_Scrooge._ I do. Out upon merry Christmas! What's Christmas-time to _you_ but a time for paying bills without money,—a time for finding yourself a year older, and not an hour richer? Bah! If I had my will, every idiot who goes about with "Merry Christmas" on his lips should be boiled with his own pudding, and burned with a stake of holly through his heart, he should. _Fred._ Uncle! _Scrooge._ Nephew, keep Christmas in your own way, and let me keep it in mine. _Fred._ Keep it! But you don't keep it. _Scrooge._ Let me leave it alone, then. Much good may it do you! Much good it has ever _done_ you. _Fred._ There are many good things, from which I might have derived good, by which I have not profited, I dare say Christmas among the rest. But I am sure I have always thought of Christmas-time when it has come round, apart from the veneration due to its sacred origin (if any thing belonging to it can be apart from that), as a good time,—a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time,—the only time I know of in the long calendar of the year when men and women seem, by one consent, to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-travellers to the grave, and not another race of creatures, bound on other journeys. And therefore, uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and _will_ do me good; and I say, God bless it! (BOB _claps his hands heartily_.) _Scrooge._ Let me hear another sound from you, and you'll keep your Christmas by losing your situation. (_To_ FRED.) You're quite a powerful speaker, sir. I wonder you don't go into Parliament. _Fred._ Don't be angry, uncle. Come, dine with us to-morrow. _Scrooge._ I'll see you—(BOB _sneezes violently_.) What's the matter with _you_? _Fred._ Come, uncle; say "Yes." _Scrooge._ No. _Fred._ But why? why? _Scrooge._ Why did you get married? _Fred._ Because I fell in love. _Scrooge._ Because you fell in love! (_Suddenly turns to his desk._) Good afternoon. _Fred._ Nay, uncle, you never came to see me before that happened. Why give it as a reason for not coming now? _Scrooge._ Good afternoon. _Fred._ I want nothing from you: I ask nothing from you. Why cannot we be friends? _Scrooge._ Good afternoon. _Fred._ I am sorry, with all my heart, to find you so resolute. But I have made the trial, in homage to Christmas; and I'll keep my Christmas humor to the last. So a merry Christmas, uncle! _Scrooge._ Good afternoon. _Fred._ And a happy new year! _Scrooge._ Good afternoon. _Fred_ (_turns to_ R.) Bob Cratchit, a merry Christmas! _Bob_ (_shakes_ FRED'S _hand_). A merry Christmas, sir. God bless it! _Fred._ Ay, God bless it! and a happy new year. _Bob._ And a happy new year, sir; God bless that too!