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Strofe 5: La fini de la cosa

Stave V: The End of It

Si! E la palo de leto es sua propre. La leto es sua propre, la sala es sua propre. E la cosa la plu bon e felis de tota es ce la tempo futur es sua propre, en cual el pote compensa!

Yes! and the bedpost was his own. The bed was his own, the room was his own. Best and happiest of all, the Time before him was his own, to make amends in!

“Me va vive en la pasada, la presente e la futur!” – Scrooge repete, en cuando el trepa rapida de sua leto. – “La spiritos de tota la tre va labora en me. O, Jacob Marley! Ta ce on loda la sielo e la tempo de natal per esta! Me dise esta sur mea jenos, vea Jacob, sur mea jenos!”

“I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future!” Scrooge repeated, as he scrambled out of bed. “The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. Oh Jacob Marley! Heaven, and the Christmas Time be praised for this! I say it on my knees, old Jacob; on my knees!”

El es tan emosiosa e tan ardente con sua bon intendes ce sua vose balbutante pote apena responde a sua clama. En sua luta con la spirito, el ia sanglota forte, e sua fas es moiada par larmas.

He was so fluttered and so glowing with his good intentions, that his broken voice would scarcely answer to his call. He had been sobbing violently in his conflict with the Spirit, and his face was wet with tears.

“Los no es tirada a su,” – Scrooge esclama, pliante un de sua cortinas de leto en sua brasos – “los no es tirada a su, an la anelos. Los es asi – me es asi – me pote desapare la ombras de la avenis cual ta deveni real. Me va despare los. Me sabe lo!”

“They are not torn down,” cried Scrooge, folding one of his bed-curtains in his arms, “they are not torn down, rings and all. They are here – I am here – the shadows of the things that would have been, may be dispelled. They will be. I know they will!”

Sua manos es ocupada con sua vestes tra tota esta tempo, reversante los, portante los en modo inversada, laserante los, ponente los en maneras strana, aidada par los en cada spesie de estravagante.

His hands were busy with his garments all this time; turning them inside out, putting them on upside down, tearing them, mislaying them, making them parties to every kind of extravagance.

“Cual me ta fa? Me no sabe!” – Scrooge cria, riente e larmante en la mesma respira, e imitante perfeta la sculta de Laocoonte par sua calsas. – “Me es tan lejera como un pluma, me es tan felis como un anjel, me es tan joiosa como un xico. Me es tan mareada como un ebra. Un bon natal a tota! Un bon anio nova a tota la mundo. He, alo! U! Ui!”

“I don’t know what to do!” cried Scrooge, laughing and crying in the same breath; and making a perfect Laocoön of himself with his stockings. “I am as light as a feather, I am as happy as an angel, I am as merry as a schoolboy. I am as giddy as a drunken man. A merry Christmas to everybody! A happy New Year to all the world. Hallo here! Whoop! Hallo!”

El ia brinca ja a la salon, e sta aora ala, con un manca grande de respira.

He had frisked into the sitting-room, and was now standing there: perfectly winded.

“On ave ala la caserol cual ia conteni la gaxa!” – Scrooge esclama, recomensante, e dansante sirca la ximineria. – “On ave ala la porte, tra cual la fantasma de Jacob Marley ia entra! On ave ala la angulo do la Fantasma de Natal Presente ia senta! On ave ala la fenetra do me ia vide la spiritos vagante! Tota es bon, tota es vera, tota ia aveni! Ha ha ha!”

“There’s the saucepan that the gruel was in!” cried Scrooge, starting off again, and going round the fireplace. “There’s the door, by which the Ghost of Jacob Marley entered! There’s the corner where the Ghost of Christmas Present, sat! There’s the window where I saw the wandering Spirits! It’s all right, it’s all true, it all happened. Ha ha ha!”

Vera, per un om ci no ia pratica sua rie per tan multe anios, el rie en un modo merveliosa, la plu eselente: la padre de un linia longa, longa de ries briliante!

Really, for a man who had been out of practice for so many years, it was a splendid laugh, a most illustrious laugh. The father of a long, long line of brilliant laughs!

“Me no sabe cual dia de la mense nos ave!” – Scrooge dise – “Me no sabe per cuanto tempo me ia es entre la spiritos. Me sabe no cosa. Me es como un bebe. No importa. Lo es egal a me. Me ta prefere es un bebe. Ui! U! He, alo!”

