The script below is a play for voices adapted from the author's reading notes. It may be performed live or recorded as a radio play. You can hear the adaptor's podcast of the script here...
A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens Adapted from the author’s staged reading version by Dan LaRocque
The play has been conceived for ten voice actors with the following role assignments:
Actor 1: Scrooge Actor 2: Marley, Fezziwig, Belle’s Husband Actor 3: Ghost of Christmas Present, Solicitor 2, Joe Actor 4: Fred, Dick, Peter, Boy Actor 5: Undertaker’s Man, Solicitor 1, Topper Actor 6: Bob Cratchit, Young Scrooge Actress 1; Ghost of Christmas Past, Mrs. Cratchit Actress 2: Fan, Fred’s wife, Tiny Tim Actress 3: Belle, Martha Actress 4: Mrs. Fezziwig, Charwoman, Lace Tucker
A brief pause may be taken between each Stave, or each Stave might comprise a complete podcast to play in four consecutive episodes. Tim’s carols are performed a ‘Capella (in the performer’s most plaintive voice) and the ending carol is an instrumental in the public domain. While some flexibility is possible in how the speaking roles are assigned and doubled, my intent in this adaptation is to hear the narrative voice of Scrooge's reclamation as decidedly female. Stave I. Marley's Ghost
Tim (singing): God rest ye merry gentlemen Let nothing you dismay Remember Christ our Savior Was born on Christmas Day To save us all from Satan's pow'r When we were gone astray Oh tidings of comfort and joy Comfort and joy Oh tidings of comfort and joy
Belle: Marley was dead, to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. Fan: The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Belle: Scrooge signed it himself. And Scrooge's name was good on The Exchange for anything he chose to put his hand to. Bob: Old Marley was as dead as a door-nail. Mrs. C: This must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story we are going to relate. Fred: : Scrooge knew he was dead? Of course he did! Bob: Yet he never painted out old Marley's name. There it stood, years afterwards, above the warehouse door: Scrooge and Marley. Solicitor 1: 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. Mrs. C: Oh! But he was a tight-fisted hand at the grindstone, Scrooge! a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, covetous old sinner! Hard and sharp as flint; secret, and self-contained, and solitary as an oyster. Fred: Once upon a time of all the good days in the year, upon a Christmas eve, old Scrooge sat busy in his counting-house. It was cold, bleak biting, foggy weather; and the city clocks had only just gone three, but it was quite dark already. Bob: The door of Scrooge's counting-house was open, so that he might keep his eye upon his clerk, who, in a dismal little cell beyond, a sort of tank, was copying letters. Scrooge had a very small fire, but the clerk's fire was so very much smaller that he was compelled to try to warm himself at the candle. Fred: "A merry Christmas, uncle! God save you!" Fan: It was the voice of Scrooge's nephew, who came upon him so quickly that this was the first intimation Scrooge had of his approach. Scrooge: "Bah! Humbug!” Fred: "Christmas a humbug, uncle! You don't mean that, I am sure?" Scrooge: "I do. 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? If I could work my will, every idiot who goes about with 'Merry Christmas' on his lips should be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart.” Fred: "Uncle!" Scrooge: "Nephew, keep Christmas in your own way, and let me keep it in mine." Fred: "Keep it! But you don't keep it." Scrooge: "Let me leave it alone, then. Much good may it do you! Much good it has ever done you!" Fred: "There are many things from which I might have derived good, by which I have not profited, I dare say, Christmas among the rest. But I am sure I have always thought of Christmas time as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of other people as if they really were fellow-travelers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. And therefore, uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, God bless it!" Bob: The clerk in the tank spontaneously applauded: and becoming immediately sensible of the impropriety, he poked the fire, extinguishing its last frail spark forever. Scrooge: "Let me hear another sound from you Bob Cratchit, and you'll keep your Christmas by losing your situation! You're quite a powerful speaker, nephew. I wonder you don't go into Parliament." Fred: "Don't be angry, uncle. Come! Dine with us to-morrow." Bob: Scrooge said that he would see him in -- yes, indeed he did. He went the whole length of the expression, and said that he would see him in that extremity first. Fred: "But why?" Scrooge: "Why did you get married?" Fred: "Because I fell in love." Scrooge: "Because you fell in