天才一秒记住【阅读阁】地址：yueduge.cc
Holly，mistletoe，redberries，ivy，turkeys，geese，game，poultry，brawn，meat，pigs，sausages，oysters，pies，puddings，fruit，andpunch，allvanishedinstantly。Sodidtheroom，thefire，theruddyglow，thehourofnight，andtheystoodinthecitystreetsonChristmasmorning，where（fortheweatherwassevere）thepeoplemadearough，butbriskandnotunpleasantkindofmusic，inscrapingthesnowfromthepavementinfrontoftheirdwellings，andfromthetopsoftheirhouses，whenceitwasmaddelighttotheboystoseeitcomeplumpingdownintotheroadbelow，andsplittingintoartificiallittlesnow-storms。
Thehousefrontslookedblackenough，andthewindowsblacker，contrastingwiththesmoothwhitesheetofsnowupontheroofs，andwiththedirtiersnowupontheground；whichlastdeposithadbeenploughedupindeepfurrowsbytheheavywheelsofcartsandwaggons；furrowsthatcrossedandrecrossedeachotherhundredsoftimeswherethegreatstreetsbranchedoff；andmadeintricatechannels，hardtotraceinthethickyellowmudandicywater。Theskywasgloomy，andtheshorteststreetswerechokedupwithadingymist，halfthawed，halffrozen，whoseheavierparticlesdescendedinashowerofsootyatoms，asifallthechimneysinGreatBritainhad，byoneconsent，caughtfire，andwereblazingawaytotheirdearhearts‘content。Therewasnothingverycheerfulintheclimateorthetown，andyetwasthereanairofcheerfulnessabroadthattheclearestsummerairandbrightestsummersunmighthaveendeavouredtodiffuseinvain。
For，thepeoplewhowereshovellingawayonthehousetopswerejovialandfullofglee；callingouttooneanotherfromtheparapets，andnowandthenexchangingafacetioussnowball--better-naturedmissilefarthanmanyawordyjest--laughingheartilyifitwentrightandnotlessheartilyifitwentwrong。Thepoulterers‘shopswerestillhalfopen，andthefruiterers’wereradiantintheirglory。Thereweregreat，round，round，pot-belliedbasketsofchestnuts，shapedlikethewaistcoatsofjollyoldgentlemen，lollingatthedoors，andtumblingoutintothestreetintheirapoplecticopulence。Therewereruddy，brown-faced，broad-girthedSpanishonions，shininginthefatnessoftheirgrowthlikeSpanishFriars，andwinkingfromtheirshelvesinwantonslynessatthegirlsastheywentby，andglanceddemurelyatthehung-upmistletoe。Therewerepearsandapples，clusteredhighinbloomingpyramids；therewerebunchesofgrapes，made，intheshopkeepers‘benevolence，todanglefromconspicuoushooks，thatpeople'smouthsmightwatergratisastheypassed；therewerepilesoffilberts，mossyandbrown，recalling，intheirfragrance，ancientwalksamongthewoods，andpleasantshufflingsankledeepthroughwitheredleaves；therewereNorfolkBiffins，squatandswarthy，settingofftheyellowoftheorangesandlemons，and，inthegreatcompactnessoftheirjuicypersons，urgentlyentreatingandbeseechingtobecarriedhomeinpaperbagsandeatenafterdinner。Theverygoldandsilverfish，setforthamongthesechoicefruitsinabowl，thoughmembersofadullandstagnant-bloodedrace，appearedtoknowthattherewassomethinggoingon；and，toafish，wentgaspingroundandroundtheirlittleworldinslowandpassionlessexcitement。
