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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Стр. 2/78
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But
what
did
Scrooge
care
!
It
was
the
very
thing
he
liked
.
To
edge
his
way
along
the
crowded
paths
of
life
,
warning
all
human
sympathy
to
keep
its
distance
,
was
what
the
knowing
ones
call
'
nuts
'
to
Scrooge
.
Once
upon
a
time
--
of
all
the
good
days
in
the
year
,
on
Christmas
Eve
--
old
Scrooge
sat
busy
in
his
counting-house
.
It
was
cold
,
bleak
,
biting
weather
:
foggy
withal
:
and
he
could
hear
the
people
in
the
court
outside
,
go
wheezing
up
and
down
,
beating
their
hands
upon
their
breasts
,
and
stamping
their
feet
upon
the
pavement
stones
to
warm
them
.
The
city
clocks
had
only
just
gone
three
,
but
it
was
quite
dark
already
--
it
had
not
been
light
all
day
--
and
candles
were
flaring
in
the
windows
of
the
neighbouring
offices
,
like
ruddy
smears
upon
the
palpable
brown
air
.
The
fog
came
pouring
in
at
every
chink
and
keyhole
,
and
was
so
dense
without
,
that
although
the
court
was
of
the
narrowest
,
the
houses
opposite
were
mere
phantoms
.
To
see
the
dingy
cloud
come
drooping
down
,
obscuring
everything
,
one
might
have
thought
that
Nature
lived
hard
by
,
and
was
brewing
on
a
large
scale
.
The
door
of
Scrooge
's
counting-house
was
open
that
he
might
keep
his
eye
upon
his
clerk
,
who
in
a
dismal
little
cell
beyond
,
a
sort
of
tank
,
was
copying
letters
.
Scrooge
had
a
very
small
fire
,
but
the
clerk
's
fire
was
so
very
much
smaller
that
it
looked
like
one
coal
.
But
he
could
n't
replenish
it
,
for
Scrooge
kept
the
coal-box
in
his
own
room
;
and
so
surely
as
the
clerk
came
in
with
the
shovel
,
the
master
predicted
that
it
would
be
necessary
for
them
to
part
.
Wherefore
the
clerk
put
on
his
white
comforter
,
and
tried
to
warm
himself
at
the
candle
;
in
which
effort
,
not
being
a
man
of
a
strong
imagination
,
he
failed
.
'
A
merry
Christmas
,
uncle
!
God
save
you
!
'
cried
a
cheerful
voice
.
It
was
the
voice
of
Scrooge
's
nephew
,
who
came
upon
him
so
quickly
that
this
was
the
first
intimation
he
had
of
his
approach
.
'
Bah
!
'
said
Scrooge
,
'
Humbug
!
'
He
had
so
heated
himself
with
rapid
walking
in
the
fog
and
frost
,
this
nephew
of
Scrooge
's
,
that
he
was
all
in
a
glow
;
his
face
was
ruddy
and
handsome
;
his
eyes
sparkled
,
and
his
breath
smoked
again
.
'
Christmas
a
humbug
,
uncle
!
'
said
Scrooge
's
nephew
.
'
You
do
n't
mean
that
,
I
am
sure
?
'
'
I
do
,
'
said
Scrooge
.
'
Merry
Christmas
!
What
right
have
you
to
be
merry
?
What
reason
have
you
to
be
merry
?
You
're
poor
enough
.
'
'
Come
,
then
,
'
returned
the
nephew
gaily
.
'
What
right
have
you
to
be
dismal
?
What
reason
have
you
to
be
morose
?
You
're
rich
enough
.
'
