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Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips
left in the whole wide world.
and have not charity, l am nothing.
For which your father never forgave you, as if you were to blame.
By changing toward the world.
Now see yourself in business, Ebenezer.
eight shillings and 10 pence.
Look there's Old Fezziwig and Mrs. Fezziwig, top couple!
Keep valentines day in your own way and leave me keep it in mine
Now let me see, l must have a label.
Pardon me...
Merry Christmas, Sir!
Aaaaaaaaah!
With angelic hosts, proclaim,
would be poor compensation for the panic that would arise among the share holders.
And the offer is a very large one, l have to admit,
Then you no longer love me?
No?
Bed curtains.
Well, a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to the poor old man.
Ha, well if it ain't, l don't know what is.
After you, l'm sure.
Then why should you ask me for more time to pay it back?
lt never would have been Christmas, if they'd kept you late.
You must be cold and tired. Sit near the fire.
Thank you, Sir, and a Merry Christmas to you, Sir, l'm sure.
Join the triumph of the skies;
And l do repent, l do repent!
Why, that's you, Peter! What is it, Father? Yeah, what is it?
Good.
He shall call upon me, and l will answer him :
Sit you down before the fire,
and you won't find a hole in it.
He doesn't know me, nor even what l look like.
Won't it, Martha, my dear? Eh, Tim?
A place where miners live, who labor in the bowels of the earth.
From now on,
you old humbug!
You do not know the weight and length of strong chain you bear yourself.
No.
ls he dead?
Dear Mrs. Dilbur, oh... how much do l pay you?
This must be distinctly understood or nothing wonderful can come of
Then, you must live forever, Fan.
Well, what do you want?
The curtains are still here. They're still here!
for having no eyes to see with, no ears to hear with,
They cling to me for protection from their fetters.
lt'll be a perfect pudding my love. A perfect pudding.
l'll come in a minute. - All right.
We...
the story l'm going to relate.
Spirit, are these yours?
Oh, so you hate progress and money too, do you?
l'm sure of it. - And the pudding! Oh, the pudding!
The ruin of you, you mean.
l must bow to your conviction that you are.
Alice?
And every Christmas, it's
Path to exile your Commander!
lt's poetic justice.
lt's Fan!
Who's the wiser?
Yes, thank you, Ma-ma. Did you get the big goose?
l await you.
l confess, l've had my doubts about the quantity of flour.
Oh, but gentlemen it could have been any one of you.
We're men of vision and progress.
We small traders are all history, Mr. Fezziwig.
Are there no prisons? Are there no workhouses?
l wish to be left alone.
More bread.
ln life, l was your partner,
l've come to them.
How did little Tim behave in church?
And l wouldn't show your father weak eyes, when he comes home, for the world.