“I don’t know what day of the month it is!” said Scrooge. “I don’t know how long I’ve been among the Spirits. I don’t know anything. I’m quite a baby. Never mind. I don’t care. I’d rather be a baby. Hallo! Whoop! Hallo here!”

Sua estasias es pausada par la eglesas, de cual sua campanas crea sonas la plu vivosa cual el ia oia ja. Pum, pam, pada; tin, tan, tal! Tal, tan, tin; pada, pam, pum! O, gloriosa, gloriosa!

He was checked in his transports by the churches ringing out the lustiest peals he had ever heard. Clash, clang, hammer; ding, dong, bell. Bell, dong, ding; hammer, clang, clash! Oh, glorious, glorious!

Corente a la fenetra, el abri lo, e protende sua testa. No nebla, no nebleta; clar, solosa, felis, emosiosa, fria; fria, sibilante tal ce la sangue dansa; lus oro de sol; sielo divin; aira dulse e fresca; campanas joiosa. O, gloriosa! Gloriosa!

Running to the window, he opened it, and put out his head. No fog, no mist; clear, bright, jovial, stirring, cold; cold, piping for the blood to dance to; Golden sunlight; Heavenly sky; sweet fresh air; merry bells. Oh, glorious! Glorious!

“Cual es la data?” – Scrooge cria, clamante a su a un xico en sua vestes de soldi, ci ia entra a la stradeta per regarda, cisa.

“What’s to-day!” cried Scrooge, calling downward to a boy in Sunday clothes, who perhaps had loitered in to look about him.

“Como?” – la xico replica, con tota sua fortia de stona.

“Eh?” returned the boy, with all his might of wonder.

“Cual es la data, mea bon xico?” – Scrooge dise.

“What’s to-day, my fine fellow?” said Scrooge.

“Oji?” – la xico responde – “Ma la dia de natal.”

“To-day!” replied the boy. “Why, Christmas Day.”

“Lo es la dia de natal!” – Scrooge dise a se – “Me no ia perde lo. La spiritos ia fa tota en un note. Los pote fa cualce cosa cual los vole. Natural los pote. Natural los pote. Alo, mea bon xico!”

“It’s Christmas Day!” said Scrooge to himself. “I haven’t missed it. The Spirits have done it all in one night. They can do anything they like. Of course they can. Of course they can. Hallo, my fine fellow!”

“Alo!” – la xico replica.

“Hallo!” returned the boy.

“Esce tu conose la carnor de avia, en la strada pos la visina, a la canto?” – Scrooge demanda.

“Do you know the Poulterer’s, in the next street but one, at the corner?” Scrooge inquired.

“Me ta espera ce me conose lo.” – la enfante responde.

“I should hope I did,” replied the lad.

“Un xico intelijente!” – Scrooge dise – “Un xico notable! Esce tu sabe esce los ia vende ja la pavo valuada cual ia pende ala? No la pavo peti, ma la grande?”

“An intelligent boy!” said Scrooge. “A remarkable boy! Do you know whether they’ve sold the prize Turkey that was hanging up there? – Not the little prize Turkey: the big one?”

“Lo cual es tan grande como me?” – la xico replica.

“What, the one as big as me?” returned the boy.

“Un xico deletosa!” – Scrooge dise – “Parla con el es un plaser. Si, mea joven!”

“What a delightful boy!” said Scrooge. “It’s a pleasure to talk to him. Yes, my buck!”

“Lo pende ala aora.” – la xico responde.

“It’s hanging there now,” replied the boy.

“Si?” – Scrooge dise – “Vade e compra lo.”

“Is it?” said Scrooge. “Go and buy it.”

“Riable!” – la xico esclama.

“Walk-er!” exclaimed the boy.

“No, no,” – Scrooge dise – “me es seria. Vade e compra lo, e dise ce on ta trae lo asi, afin me dona la adirije de la casa a cual on ta porta lo. Reveni con la om, e me va dona un xiling a tu. Reveni con el en min ca sinco minutos, e me va dona du xilinges e un dui!”

“No, no,” said Scrooge, “I am in earnest. Go and buy it, and tell ‘em to bring it here, that I may give them the direction where to take it. Come back with the man, and I’ll give you a shilling. Come back with him in less than five minutes and I’ll give you half-a-crown!”