love!" Belle: Scrooge spoke as if that were the only thing in the world more ridiculous than a merry Christmas. Scrooge: "Good afternoon!" Fred: "Nay, uncle, but you never came to see me before I was married. Why give it as a reason for not coming now?" Scrooge: "Good afternoon." Fred: "I want nothing from you; I ask nothing of you; why cannot we be friends?" Scrooge: "Good afternoon." Fred: "I am sorry, with all my heart, to find you so resolute. We have never had any quarrel, to which I have been a party. But I have made the trial in homage to Christmas, and I'll keep my Christmas humor to the last. So A Merry Christmas, uncle!" Scrooge: "Good afternoon!" Fred: "And A Happy New-Year!" Scrooge: "Humbug!" Bob: His nephew left the room without an angry word, and stopped at the outer door to bestow the greetings of the season on Bob Cratchit, who, cold as he was, was warmer than Scrooge; for he returned them cordially. Solicitor 1: In letting Scrooge's nephew out, Mr. Cratchit had let two other people in. They were portly gentlemen, pleasant to behold, and now stood, with their hats off, in Scrooge's office. Solicitor 2: They had books and papers in their hands, and bowed to him. Solicitor 1: "Scrooge and Marley's, I believe. Have I the pleasure of addressing Mr Scrooge, or Mr Marley?" Scrooge: "Mr Marley has been dead these seven years. He died seven years ago, this very night." Solicitor 2: "We have no doubt his generosity is well represented by his surviving partner.” Mrs. C: At the ominous word "generosity," Scrooge frowned and shook his head. Solicitor 1: "At this festive season of the year, Mr Scrooge, it is more than usually desirable that we should make some slight provision for the poor and destitute, who suffer greatly at the present time. Solicitor 2: Many thousands are in want of common necessaries; hundreds of thousands are in want of common comforts, sir." Scrooge: "Are there no prisons?" Solicitor 2: "Plenty of prisons.” Scrooge: "And the Union workhouses? Are they still in operation?" Solicitor 1: "They are. I wish I could say they were not." Scrooge: "The Treadmill and the Poor Law are in full vigor, then?" Solicitor 2: "Both very busy, sir. And precisely the reason that a few of us are endeavoring to raise a fund to buy the poor some meat and drink, and means of warmth. Solicitor 1: We choose this time, because it is a time, of all others, when Want is keenly felt, and Abundance rejoices. What shall I put you down for?" Scrooge: "Nothing!" Solicitor 1: "You wish to be anonymous?" Scrooge: "I wish to be left alone. Since you ask me what I wish, gentlemen, that is my answer. I don't make merry myself at Christmas, and I can't afford to make idle people merry. I help to support the establishments I have mentioned, -- they cost enough, -- and those who are badly off must go there." Solicitor 2: "Many can't go there; and some would rather die." Scrooge: "If they would rather die, they had better do it, and decrease the surplus population. It's enough for a man to understand his own business, and not to interfere with other people's. Mine occupies me constantly. Good afternoon, gentlemen!" Belle: Seeing clearly that it would be useless to pursue their point, the gentlemen withdrew. Mrs. C: Scrooge resumed his labors with an improved opinion of himself until at length the hour of shutting up the counting-house arrived. Bob Cratchit was waiting expectantly at the door. Scrooge: "You'll want all day to-morrow, I suppose?" Bob: "If quite convenient, sir." Scrooge: "It is not convenient, and it's not fair. If I was to stop half a crown for it, you'd think yourself ill-used, I'll be bound? And yet you don't think me ill-used, when I pay a day's wages for no work." Bob: "It's only once a year, sir." Scrooge: "A poor excuse for picking a man's pocket every twenty-fifth of December! But I suppose you must have the whole day. Be here all the earlier next morning.” Mrs. C: Bob Cratchit promised that he would; and Scrooge walked out with a growl. Bob: The office was closed in a twinkling, and Bob ran home to Camden Town as hard as he could pelt, to play at blindman’s-bluff in honor of its being Christmas Eve. Belle: Scrooge took his melancholy dinner in his usual melancholy tavern; and then went home to bed. He lived in chambers which had once belonged to his deceased partner. They were a gloomy suite of rooms, in an old and dreary building in which nobody lived but Scrooge. Past: Now it is a fact, that there was nothing at all particular about the knocker on the door of this house, except that it was very large; and that Scrooge had seen it, night and morning, for as long as he had lived there. It is also a fact that Scrooge had never been given to flights of fancy of any kind. And yet, having his key in the lock of the door, Scrooge saw in the knocker, without its undergoing