TheGrocers‘！oh，theGrocers’！nearlyclosed，withperhapstwoshuttersdown，orone；butthroughthosegapssuchglimpses！Itwasnotalonethatthescalesdescendingonthecountermadeamerrysound，orthatthetwineandrollerpartedcompanysobriskly，orthatthecanisterswererattledupanddownlikejugglingtricks，oreventhattheblendedscentsofteaandcoffeeweresogratefultothenose，oreventhattheraisinsweresoplentifulandrare，thealmondssoextremelywhite，thesticksofcinnamonsolongandstraight，theotherspicessodelicious，thecandiedfruitssocakedandspottedwithmoltensugarastomakethecoldestlookers-onfeelfaintandsubsequentlybilious。Norwasitthatthefigsweremoistandpulpy，orthattheFrenchplumsblushedinmodesttartnessfromtheirhighly-decoratedboxes，orthateverythingwasgoodtoeatandinitsChristmasdress；butthecustomerswereallsohurriedandsoeagerinthehopefulpromiseoftheday，thattheytumbledupagainsteachotheratthedoor，crashingtheirwickerbasketswildly，andlefttheirpurchasesuponthecounter，andcamerunningbacktofetchthem，andcommittedhundredsofthelikemistakes，inthebesthumourpossible；whiletheGrocerandhispeopleweresofrankandfreshthatthepolishedheartswithwhichtheyfastenedtheirapronsbehindmighthavebeentheirown，wornoutsideforgeneralinspection，andforChristmasdawstopeckatiftheychose。
Butsoonthesteeplescalledgoodpeopleall，tochurchandchapel，andawaytheycame，flockingthroughthestreetsintheirbestclothes，andwiththeirgayestfaces。Andatthesametimethereemergedfromscoresofbye-streets，lanes，andnamelessturnings，innumerablepeople，carryingtheirdinnerstothebaker‘shops。ThesightofthesepoorrevellersappearedtointeresttheSpiritverymuch，forhestoodwithScroogebesidehiminabaker'sdoorway，andtakingoffthecoversastheirbearerspassed，sprinkledincenseontheirdinnersfromhistorch。Anditwasaveryuncommonkindoftorch，foronceortwicewhentherewereangrywordsbetweensomedinner-carrierswhohadjostledeachother，heshedafewdropsofwateronthemfromit，andtheirgoodhumourwasrestoreddirectly。Fortheysaid，itwasashametoquarreluponChristmasDay。Andsoitwas。Godloveit，soitwas。
Intimethebellsceased，andthebakerswereshutup；andyettherewasagenialshadowingforthofallthesedinnersandtheprogressoftheircooking，inthethawedblotchofwetaboveeachbaker'soven；wherethepavementsmokedasifitsstoneswerecookingtoo。
`Isthereapeculiarflavourinwhatyousprinklefromyourtorch？‘askedScrooge。
`Thereis。Myown。‘
`Woulditapplytoanykindofdinneronthisday？‘askedScrooge。
`Toanykindlygiven。Toapooronemost。‘
`Whytoapooronemost？‘askedScrooge。
`Becauseitneedsitmost。‘
`Spirit，‘saidScrooge，afteramoment'sthought，`Iwonderyou，ofallthebeingsinthemanyworldsaboutus，shoulddesiretocrampthesepeople'sopportunitiesofinnocentenjoyment。’
`I？‘criedtheSpirit。
`Youwoulddeprivethemoftheirmeansofdiningeveryseventhday，oftentheonlydayonwhichtheycanbesaidtodineatall，‘saidScrooge。`Wouldn'tyou？’
`I？‘criedtheSpirit。
`YouseektoclosetheseplacesontheSeventhDay，‘saidScrooge。`Anditcomestothesamething！’
`Iseek？‘exclaimedtheSpirit。
`ForgivemeifIamwrong。Ithasbeendoneinyourname，oratleastinthatofyourfamily，‘saidScrooge。
`Therearesomeuponthisearthofyours，‘returnedtheSpirit，`wholayclaimtoknowus，andwhodotheirdeedsofpassion，pride，ill-will，hatred，envy，bigotry，andselfishnessinourname，whoareasstrangetousandallourkithandkin，asiftheyhadneverlived。Rememberthat，andchargetheirdoingsonthemselves，notus。’