La xico parti como un baleta. Cualcun ci pote xuta un baleta con an un dui de acel rapidia ta ave sua mano constante a la gatilio.

The boy was off like a shot. He must have had a steady hand at a trigger who could have got a shot off half so fast.

“Me va envia lo a Bob Cratchit!” – Scrooge xuxa, fricante sua manos, e esplodente con rie – “El no va sabe ci ia envia lo. Lo es plu grande ca Pico Tim a du veses. La umoristes ia fa nunca un tal broma como envia lo a Bob!”

“I’ll send it to Bob Cratchit’s!” whispered Scrooge, rubbing his hands, and splitting with a laugh. “He sha’n’t know who sends it. It’s twice the size of Tiny Tim. Joe Miller never made such a joke as sending it to Bob’s will be!”

La mano par cual el scrive la adirije no es sin tremas, ma el scrive lo en alga modo, e desende per abri la porte xef, en prepara per la veni de la om de la carnor. An cuando el sta ala, espetante la ariva, la bateporte saisi sua oio.

The hand in which he wrote the address was not a steady one, but write it he did, somehow, and went down-stairs to open the street door, ready for the coming of the poulterer’s man. As he stood there, waiting his arrival, the knocker caught his eye.

“Me va ama lo tra tota mea vive!” – Scrooge esclama, colpetante lo con sua mano – “Me ia regarda apena lo a ante. El ave un espresa tan onesta en sua fas! Lo es un bateporte merveliosa! – On ave asi la pavo! Alo! Ui! Como vade? Bon natal!”

“I shall love it, as long as I live!” cried Scrooge, patting it with his hand. “I scarcely ever looked at it before. What an honest expression it has in its face! It’s a wonderful knocker! – Here’s the Turkey! Hallo! Whoop! How are you! Merry Christmas!”

E esta es vera un pavo! Acel avia ia pote nunca sta sur sua gamas. Lo ta rompe los a pesos corta en un minuto, como bastos de sira de selo.

It was a Turkey! He never could have stood upon his legs, that bird. He would have snapped ‘em short off in a minute, like sticks of sealing-wax.

“Ma vera, on no pote porta acel a Camden Town.” – Scrooge dise – “Ta ce tu usa un caro.”

“Why, it’s impossible to carry that to Camden Town,” said Scrooge. “You must have a cab.”

La cacareta con cual el dise esta, e la cacareta con cual el paia per la pavo, e la cacareta con cual el paia per la caro, e la cacareta con cual el recompensa la xico es suprapasada sola par la cacareta con cual el senta se denova en sua seja, con manca de respira, e el cacareta asta cuando el larma.

The chuckle with which he said this, and the chuckle with which he paid for the Turkey, and the chuckle with which he paid for the cab, and the chuckle with which he recompensed the boy, were only to be exceeded by the chuckle with which he sat down breathless in his chair again, and chuckled till he cried.

Rasa se no es un taxe fasil, car sua mano continua secute vera multe; e per rasa se on nesesa atende, an si on no dansa cuando on fa la taxe. Ma si Scrooge ta talia la fini de sua nas a via, el ta pone un peso de bandeta medical sur lo, e ta es plen contente.

Shaving was not an easy task, for his hand continued to shake very much; and shaving requires attention, even when you don’t dance while you are at it. But if he had cut the end of his nose off, he would have put a piece of sticking-plaister over it, and been quite satisfied.

El vesti se “en tota sua modo la plu bon”, e final emerji a estra. A esta tempo, la persones es ja fluente tra la stradas, como el ia vide los con la Fantasma de Natal Presente; e, paseante con sua manos pos sua dorso, Scrooge regarda cadun con un surie deletada. En resoma, el aspeta tan nonresistable plasente ce tre o cuatro omes bonumorosa dise: “Bon matina, senior! Bon natal a tu!” E Scrooge dise a pos, a multe veses, ce de tota la sonas joiosa cual el ia oia ja, estas ia sona la plu joiosa en sua oreas.

He dressed himself “all in his best,” and at last got out into the streets. The people were by this time pouring forth, as he had seen them with the Ghost of Christmas Present; and walking with his hands behind him, Scrooge regarded every one with a delighted smile. He looked so irresistibly pleasant, in a word, that three or four good-humoured fellows said, “Good morning, sir! A merry Christmas to you!” And Scrooge said often afterwards, that of all the blithe sounds he had ever heard, those were the blithest in his ears.

