What else can I be, when I live in such a world of fools as this? Merry Christmas! 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 dozen of months presented dead against you? If I could work my will, every idiot who goes about with “Merry Christmas” on his lips should be boiled in his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart. He should!