Scroogepromisedthathewould；andtheywenton，invisible，astheyhadbeenbefore，intothesuburbsofthetown。ItwasaremarkablequalityoftheGhost（whichScroogehadobservedatthebaker's），thatnotwithstandinghisgiganticsize，hecouldaccommodatehimselftoanyplacewithease；andthathestoodbeneathalowroofquiteasgracefullyandlikeasupernaturalcreature，asitwaspossiblehecouldhavedoneinanyloftyhall。
AndperhapsitwasthepleasurethegoodSpirithadinshowingoffthispowerofhis，orelseitwashisownkind，generous，heartynature，andhissympathywithallpoormen，thatledhimstraighttoScrooge'sclerk's；fortherehewent，andtookScroogewithhim，holdingtohisrobe；andonthethresholdofthedoortheSpiritsmiled，andstoppedtoblessBobCratchit'sdwellingwiththesprinklingofhistorch。Thinkofthat。Bobhadbutfifteenboba-weekhimself；hepocketedonSaturdaysbutfifteencopiesofhisChristianname；andyettheGhostofChristmasPresentblessedhisfour-roomedhouse。
ThenuproseMrsCratchit，Cratchit'swife，dressedoutbutpoorlyinatwice-turnedgown，butbraveinribbons，whicharecheapandmakeagoodlyshowforsixpence；andshelaidthecloth，assistedbyBelindaCratchit，secondofherdaughters，alsobraveinribbons；whileMasterPeterCratchitplungedaforkintothesaucepanofpotatoes，andgettingthecornersofhismonstrousshirtcollar（Bob'sprivateproperty，conferreduponhissonandheirinhonouroftheday）intohismouth，rejoicedtofindhimselfsogallantlyattired，andyearnedtoshowhislineninthefashionableParks。AndnowtwosmallerCratchits，boyandgirl，cametearingin，screamingthatoutsidethebaker'stheyhadsmeltthegoose，andknownitfortheirown；andbaskinginluxuriousthoughtsofsageandonion，theseyoungCratchitsdancedaboutthetable，andexaltedMasterPeterCratchittotheskies，whilehe（notproud，althoughhiscollarsnearlychokedhim）blewthefire，untiltheslowpotatoesbubblingup，knockedloudlyatthesaucepan-lidtobeletoutandpeeled。
`Whathasevergotyourpreciousfatherthen？‘saidMrsCratchit。`Andyourbrother，TinyTim。AndMarthawarn'taslatelastChristmasDaybyhalf-an-hour。’
`Here'sMartha，mother，‘saidagirl，appearingasshespoke。
`Here'sMartha，mother！‘criedthetwoyoungCratchits。`Hurrah！There'ssuchagoose，Martha！’
`Why，blessyourheartalive，mydear，howlateyouare！‘saidMrsCratchit，kissingheradozentimes，andtakingoffhershawlandbonnetforherwithofficiouszeal。
`We'dadealofworktofinishuplastnight，‘repliedthegirl，`andhadtoclearawaythismorning，mother。’
`Well！Nevermindsolongasyouarecome，‘saidMrsCratchit。`Sityedownbeforethefire，mydear，andhaveawarm，Lordblessye。’
`No，no。There'sfathercoming，‘criedthetwoyoungCratchits，whowereeverywhereatonce。`Hide，Martha，hide！’
SoMarthahidherself，andincamelittleBob，thefather，withatleastthreefeetofcomforterexclusiveofthefringe，hangingdownbeforehim；andhisthreadbareclothesdarnedupandbrushed，tolookseasonable；andTinyTimuponhisshoulder。AlasforTinyTim，heborealittlecrutch，andhadhislimbssupportedbyanironframe。
`Why，where'sourMartha？‘criedBobCratchit，lookinground。
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