any intermediate process of change, not a knocker, but-- Marley: Marley's face. Scrooge: Marley's face, with a dismal light about it; not angry or ferocious, but looking at Scrooge as Marley used to look, -- with ghostly spectacles turned up upon its ghostly forehead. Past: As Scrooge looked fixedly at this phenomenon, it was a knocker again. To say that he was not startled, or somewhat unsettled would be untrue. But he put his hand upon the key, turned it, and resolutely walked in. Belle: He did pause, before he shut the door; and he did look cautiously behind it, as if he half-expected to be terrified with the sight of Marley's pigtail sticking out into the hall. But there was nothing on the back of the door, so he closed it with a bang. Undertaker’s Man: The sound echoed through the house like thunder. Scrooge was not a man to be frightened by echoes, but before he shut the door to his rooms, he walked about them to see that all was right. He had enough recollection of the face he’d just encountered to desire to do that. Scrooge: Sitting-room, bedroom, both as they should be. A small fire in the grate; spoon and basin ready; and the little saucepan of gruel upon the hob. Nobody under the bed; nobody in the closet. Past: Quite satisfied, he closed his door, and locked himself in; double-locked himself in, which was not his custom. Thus secured against surprise, he put on his dressing-gown and slippers and his nightcap, and sat down before the very low fire to take his gruel. Belle: As he threw his head back in the chair, his glance happened to rest upon a bell, a disused bell, that hung in the room, and communicated, for some purpose now forgotten, with a chamber in the highest story of the building. It was with great astonishment, and with a strange, inexplicable dread, that, as he looked, he saw this bell begin to swing. Soon it rang out loudly, and so did every bell in the house. Undertaker’s Man: This was succeeded by a clanking noise, deep down below, as if some person were dragging a heavy chain up the stairs. Past: Then he heard the noise much louder, coming straight towards his door. Undertaker’s Man: The door flew suddenly open, and a spectre passed into the room before his eyes. Scrooge: Marley’s ghost! The same face: the very same. Marley in his pig-tail, usual waistcoat, tights, and boots. The chain he drew was clasped about his middle. It was long, and wound about him like a tail; and it was made of cash-boxes, keys, padlocks, ledgers, and heavy purses wrought in steel. Undertaker’s Man: Scrooge was incredulous, and fought against his senses. Scrooge: "How now! What do you want with me?" Marley: "Much!" Undertaker’s Man: Marley's voice, no doubt about it. Scrooge: "Who are you?" Marley: "Ask me who I was." Scrooge: "Who were you then?" Marley: "In life I was your partner, Jacob Marley." Scrooge: "Can you -- can you sit down?" Marley: "I can." Scrooge: "Do it, then." Marley: "You don't believe in me." Scrooge: "I don't." Marley: "Why do you doubt your senses?" Scrooge: "Because a little thing affects them. A slight disorder of the stomach makes them cheats. You may be an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of an underdone potato. There's more of gravy than of grave about you, whatever you are! You see this toothpick?" Marley: "I do." Scrooge: "You are not looking at it." Marley: "But I see it, notwithstanding." Scrooge: "Well! I have but to swallow this, and be for the rest of my days persecuted by a legion of hobgoblins, all of my own creation. Humbug, I tell you—humbug!" Undertaker’s Man: At this, the spirit raised such a frightful cry, and shook its chain with such an appalling noise, that Scrooge was driven in fear to the floor behind his own chair for protection. Marley: "Man of the worldly mind! Do you believe in me or not?" Scrooge: "I do. I must. But why do spirits walk the earth, and why do they come to me?" Marley: "It is required of every man that the spirit within him should walk abroad among his fellow-men; and if that spirit goes not forth in life, it is condemned to do so after death. It is doomed to wander through the world and witness what it cannot share, but might have shared on earth, and turned to happiness!" Scrooge: "You are fettered. Tell me why?" Marley: "I wear the chain I forged in life. I made it link by link, and yard by yard; I girded it on of my own free will, and of my own free will I wore it. Is its pattern strange to you? Or would you know, the weight and length of the strong coil you bear yourself? It was full as heavy and as long as this, seven Christmas Eves ago. You have labored on it, since. It is a ponderous chain!" Scrooge: "Jacob, old friend, pity me. Speak comfort to me, Jacob." Marley: "I have none to give, it comes from other regions, Ebenezer Scrooge, and is conveyed by other ministers. Mark me! -- in life my spirit never moved beyond the narrow limits of our money-changing hole; willfully blind to the sufferings of my fellow beings!” Scrooge: "But you were always a good man of business, Jacob." Marley: "Business! Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, benevolence, were all my business. The dealings of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business! Hear me! My time is nearly gone. I am here to-night to warn you that you have yet a chance and hope of escaping my fate. A chance and hope of my procuring, Ebenezer." Scrooge: "You were always a good friend to me, Jacob!" Marley: "You will be haunted by Three Spirits." Scrooge: "Is that the chance and hope you mentioned, Jacob? I -- I think I'd rather not." Marley: "Without their visits, you cannot hope to shun the path I tread. Expect the first to-morrow night, when the bell tolls One. Expect the second on the next night at the same hour. The third, upon the next night at the last stroke of twelve. Look to see me no more; and look that, for your own sake, you remember what has passed between us!" Past: Marley’s ghost walked backward from him; and at every step it took, the window raised itself a little, so that, when the apparition reached it, it was wide open. The ghost beckoned Scrooge to approach, which he did. Undertaker’s Man: When they were within two paces of each other, Marley's ghost held up its hand and pointed to the street below. Past: The air was filled with phantoms, wailing in inexpressible sorrow. Every one of them wore chains like Marley's ghost; and cried piteously at being unable to assist a wretched woman with an infant, on a nearby door-step. Scrooge: “Why do they lament?” Marley: “They seek to interfere for good in human matters, and have lost the power forever.” Past: At this, the spectre joined in the mournful dirge; and floated out in misery upon the bleak, dark night. Undertaker’s Man: Scrooge closed the window in fearful haste, and examined the door by which the Ghost had entered. It was double-locked, as he had locked it with his own hands, and the bolts were undisturbed. Scrooge: Scrooge tried to speak his disbelief but his voice faltered at the first syllable. And from the emotion he had undergone, or the harsh conversation with the Ghost, or the lateness of the hour, being much in need of repose, he went straight to bed, and fell asleep upon the instant. Stave Two. The First of the Three Spirits Tim (singing): It came upon the midnight clear That glorious song of old From angels bending near the earth To touch their harps of gold "Peace on the earth, goodwill to men From Heaven's all gracious King!" The world in solemn stillness lay To hear the angels sing Belle: When Scrooge awoke, it was so dark that he could scarcely see, until suddenly the church clock tolled a deep, dull, hollow, melancholy ONE. Past: Light flashed up in the room upon the instant, and the curtains of his bed were drawn aside by a strange figure, -- like a child: yet not so like a child as like an adult who showed no signs of age. Its hair was white, and yet the face had not a wrinkle in it, and the tenderest bloom was on the skin. But the strangest thing about it was, that from the crown of its head there sprung a bright clear jet of light, and which was doubtless the occasion of its using, in its less auspicious moments, a great extinguisher for a cap, which it now held under its arm. Scrooge: "Are you the Spirit whose coming was foretold to me?" Past: "I am!" Scrooge: "Who and what are you?" Past: "I am the Ghost of Christmas Past." Scrooge: "Long past?" Past: "No. Your past. I come for your welfare Ebenezer. Rise, and walk with me!" Belle: It would have been in vain for Scrooge to protest. The spirit’s grasp, though gentle as a woman's hand, was not to be resisted. He rose; but finding that the Spirit made towards the window, clasped its robe in supplication. Scrooge: "I am a mortal, and liable to fall." Past: "Bear but a touch of my hand upon your heart, and you shall be upheld in more than this!" Fan: As the words were spoken, they passed through the wall, and stood upon an open country road, with fields on either hand. The city had entirely vanished. Not a vestige of it was to be seen. The darkness and the mist had vanished with it, for it was a clear, cold, winter day, with snow upon the ground. Scrooge: "Good Heavens! I was bred in this place. I was a boy here!" Past: "You recollect the way?" Scrooge: "Remember it! I could walk it blindfold." Past: "Strange to have forgotten it for so many years!” Scrooge: Some shaggy ponies now were seen trotting towards them with boys upon their backs. Scrooge knew them all by name and shouted out to them. Past: "These are but shadows of the things that have been, they have no consciousness of us. Come, let us see another