El no vade longa ante cuando el vide la senior alga obesa prosimi a el – el ci ia entra en sua sala de contas a la dia presedente e ia dise – “La boteca de Scrooge e Marley, me crede?” Un dole pasa tra sua cor cuando el pensa como esta senior vea va regarda el cuando los encontra; ma el sabe cual curso estende direta ante el, e el segue lo.

He had not gone far, when coming on towards him he beheld the portly gentleman, who had walked into his counting-house the day before, and said, “Scrooge and Marley’s, I believe?” It sent a pang across his heart to think how this old gentleman would look upon him when they met; but he knew what path lay straight before him, and he took it.

“Mea senior cara.” – Scrooge dise, rapidinte sua pasos, e prendente la senior vea par ambos sua manos. – “Como vade? Me espera ce tu ia susede ier. Tu ia ata multe amable. Bon natal a tu, senior!”

“My dear sir,” said Scrooge, quickening his pace, and taking the old gentleman by both his hands. “How do you do? I hope you succeeded yesterday. It was very kind of you. A merry Christmas to you, sir!”

“Senior Scrooge?”

“Mr. Scrooge?”

“Si.” – Scrooge dise – “Acel es mea nom, e me teme ce cisa lo no plase tu. Permete ce me solisita tua pardona. E esce tu ta es tan jentil ce…” – asi, Scrooge xuxa en sua orea.

“Yes,” said Scrooge. “That is my name, and I fear it may not be pleasant to you. Allow me to ask your pardon. And will you have the goodness” – here Scrooge whispered in his ear.

“Ta ce Dio bondise me!” – la senior esclama, como si sua respira es saisida – “Mea senior Scrooge cara, tu es seria?”

“Lord bless me!” cried the gentleman, as if his breath were taken away. “My dear Mr. Scrooge, are you serious?”

“Per favore.” – Scrooge dise – “An no min par un sentim. Un cuantia grande de paias posponeda es incluida, me serti a tu. Tu va fa esta favore per me?”

“If you please,” said Scrooge. “Not a farthing less. A great many back-payments are included in it, I assure you. Will you do me that favour?”

“Mea senior cara.” – la otra dise, presante sua mano con el – “Me no sabe como responde a tal jener—”

“My dear sir,” said the other, shaking hands with him. “I don’t know what to say to such munifi–”

“No responde, per favore.” – Scrooge replica – “Veni per vide me. Tu va veni per vide me?”

“Don’t say anything, please,” retorted Scrooge. “Come and see me. Will you come and see me?”

“Serta!” – la senior vea esclama. E lo es clar ce el intende fa esta.

“I will!” cried the old gentleman. And it was clear he meant to do it.

“Grasias.” – Scrooge dise – “Me es multe obligada a tu. Me grasia tu a sincodes veses. Bondises!”

“Thank’ee,” said Scrooge. “I am much obliged to you. I thank you fifty times. Bless you!”

El vade a eglesa, e pasea tra la stradas, e oserva la persones ci freta de asi a ala, e toca la testas de enfantes, e conversa con mendicores, e regarda a su en la cosinas de casas, e a supra a la fenetras, e trova ce tota cosas pote furni plaser a el. El ia fantasia nunca ce cualce pasea – ce cualce cosa – pote dona tan multe felisia a el. En la posmedia, el verje sua pasos en dirije a la casa de sua sobrino.

He went to church, and walked about the streets, and watched the people hurrying to and fro, and patted children on the head, and questioned beggars, and looked down into the kitchens of houses, and up to the windows, and found that everything could yield him pleasure. He had never dreamed that any walk – that anything – could give him so much happiness. In the afternoon he turned his steps towards his nephew’s house.

El pasa la porte a un desduple de veses, ante trova la coraje per prosimi e bateta. Ma el ata subita e susede:

He passed the door a dozen times, before he had the courage to go up and knock. But he made a dash, and did it:

“Esce tua mestre es a casa, mea cara?” – Scrooge dise a la servor. Un bon xica! Vera.

“Is your master at home, my dear?” said Scrooge to the girl. Nice girl! Very.

“Si, senior.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do el es, mea dulse?” – Scrooge dise.

