A Christmas Carol

Ebenezer Scrooge is a mean old man with no place in his heart for others, not even his clerk's feeble son, Tiny Tim. One freezing cold Christmas Eve, Scrooge is visited by the ghost of an old associate, and they embark on an eerie nighttime journey. The Christmas spirits are here to show Scrooge the error of his nasty ways. By visiting his past, present, and future, will Scrooge learn to love Christmas and those around him?

Zusatztext "It has it all: a spooky ghost story! a heartwarming redemption and a great plot with a satisfyingly ending." The Times Informationen zum Autor Charles Dickens, illustrated by Mark Peppe Klappentext Ebenezer Scrooge is a mean old man with no friends or family to love him - he's just so miserable and bitter! One freezing cold Christmas Eve, Marley's Ghost pays Scrooge a visit and an eerie night-time journey begins. The Christmas spirits are here to show Scrooge the error if his nasty ways. By visiting his past, present and future, will Scrooge learn to love Christmas and the others around him? A new addition to the award-winning, enduring Puffin Classics line, Puffin Chalk is the next wave of classics in children's literature. With colorful chalk designs that echo the whimsy of childhood, these collectible editions add beauty to the bookshelves of children and classics lovers alike. ABOUT THE ILLUSTRATOR MARY KATE MCDEVITT is a letterer and illustrator living and working in Brooklyn, New York. She graduated from the Tyler School of Art with a degree in graphic design and illustration and has worked as a designer, freelance illustrator, and artist. Her work has been featured in Design*Sponge, Apartment Therapy, Etsy, and Bust magazine, among many others. Preface I have endeavoured in this Ghostly book, to raise the Ghost of an Idea, which shall not put my readers out of humour with themselves, with each other, with the season, or with me. May it haunt their house pleasantly, and no one wish to lay it. Their faithful Friend and Servant, C. D. December 1843 1 Marley's Ghost Marley was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it: and Scrooge's name was good upon 'Change, for anything he chose to put his hand to. Old Marley was as dead as a doornail. Mind! I don't mean to say that I know, of my own knowledge, what there is particularly dead about a doornail. I might have been inclined, myself, to regard a coffin-nail as the deadest piece of ironmongery in the trade. But the wisdom of our ancestors is in the simile; and my unhallowed hands shall not disturb it, or the Country's done for. You will therefore permit me to repeat, emphatically, that Marley was as dead as a doornail. Scrooge knew he was dead? Of course he did. How could it be otherwise? Scrooge and he were partners for I don't know how many years. Scrooge was his sole executor, his sole administrator, his sole assign, his sole residuary legatee, his sole friend and sole mourner. And even Scrooge was not so dreadfully cut up by the sad event, but that he was an excellent man of business on the very day of the funeral, and solemnized it with an undoubted bargain. The mention of Marley's funeral brings me back to the point I started from. There is no doubt that Marley was dead. This must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate. If we were not perfectly convinced that Hamlet's Father died before the play began, there would be nothing more remarkable in his taking a stroll at night, in an easterly wind, upon his own ramparts, than there would be in any other middle-aged gentleman rashly turning out after dark in a breezy spot say Saint Paul's Churchyard for instance literally to astonish his son's weak mind. Scrooge never painted out Old Marley's name. There it stood, years afterwards, above the warehouse door: Scrooge and Marley. The firm was known as Scrooge and Marley. Sometimes people new to the business called Scrooge Scrooge, and sometimes Marley, but he answered to both names: it was all the same to him. Oh! but he was a tight-fisted hand at the grindstone, Scrooge! a squeezing, wrenchin...

"It has it all: a spooky ghost story, a heartwarming redemption and a great plot with a satisfyingly ending."
— The Times

Auteur

Charles Dickens, illustrated by Mark Peppe

Texte du rabat

Ebenezer Scrooge is a mean old man with no friends or family to love him - he's just so miserable and bitter! One freezing cold Christmas Eve, Marley's Ghost pays Scrooge a visit and an eerie night-time journey begins. The Christmas spirits are here to show Scrooge the error if his nasty ways. By visiting his past, present and future, will Scrooge learn to love Christmas and the others around him?

Échantillon de lecture

A new addition to the award-winning, enduring Puffin Classics line, Puffin Chalk is the next wave of classics in children’s literature. With colorful chalk designs that echo the whimsy of childhood, these collectible editions add beauty to the bookshelves of children and classics lovers alike.

ABOUT THE ILLUSTRATOR

MARY KATE MCDEVITT is a letterer and illustrator living and working in Brooklyn, New York. She graduated from the Tyler School of Art with a degree in graphic design and illustration and has worked as a designer, freelance illustrator, and artist. Her work has been featured in DesignSponge, Apartment Therapy, Etsy, and *Bust magazine, among many others.

Preface

I have endeavoured in this Ghostly book, to raise the Ghost of an Idea, which shall not put my readers out of humour with themselves, with each other, with the season, or with me. May it haunt their house pleasantly, and no one wish to lay it.

Their faithful Friend and Servant,

C. D.

December 1843

1

Marley’s Ghost

Marley was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it: and Scrooge’s name was good upon ‘Change, for anything he chose to put his hand to. Old Marley was as dead as a doornail.

Mind! I don’t mean to say that I know, of my own knowledge, what there is particularly dead about a doornail. I might have been inclined, myself, to regard a coffin-nail as the deadest piece of ironmongery in the trade. But the wisdom of our ancestors is in the simile; and my unhallowed hands shall not disturb it, or the Country’s done for. You will therefore permit me to repeat, emphatically, that Marley was as dead as a doornail.

Scrooge knew he was dead? Of course he did. How could it be otherwise? Scrooge and he were partners for I don’t know how many years. Scrooge was his sole executor, his sole administrator, his sole assign, his sole residuary legatee, his sole friend and sole mourner. And even Scrooge was not so dreadfully cut up by the sad event, but that he was an excellent man of business on the very day of the funeral, and solemnized it with an undoubted bargain.

The mention of Marley’s funeral brings me back to the point I started from. There is no doubt that Marley was dead. This must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate. If we were not perfectly convinced that Hamlet’s Father died before the play began, there would be nothing more remarkable in his taking a stroll at night, in an easterly wind, upon his own ramparts, than there would be in any other middle-aged gentleman rashly turning out after dark in a breezy spot – say Saint Paul’s Churchyard for instance – literally to astonish his son’s weak mind.

Scrooge never painted out Old Marley’s name. There it stood, years afterwards, above the warehouse door: Scrooge and Marley. The firm…