Christmas!" Scrooge: Scrooge now found his younger self pacing anxiously in a long, bare, melancholy school room, made barer still by lines of empty desks. Past: "The school is all but deserted, yet a solitary youth, neglected by his friends, is left there still." Scrooge: “His father holds him a grudge. The boy can manage on his own.” Past: “And yet your sister would not have it so. Look where she comes.” Young Scrooge: “Fan! My dear little Fan!” Fan: "Dear, dear brother. I have come to bring you home, dear brother! To bring you home, home, home!" Young Scrooge: "Home, little Fan?" Fan: "Yes! Home, for good and all. Home, for ever and ever. Father is so much kinder than he used to be, and he spoke so gently to me one night when I was going to bed, that I was not afraid to ask him once more if you might come home; and he said Yes, you should; and sent me in a coach to bring you. And are never to come back here; and we're to be together all the Christmas long." Young Scrooge: "You’ve become quite a woman, Fan!" Fan: She clapped her hands and laughed, and stood on tiptoe to embrace him. Then she began to drag him, in her eagerness, towards the door. Young Scrooge: And young Ebenezer, nothing loth to go, joyfully accompanied her. Past: "Always a delicate creature, whom a breath might have withered. But she had a large heart!" Scrooge: "So she had, Spirit, so she had. She was my strength, my comfort, my home.” Past: "She died a woman, and had, as I think, children." Scrooge: "One child." Past: "True. Your nephew, Fred! He rather favors her does he not? Scrooge: “Yes. She…she died, giving him life.” Past: “And yet she lives—in his own kind and generous heart. Turn and see another Christmas, Ebenezer Scrooge.” Fezziwig: They were now in the busy thoroughfares of a city, and it was plain enough by the dressing of the shops that here too it was Christmas time. They stopped at a certain warehouse door. Past: “Do you know this place?” Scrooge: "Know it! I was apprenticed here! Why, it's old Fezziwig! Bless his heart, it's Fezziwig, alive again!" Fezziwig: "Yo ho, there! Ebenezer! Dick!" Dick: “Yes Mr. Fezziwig?” Scrooge: "Dick Wilkins, to be sure! My old fellow-prentice, bless me, yes. There he is.” Fezziwig: "Yo ho, my boys! No more work to-night. Christmas eve, Dick. Christmas, Ebenezer! Let's have the shutters up, before a man can say Jack Robinson! Clear away, my lads!" Young Scrooge: Clear away! There was nothing they wouldn't have cleared away, or couldn't have cleared away, with old Fezziwig looking on. It was done in a minute. Dick: Every movable was packed off; the floor was swept and watered, fuel was heaped upon the fire; and the warehouse was as snug and warm and bright a ball-room as you would desire to see upon a winter's night. Young Scrooge: In came a fiddler with a music-book, and went up to the lofty desk, and made an orchestra of it, and tuned like fifty stomach-aches. Dick: In came Mrs Fezziwig, one vast substantial smile. In came the three Miss Fezziwigs, beaming and lovable. In came the six young followers whose hearts they broke. Young Scrooge: In came all the young men and women employed in the business. In they all came anyhow and everyhow. Dick: There were dances, and there were forfeits, and more dances, and there was cake, and mulled wine, and a great piece of Cold Roast, and there were mince-pies, and plenty of beer. Young Scrooge: But the great effect of the evening came after the Roast and pies, when the fiddler struck up Sir Roger de Coverley. Fezziwig: Then old Fezziwig stood out to dance with… Mrs. Fezziwig: Mrs Fezziwig! Mr. Fezziwig: Top couple, too! Mrs. Fezziwig: And she was worthy to be his partner in every sense of the term. Young Scrooge: A positive light appeared to issue from Fezziwig's calves. They shone in every part of the dance. Fezziwig: And at length when old Fezziwig… Mrs. Fezziwig: And Mrs Fezziwig… Fezziwig: And of course Mrs. Fezziwig, had gone through every move, -- advance and retire, turn your partner, bow and courtesy, thread the needle, and back to your place again, -- Fezziwig, old and portly as he was, “cut” -- cut so deftly, that he appeared to honestly wink with his legs. Young Scrooge: When the clock struck eleven this domestic ball broke up. Mrs. Fezziwig: Mr and Mrs Fezziwig took their stations, one on either side of the door, and, shaking hands with every person individually as he or she went out, wished him or her a Merry Christmas. Fezziwig: When everybody had retired but the two 'prentices, they did the same to Dick and Ebenezer; and thus the cheerful voices died away, and the lads were left to their beds pouring out their hearts in praise of Fezziwig. Past: "A small matter, to make these young lads so full of gratitude. He has spent but a few pounds of your mortal money, -- three or four perhaps. Is that so much