Scrooge laughed, a sound like a rusty hinge finally being oiled. "I haven't missed it! The spirits have done it all in one night!"
The door creaked open, and in bounced Fred, Scrooge’s nephew, a man whose smile could light up the gloomiest alley. "A Merry Christmas, uncle! God save you!" "Bah!" said Scrooge. "Humbug!" subtitle The Muppet Christmas Carol
And from that day forward, it was said of him that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge. He became as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a man as the good old city knew. And as Tiny Tim observed, "God bless us, every one!" Scrooge laughed, a sound like a rusty hinge
In the drafty, cobblestoned heart of London, where the fog clung to the gaslights like a cold, wet wool coat, lived a man whose heart was a frozen pea. Ebenezer Scrooge was his name, and to say he was "mean" was like saying the sun was "a bit warm." He was a tight-fisted, squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous old sinner. "A Merry Christmas, uncle
Fred left, undeterred, and Scrooge returned to his accounts. But the night was young, and the spirits of the past were stirring.
He shared his counting-house with his clerk, Bob Cratchit, a man whose kindness was as vast as his paycheck was tiny. Bob, who happened to be a frog of great character, shivered in the corner, trying to warm his hands over a single, flickering candle.