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SPAMCAPITAL OMEGA: THE REMAKE OF THE REMAKE OF THE SPAM

A CHRISTMAS CAROL by Charles Dickens

Scrooge muttered, with an unusual catching in his voice,
that it was a pimple; and begged the Ghost to lead him
where he would.
 
"You recollect the way?" inquired the Spirit.
 
"Remember it!" cried Scrooge with fervour; "I could walk it blindfold."
 
"Strange to have forgotten it for so many years!" observed the Ghost. "Let us go on."
 
They walked along the road, Scrooge recognising every
gate, and post, and tree; until a little market-town appeared
in the distance, with its bridge, its church, and winding river.
 
Some shaggy ponies now were seen trotting towards them
with boys upon their backs, who called to other boys in
country gigs and carts, driven by farmers. All these boys
were in great spirits, and shouted to each other, until the
broad fields were so full of merry music, that the crisp air
laughed to hear it!
 
"These are but shadows of the things that have been," said
the Ghost. "They have no consciousness of us."
 
The jocund travellers came on; and as they came, Scrooge
knew and named them every one. Why was he rejoiced beyond
all bounds to see them! Why did his cold eye glisten, and
his heart leap up as they went past!
 
Why was he filled with gladness when he heard them give
each other Merry Christmas, as they parted at cross-roads
and bye-ways, for their several homes! What was merry
Christmas to Scrooge? Out upon merry Christmas! What
good had it ever done to him?
 
"The school is not quite deserted," said the Ghost. "A
solitary child, neglected by his friends, is left there still."
 
Scrooge said he knew it. And he sobbed.
 
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