that he deserves this praise?" Scrooge: "It isn't that, Spirit. He has the power to render us happy or unhappy; to make our service light or burdensome; a pleasure or a toil. Say that his power lies in words and looks. The happiness he gives is quite as great as if… as if it cost a fortune." Past: "What is the matter?" Scrooge: "Nothing particular." Past: "Something, I think?" Scrooge: "No, no. I should like to be able to say a word or two to my own clerk just now. That's all." Past: "My time grows short. Quick!” Young Scrooge: This was not addressed to Scrooge, or to any one whom he could see, but it produced an immediate effect. For again he saw his former self now in the prime of life. Fan: He was not alone, but sat by the side of a fair young girl in a black dress, in whose eyes there were tears. Belle: "It matters little to you, very little. Another idol has displaced me; and if it can comfort you in times to come, as I would have tried to do, I have no just cause to grieve." Young Scrooge: "What Idol has displaced you Belle?" Belle: "A golden one. You fear the world too much. I have seen your nobler aspirations fall off one by one, until the master-passion, Gain, engrosses you. Have I not?" Young Scrooge: "What then? Even if I have grown so much wiser, what then? I am not changed towards you. Have I ever sought release from our engagement?" Belle: "In words, no. Never." Young Scrooge: "In what, then?" Belle: In a changed nature; in an altered spirit. If you were free to-day, to-morrow, yesterday, can even I believe that you would choose a dowerless girl; or, choosing her, do I not know that your regret would surely follow? I release you Ebenezer. With a full heart, for the love of him you once were. May you be happy in the life you have chosen." Scrooge: "Spirit! Show me no more! Conduct me home. Why do you delight to torture me?" Past: "One shadow more!" Belle: And at once they were in another scene and place: a room, not very large or handsome, but full of comfort. Near to the winter fire sat a beautiful young girl, so like the last that Scrooge believed it was the same, until he saw Belle, now a comely matron, sitting opposite her daughter. The noise in this room was perfectly tumultuous, for there were more children there than Scrooge in his agitated state of mind could count. Belle’s Husband: But now a knocking at the door was heard and in came the father attended by a man laden with Christmas toys and presents. Then came the shouting and the irrepressible affection, the joy, and gratitude, and ecstasy! They are all indescribable alike. It is enough that by degrees the children and their emotions got out of the parlor and up to the top of the house; where they went to bed, and so subsided. Belle: And now Scrooge looked on more attentively than ever, when the master of the house, having his daughter leaning fondly on him, sat down with her and her mother at his own fireside; and when he thought that such another creature, quite as graceful and as full of promise, might have called him father, and been a spring-time in the haggard winter of his life, his sight grew very dim indeed. Belle’s Husband: "Belle, I saw an old friend of yours this afternoon." Belle: "Who was it?" Belle’s Husband: "Guess!" Belle: "How can I? Tut, don't I know. Mr. Scrooge." Belle’s Husband: "Ebenezer Scrooge it was. I passed his office window; and I could scarcely help seeing him. His partner lies upon the point of death, I hear; and there he sat alone. Quite alone in the world, I do believe." Scrooge: "Spirit! remove me from this place. Haunt me no longer!" Past: "I told you these were shadows of the things that have been. That they are what they are, do not blame me!" Scrooge: Scrooge turned upon the Ghost, and began to wrestle with it. In the struggle, he observed that its light was burning high and bright; and he seized the extinguisher-cap, and by a sudden action pressed it down upon its head. Past: The Spirit dropped beneath it, so that the extinguisher covered its whole form; but though Scrooge pressed it down with all his force, he could not hide the light: which streamed from under it, in an unbroken flood upon the ground. Scrooge: He was conscious of being exhausted; and, further, of being in his own room. He had barely time to reel to bed before he sank into a heavy sleep. Stave Three. The Second of the Three Spirits
