Excerpt from A Christmas Carol
Christmas a humbug, uncle You don't mean that, I am sure?
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 a time for balancing your books and having every item in 'em through a round dozen of months presented dead against you? If I had my will, every idiot who goes about with 'merry. Christmas on his lips should be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart. He should
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