scrooge．‘I thought，from what you said at first，that perhaps these useful places were closed，for some reason．’
‘But some of us feel，’replied the gentleman，‘that these places don't offer enough to poor people．We're hoping to give some meat and drink，and wood for a fire，to people who need all these things．This is a time when we should all be able to enjoy ourselves．How much will you give，sir？’
‘Nothing！’scrooge replied．‘I don't have a merry Christmas myself，and I won't pay for other people to be merry．We all have to pay for prisons and workhouses—they cost enough．The poor will have to go there．’
‘Many can't go there，and many prefer to die．’
‘If they prefer to die，why don't they die，then？There are too many people in the world，so it's a good thing if some of them die．All this is none of my business！It's enough for a man to understand his own business，and not to think about other people's．I'm a very busy man．Good afternoon，gentlemen！’
The gentlemen shook their heads a little sadly，and left the office．Scrooge went back to his work，feeling pleased with himself．
Now the fog was at its thickest outside，and the cold was biting．Lights shone brightly from the shop windows．People were hurrying here and there—rich and poor alike－to buy what they needed for tomorrow's Christmas dinner．
At last it was time to close the office．Scrooge got up slowly from his desk．Bob was waiting for this moment，and he immediately put on his hat．
‘You'll want a holiday all day tomorrow，I suppose？’said Scrooge．
‘If you don't mind，sir．’
‘I do mind．It's not fair．I have to pay you for a day's work when you don't do any work．’
‘It's only once a year，sir，’said Bob politely．
‘That's no reason for robbing me every twenty-fifth of December！’said Scrooge，putting on his coat．‘But I suppose you must have it．Be here early next morning．’
‘Yes，sir，I will，I promise，’Bob said happily．Scrooge walked out，without another word．When bob had closed the office，he ran home to his family in Camden Town as quickly as possible．
Scrooge always used to eat his dinner alone，in the same miserable little eating-house．Tonight was no different from other nights．He read the newspapers，looked at his bank books， and went home to bed．He lived in rooms which had once belonged to his dead partner．They were in an old，dark building in a lonely side street，where no one except Scrooge lived．
In the blackness of the night，through the fog and the frost， Scrooge had to feel his way along the street with his hands
‘Dinner with you？I'll see you dead first！’
‘But why won't you come？Why？’
‘Because Christmas is humbug！Good afternoon！’
‘I want nothing from you．I ask nothing of you．Why can't we be friends？’
‘Good afternoon！’said Scrooge．
‘I am sorry，with all my heart，to find you like this．I have never wanted to argue with you．But I came to see you and invite you because it's Christmas，and so I'll say，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，stopping only to wish Bob Cratchit a merry Christmas．
Then two other gentlemen came in．They were large，round，comfortable-looking men，with books and papers in their hands．
‘This is Scrooge and Marley's，I think，’said one of them， looking at the papers that he was carrying．‘Am I speaking to Mr Scrooge or Mr Marley？’
‘Mr Marley is dead，’scrooge replied．‘He died seven years ago today，on Christmas Eve．’
‘I'm sure that you are just as kind to the poor as your partner，’said the gentleman，smiling．
What was true was that Scrooge was just as mean as Marley，and Marley had been just as mean as Scrooge．
‘At this happy time of year，Mr Scrooge，’the gentleman went on，taking up his pen，‘we should help poor people who have no food or clothes or homes．’
‘Are there no prisons？’asked Scrooge coldly．
‘Plenty of prisons，’said the gentleman．
‘And the workhouses，where poor people can live and work？Are they still open？’
‘Yes，they are，I'm sorry to say．’
‘I'm happy to hear It，’said Scrooge．‘I thought，from what you said at first，that perhaps these useful places were closed，for some reason．’
‘But some of us feel，’replied the gentleman，‘that these places don't offer enough to poor people．We're hoping to give some meat and drink，and wood for a fire，to people who need all these things．This is a time when we should all be able to enjoy ourselves．How much will you give，sir？’
‘Nothing！’scrooge replied．‘I don't have a merry Christmas myself，and I won't pay for other people to be merry．We all have to pay for prisons and workhouses—they cost enough．The poor will have to go there．’
‘Many can't go there，and many prefer to die．’
‘If they prefer to die，why don't they die，then？There are too many people in the world，so it's a good thing if some of them die．All this is none of my business！It's enough for a man to understand his own business，and not to think about other people's．I'm a very busy man．Good afternoon，gentlemen！’
The gentlemen shook their heads a little sadly，and left the office．Scrooge went back to his work，feeling pleased with himself．
Now the fog was at its thickest outside，and the cold was biting．Lights shone brightly from the shop windows．People were hurrying here and there—rich and poor alike－to buy what they needed for tomorrow's Christmas dinner．
At last it was time to close the office．Scrooge got up slowly from his desk．Bob was waiting for this moment，and he immediately put on his hat．
‘You'll want a holiday all day tomorrow，I suppose？’said Scrooge．
‘If you don't mind，sir．’
‘I do mind．It's not fair．I have to pay you for a day's work when you don't do any work．’
‘It's only once a year，sir，’said Bob politely．
‘That's no reason for robbing me every twenty-fifth of December！’said Scrooge，putting on his coat．‘But I suppose you must have it．Be here early next morning．’
‘Yes，sir，I will，I promise，’Bob said happily．Scrooge walked out，without another word．When bob had closed the office，he ran home to his family in Camden Town as quickly as possible．
Scrooge always used to eat his dinner alone，in the same miserable little eating-house．Tonight was no different from other nights．He read the newspapers，looked at his bank books， and went home to bed．He lived in rooms which had once belonged to his dead partner．They were in an old，dark building in a lonely side street，where no one except Scrooge lived．
In the blackness of the night，through the fog and the frost， Scrooge had to feel his way along the street with his hands