“Where is he, my love?” said Scrooge.

“El es en la sala de come, senior, con la mestresa. Me ta gida tu a supra, per favore.”

“He’s in the dining-room, sir, along with mistress. I’ll show you up-stairs, if you please.”

“Grasias. El conose me.” – Scrooge dise, con sua mano ja sur la securador de la sala de come. – “Me va entra asi, mea cara.”

“Thank’ee. He knows me,” said Scrooge, with his hand already on the dining-room lock. “I’ll go in here, my dear.”

El torse jentil la manico, e introdui sua fas, a lado de la porte. Los regarda la table (cual es decorada en un estende grande), car acel casores joven es sempre nervosa sur tal cosas, e los gusta vide ce tota es coreta posada.

He turned it gently, and sidled his face in, round the door. They were looking at the table (which was spread out in great array); for these young housekeepers are always nervous on such points, and like to see that everything is right.

“Fred!” – Scrooge dise.

“Fred!” said Scrooge.

Par mea cor e vive cara, sua sobrina par sposi salta tan! Scrooge ia oblida ja, a esta momento, ce la sobrina senta en la angulo con la reposapede, o el no ta esclama en acel modo, per cualce razona.

Dear heart alive, how his niece by marriage started! Scrooge had forgotten, for the moment, about her sitting in the corner with the footstool, or he wouldn’t have done it, on any account.

“Ta ce Dio bondise me!” – Fred cria – “ci es ala?”

“Why bless my soul!” cried Fred, “who’s that?”

“El es me. Tua tio Scrooge. Me ia veni per la come. Tu ta permete ce me entra, Fred?”

“It’s I. Your uncle Scrooge. I have come to dinner. Will you let me in, Fred?”

Permete ce el entra? Nos es fortunosa ce el no presa sua mano a via! Scrooge deveni ja comfortosa pos sinco minutos. No situa pote es plu zelosa. Sua sobrina ave esata la mesma aspeta. Ance Topper cuando el veni. Ance la sore ronda cuando el veni. Ance tota cuando los veni. Un selebra merveliosa, juas merveliosa, acorda merveliosa, felisia mer-vel-io-sa!

Let him in! It is a mercy he didn’t shake his arm off. He was at home in five minutes. Nothing could be heartier. His niece looked just the same. So did Topper when he came. So did the plump sister when she came. So did every one when they came. Wonderful party, wonderful games, wonderful unanimity, won-der-ful happiness!

Ma el ariva temprana a la ofisia a la matina seguente. O, el ariva temprana. Si sola el pote ariva prima, e trapi Bob Cratchit en sua ariva tarda! Esta es la cosa cual el anela aora.

But he was early at the office next morning. Oh, he was early there. If he could only be there first, and catch Bob Cratchit coming late! That was the thing he had set his heart upon.

E el susede; si, el susede! La orolojo sona la ora nove. Bob manca. Un cuatri. Bob manca. El es nonpuntual par no min ca des-oto minutos e un dui. Scrooge senta con sua porte plen abrida, afin el vide Bob entra a la tance.

And he did it; yes, he did! The clock struck nine. No Bob. A quarter past. No Bob. He was full eighteen minutes and a half behind his time. Scrooge sat with his door wide open, that he might see him come into the Tank.

Sua xapo es desponeda ante cuando el abri la porte; ance sua scarfa. El senta sur sua sejeta pos un momento, intensa laborante con sua pen, como si el atenta retrova la ora nove.

His hat was off, before he opened the door; his comforter too. He was on his stool in a jiffy; driving away with his pen, as if he were trying to overtake nine o’clock.

“Alo!” – Scrooge ronca, en sua vose abituada, tan prosima como el pote finje – “Perce tu veni asi a esta ora de la dia?”

“Hallo!” growled Scrooge, in his accustomed voice, as near as he could feign it. “What do you mean by coming here at this time of day?”

“Me regrete multe, senior.” – Bob dise – “Vera, me es tarda.”

“I am very sorry, sir,” said Bob. “I am behind my time.”

“Tu es?” – Scrooge repete – “Si. Me crede ce tu es. Veni asi, senior, per favore.”

“You are?” repeated Scrooge. “Yes. I think you are. Step this way, sir, if you please.”

