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	<Titel Typ="main">A Christmas Carol</Titel>
	<Titel Typ="sub">A machine-readable transcription</Titel>
	<Autor>Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870</Autor>
      </TitelInfo>
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	<Ausgabe>Public Domain TEI edition prepared at the Oxford Text Archive</Ausgabe>
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	    <AdressZeile><Name key="oucs" Typ="organisation">Oxford University Computing Services</Name></AdressZeile>
	    <AdressZeile>13 Banbury Road</AdressZeile>
	    <AdressZeile><Name Typ="place">Oxford</Name></AdressZeile>
	    <AdressZeile>OX2 6NN</AdressZeile>
	    <AdressZeile>info@ota.ahds.ac.uk</AdressZeile>
	  </Adresse>
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	<IdNum Typ="ota">dick1736</IdNum>
	<Erhältlichkeit Status="free">
	  <p>Freely available for non-commercial 
	  use provided that this header is included in its 
	  entirety with any copy distributed</p>
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	<Datum>1992-11-01</Datum>
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	<p>Transcribed from the 1893 reprint of the first edition by Lou Burnard.</p>
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    <Vorspann>
      <div Typ="half_title_note">
	<Kopf>(half title note)</Kopf>
	<p>The Original Edition of A CHRISTMAS CAROL has been out of print
	for many years, and this Edition is a reprint from the stereotype
	plates of that Edition.</p>
      </div>
      <div Typ="preface">
	<Kopf>PREFACE
	
	</Kopf>
	<p>I have endeavoured in this Ghostly little book, to raise the
	Ghost of an Idea, which shall not put my readers out of humour
	with themselves, with each other, with the season, or with me.
	May it haunt their houses pleasantly, and no one wish to lay
	it. </p>
	<gezeichnet> Their faithful Friend and Servant, C.D. <Datum>December, 1843.</Datum></gezeichnet>
      </div>
      <div Typ="toc">
	<Liste>
	  <Kopf>Contents.</Kopf>
	  <Beschriftung>Stave I</Beschriftung>
	  <Punkt>Marley's ghost <Verweis target="#S1">1</Verweis></Punkt>
	  <Beschriftung>Stave II</Beschriftung>
	  <Punkt>The first of
	  the three spirits <Verweis target="#S2">39</Verweis></Punkt>
	  <Beschriftung>Stave
	  III </Beschriftung>
	  <Punkt>The second of the three spirits <Verweis target="#S3">74</Verweis></Punkt>
	  <Beschriftung>Stave IV </Beschriftung>
	  <Punkt>The last of
	  the spirits <Verweis target="#S4">121</Verweis></Punkt>
	  <Beschriftung>Stave V</Beschriftung>
	  <Punkt>The end of it <Verweis target="#S5">152</Verweis></Punkt>
	</Liste>
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    <Körper>
      <Kopf>A CHRISTMAS CAROL.</Kopf>
      <div1 xml:id="S1" Typ="stave">
	<Kopf>MARLEY'S GHOST</Kopf>
	<su n="1"/>
	<p>Marley was dead: to begin with.  There is no doubt whatever
	about that.  The register of his burial was signed by the
	clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. 
	Scrooge signed it.  And Scrooge's name was good upon 'Change,
	for anything he chose to put his hand to.  Old Marley was as
	dead as a door-nail.
	
	</p>
	<p>Mind!  I don't mean to say that I know, of my own knowledge,
	what there is particularly dead about a door-nail. I might have
	been inclined, myself, to regard a coffin-nail as the deadest
	piece of ironmongery in the trade.  But the wisdom of our
	ancestors is in the simile; and my unhallowed <su n="2"/> hands
	shall not disturb it, or the Country's done for.  You will
	therefore permit me to repeat, emphatically, that Marley was as
	dead as a door-nail.
	
	</p>
	<p>Scrooge knew he was dead?  Of course he did.  How could it be
	otherwise?  Scrooge and he were partners for I don't know how many
	years.  Scrooge was his sole executor, his sole administrator, his sole
	assign, his sole residuary legatee, his sole friend, and sole mourner. 
	And even Scrooge was not so dreadfully cut up by the sad event, but
	that he was an excellent man of business on the very day of the
	funeral, and solemnised it with an undoubted bargain.
	
	</p>
	<p>The mention of Marley's funeral brings me back to the point I
	started from.  There is no doubt that Marley was dead.  This must be
	distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am
	going to relate.  If we were not perfectly convinced that Hamlet's
	Father died before the play began, there would be nothing more
	remarkable in his taking a stroll at night, in an easterly wind, upon
	his own ramparts, than there  <su n="3"/> would be in any other
	middle-aged gentleman rashly  turning out after dark in a breezy spot
	— say Saint  Paul's Churchyard for instance — literally to
	astonish his son's weak mind.
	
	</p>
	<p>Scrooge never painted out Old Marley's name.  There it stood,
	years afterwards, above the ware-house door: Scrooge and Marley.  The
	firm was known as Scrooge and Marley. Sometimes people new to the
	business called Scrooge Scrooge, and sometimes Marley, but he answered
	to both names.  It was all the same to him.
	
	</p>
	<p>Oh!  But he was a tight-fisted hand at the grindstone, Scrooge!  a
	squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous old
	sinner!  Hard and sharp as flint, from which no steel had ever struck
	out generous fire; secret, and self-contained, and solitary as an
	oyster.  The cold within him froze his old features, nipped his pointed
	nose, shrivelled his cheek, stiffened his gait; made his eyes red, his
	thin lips blue; and spoke out shrewdly in his grating voice.  A frosty
	rime was on his head, and on his eyebrows, and his wiry chin. He <su n="4"/>
	carried his own low temperature always about with him; he iced
	his office in the dog-days; and didn't thaw it one degree at
	Christmas.
	
	</p>
	<p>External heat and cold had little influence on Scrooge. No warmth
	could warm, no wintry weather chill him.  No wind that blew was
	bitterer than he, no falling snow was more intent upon its purpose, no
	pelting rain less open to entreaty. Foul weather didn't know where to
	have him.  The heaviest rain, and snow, and hail, and sleet, could
	boast of the advantage over him in only one respect.  They often
	<sogenannt>came down</sogenannt> handsomely, and Scrooge never did.
	
	</p>
	<p>Nobody ever stopped him in the street to say, with gladsome looks,
	<z>My dear Scrooge, how are you.  When will you come to see me.</z>  No
	beggars implored him to bestow a trifle, no children asked him what it
	was o'clock, no man or woman ever once in all his life inquired the way
	to such and such a place, of Scrooge.  Even the blindmen's dogs
	appeared to know him; and when they saw him coming on, would tug their
	owners into doorways <su n="5"/> and up courts; and then would wag their
	tails as though they said, <z>No eye at all is better than an evil eye,
	dark master! </z>
	
	</p>
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