Tim (singing): Deck the halls with boughs of holly Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la 'Tis the season to be jolly Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la Don we now our gay apparel Fa-la-la, la-la-la, la-la-la Troll the ancient Yule-tide carol Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la Belle: Scrooge awoke in his bedroom when the bell again was on the stroke of one. There was no doubt about that. But his adjoining sitting-room, into which he approached warily in his slippers, attracted by a great light there, had undergone a surprising transformation. Fan: The walls and ceiling were so hung with living green, that it looked a perfect grove. And such a mighty blaze went roaring up the chimney, as that neglected hearth had never known. Peter: Heaped upon the floor, to form a kind of throne, were turkeys, geese, game, great joints of meat, long wreaths of sausages, mince-pies, plum-puddings, barrels of oysters, red-hot chestnuts, cherry-cheeked apples, juicy oranges, luscious pears, and great bowls of punch. Martha: In easy state upon this perch there sat a Giant glorious to see; who bore a glowing torch, in shape not unlike Plenty's horn, and who raised it high to shed its light on Scrooge, as he came peeping round the door. Present: "Come in, -- come in! and know me better, man! I am the Ghost of Christmas Present. Look upon me! You have never seen the like of me before!" Scrooge: "Never." Present: "Have you never walked forth with the other members of my family; my elder brothers born in these late years?" Scrooge: "I am afraid I have not. Have you many brothers, Spirit?" Present: "More than eighteen hundred." Scrooge: "Spirit, conduct me where you will. I went forth last night on compulsion, and I learnt a lesson which is working now. To-night, if you have aught to teach me, let me profit by it." Present: "Touch my robe!" Scrooge: Scrooge did as he was told, and held it fast. Present: The room and its contents all vanished instantly, and they were now moving through the city streets upon a snowy Christmas morning. The sky was gloomy and grey, but there was an air of cheerfulness abroad that the brightest summer sun would have failed to diffuse. Belle: It was a remarkable quality of the Ghost that he brought joy wherever he ventured, and notwithstanding his gigantic size, he could accommodate himself to any place with ease; so that he stood beneath a low roof quite as gracefully as he could have done in any lofty hall. Fan: Perhaps it was the pleasure the good Spirit had in showing off this power of his, or else it was his sympathy with all poor men, that led him to conduct Scrooge straight to the home of Bob Cratchit. And on the threshold the Spirit smiled, and stopped to bless the dwelling with the sprinklings of his unusual torch. Scrooge: "Is there a peculiar power in what you sprinkle from your torch?" Present: "There is. My own." Scrooge: "Would it apply to any household on this day?" Present: "To any family given to kindness. To a poor one most." Scrooge: "Why to a poor one most?" Present: "Because it needs it most." Mrs. C: In they went and up rose Mrs Cratchit, Cratchit's wife, dressed out but poorly yet brave in ribbons; and she laid the cloth, assisted by Belinda Cratchit, second of her daughters, Peter: While Master Peter Cratchit plunged a fork into the saucepan of potatoes, gallantly attired in one of his father’s own collars conferred upon him by the elder Cratchit in honor of the day. Fan: And now two smaller Cratchits, boy and girl came tearing in, screaming that outside the baker's they had smelt the goose, and known it for their own. Mrs. C: "What has ever got your precious father then? And your brother Tiny Tim! And Martha warn't as late last Christmas day by half an hour!" Martha: "Here's Martha, mother!" Peter: "Here's Martha, mother! There's such a goose, Martha!" Mrs. C: "Why, bless your heart alive, my dear, how late you are! Sit ye down before the fire, my dear, and have a warm, Lord bless ye!" Peter: "No, no! There's father coming. Hide, Martha, hide!" Martha: So Martha hid herself, and in came Bob Cratchit with Tiny Tim upon his shoulder, bearing his little crutch beneath his arm. Bob: "Why, where's our Martha?" Mrs. C: "Not coming," Bob: "Not coming!" Not coming upon Christmas day!" Martha: Martha didn't like to see him disappointed, even if it were only in jest; so she rushed out prematurely from behind the closet door, and ran into his arms, while the two young Cratchits ran to Tiny Tim, and bore him off to the wash-house that he might hear the pudding singing in the copper. Mrs. C: "And how did little Tim behave in church?" Bob: "As good as gold, my dear, and better. Somehow he gets thoughtful, sitting by himself so much, and thinks the strangest things you ever heard. He told me, coming home, that he hoped the people saw him in the church, because he was a cripple, and it might be pleasant to them to remember, upon Christmas day, who made lame beggars walk and blind men see." Martha: His active little crutch was heard upon the floor, and back came Tiny Tim before another word was spoken, escorted by his brother and sister to his stool beside the fire. Bob: And while Bob compounded some hot mixture in a jug with gin and lemons, and stirred it