“El aveni a sola un ves anial, senior.” – Bob prea, aparente de la tance – “Me no va repete. Me ia fa ier un selebra alga joiosa, senior.”

“It’s only once a year, sir,” pleaded Bob, appearing from the Tank. “It shall not be repeated. I was making rather merry yesterday, sir.”

“Ma ta ce me esplica a tu, mea ami,” – Scrooge dise – “me no va tolera plu esta spesie de condui. E donce” – el continua, saltante de sua sejeta, e donante a Bob un tal puia de codo a sua jaceta ce Bob bambola a retro en la tance denova – “e donce me es a punto de alti tua salario!”

“Now, I’ll tell you what, my friend,” said Scrooge, “I am not going to stand this sort of thing any longer. And therefore,” he continued, leaping from his stool, and giving Bob such a dig in the waistcoat that he staggered back into the Tank again; “and therefore I am about to raise your salary!”

Bob trema, e vade poca prosima a la regla. Tra un momento, el ave la idea ce el pote usa lo per colpa Scrooge de sur sua pedes, teni el, e clama a la persones en la stradeta per aida e un camison de restrinje.

Bob trembled, and got a little nearer to the ruler. He had a momentary idea of knocking Scrooge down with it, holding him, and calling to the people in the court for help and a strait-waistcoat.

“Bon natal, Bob!” – Scrooge dise, con un seria cual on no pote malcomprende, colpante el a la dorso en un modo zelosa – “Un natal plu bon, Bob, mea bonom, ca me ia furni a tu en multe anios! Me va alti tua salario, e atenta aida tua familia lutante, e nos va discute vosa relatas a esta posmedia mesma, supra un bol de ponxe calda de natal, Bob! Prepara la focos, e compra un caxa nova de carbones ante la puntua de un plu letera i, Bob Cratchit!”

“A merry Christmas, Bob!” said Scrooge, with an earnestness that could not be mistaken, as he clapped him on the back. “A merrier Christmas, Bob, my good fellow, than I have given you, for many a year! I’ll raise your salary, and endeavour to assist your struggling family, and we will discuss your affairs this very afternoon, over a Christmas bowl of smoking bishop, Bob! Make up the fires, and buy another coal-scuttle before you dot another i, Bob Cratchit!”


Scrooge ata plu bon ca el promete. El fa tota, e infinita plu; e a Pico Tim, ci no mori, el es un padre du. El deveni un ami tan bon, un mestre tan bon, e un om tan bon como on pote conose en la bon site vea, o en cualce otra bon site, vila o distrito vea en la bon mundo vea. Alga persones rie cuando los vide la cambia en el, ma el permete ce los rie, e atende poca los, car el es tan saja ce el sabe ce no cosa beneficante aveni sur esta globo ante cual alga persones no sasia se par ries a la comensa; e, sabente ce tal persones vole condui an tal en un modo sieca, el opina ce lo es plu bon si los ta plieta sua oios en suries larga, plu ca si los ta ave la maladia en formas min atraosa. Sua propre cor rie: e esta es vera sufisinte per el.

Scrooge was better than his word. He did it all, and infinitely more; and to Tiny Tim, who did not die, he was a second father. He became as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a man, as the good old city knew, or any other good old city, town, or borough, in the good old world. Some people laughed to see the alteration in him, but he let them laugh, and little heeded them; for he was wise enough to know that nothing ever happened on this globe, for good, at which some people did not have their fill of laughter in the outset; and knowing that such as these would be blind anyway, he thought it quite as well that they should wrinkle up their eyes in grins, as have the malady in less attractive forms. His own heart laughed: and that was quite enough for him.

El fa no plu encontras con spiritos, ma el segue la Prinsipe de Asteni Completa tra tota sua vive seguente; e on dise sempre sur el ce, si cualce person vivente conose la bon modo de onora la natal, Scrooge posese esta conose. Ta ce on pote dise vera la mesma sur nos, e sur tota de nos! E donce, como Pico Tim ia comenta – “Ta ce Dio bondise nos, an cadun!”

He had no further intercourse with Spirits, but lived upon the Total Abstinence Principle, ever afterwards; and it was always said of him, that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge. May that be truly said of us, and all of us! And so, as Tiny Tim observed, God bless Us, Every One!

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Lo ia es automatada jenerada de la paje corespondente en la Vici de Elefen a 30 junio 2024 (16:38 UTC).