round and round and put it on the hob to simmer, Peter: Master Peter and the two younger Cratchits went to fetch the goose, with which they soon returned in high procession. Mrs. C: Mrs Cratchit made the gravy hissing hot; Peter: Master Peter mashed the potatoes with incredible vigor; Martha: Martha dusted the hot plates; Bob: Bob took Tiny Tim beside him in a tiny corner at the table; and at last the dishes were set on, and grace was said. Peter: Oh but there never was such a goose! Its tenderness and flavor, size and cheapness, were the themes of universal admiration. Mrs. C: Eked out by apple-sauce and mashed potatoes, it was a sufficient dinner for the whole family; indeed, as Mrs Cratchit said with great delight (surveying one small atom of a bone upon the dish), they hadn't ate it all at last! Martha: Yet everyone had had enough, and the youngest Cratchits in particular were steeped in sage and onion to the eyebrows! Mrs. C: But now, Mrs Cratchit left the room alone, -- too nervous to bear witnesses, -- to take the pudding up, and bring it in. Bob: Meanwhile, all sorts of horrors were imagined. Martha: “Suppose it should not be done enough!” Tim: “Suppose it should break in turning out!” Peter: “Suppose somebody should have got over the wall of the back yard, and stolen it, while we were merry with the goose!” Mrs. C: But at last Mrs Cratchit entered, -- flushed but smiling proudly, -- with the pudding, like a speckled cannon-ball, blazing in ignited brandy, and crowned with Christmas holly stuck into the top. Bob: Oh, a wonderful pudding! Bob Cratchit said, and calmly too, that he regarded it as the greatest success achieved by Mrs Cratchit since their marriage. Mrs. C: Mrs Cratchit said that now the weight was off her mind, she would confess she’d had her doubts about the quantity of flour. Peter: Everybody had something to say about it, Martha: But nobody said or thought it was at all a small pudding for a large family. Tim: Any Cratchit would have blushed to hint at such a thing. Bob: At last the dinner was all done, the cloth was cleared, the hearth swept, and the fire made up. The compound in the jug being tasted, and considered perfect, apples and oranges were put upon the table, and a shovelful of chestnuts on the fire. Mrs. C: Then all the Cratchit family drew round the hearth and Bob proposed a toast: Bob: "A Merry Christmas to us all, my dears. God bless us!" Mrs. C: Which all the family re-echoed. Tim: "God bless us every one!" Scrooge: "Spirit, tell me if Tiny Tim will live." Present: "I see a vacant seat in the corner, and a crutch without an owner, carefully preserved. If these shadows remain unaltered by the Future, the child will die." Scrooge: "Oh no, kind Spirit! say he will be spared." Present: "If these shadows remain unaltered by the Future, none other of my race will find him here. But what then? If he be like to die, he had better do it, and decrease the surplus population." Scrooge: Scrooge hung his head to hear his own words quoted by the Spirit. Present: "Man—if man you be in heart, renounce that wicked thought until you have discovered what the surplus is, and where it is. Will you decide what men shall live; what men shall die? It may be, that in the sight of Heaven, you are more worthless and less fit to live than millions like this poor man's child. Bob: "Mr Scrooge, I give you Mr Scrooge, the Founder of the Feast!" Mrs.: "The Founder of the Feast indeed! I wish I had him here I'd give him a piece of my mind to feast upon and I hope he'd have a good appetite for it." Bob: "My dear, the children! Christmas day." Mrs. C: "It should be Christmas day, I am sure, on which one drinks the health of such an odious, stingy, hard, unfeeling man as Mr Scrooge. You know he is, Robert! Nobody knows it better than you do, poor fellow!" Bob: "My dear, Christmas day." Mrs. C: "I'll drink his health for your sake and the day's, not for his. Long life to him! A merry Christmas and a happy New Year! He'll be very merry and very happy; I have no doubt!" Martha: The children drank the toast after her. It was the first of their proceedings which had no heartiness in it. Peter: But soon, they were ten times merrier than before, from the mere relief of Scrooge the Baleful being done with. Bob: Bob Cratchit told them how he had his eye on a situation for Master Peter, which would bring in, if obtained, full five and sixpence weekly. Martha: The two young Cratchits laughed tremendously at the idea of Peter's being a man of business; Peter: And Peter himself looked thoughtfully at the fire from between his collars, as if he were deliberating what particular investments he should favor when he came into the receipt of that bewildering income. Bob: All this time the chestnuts and the jug went round; and by and by they had a song from Tiny Tim, who sang it very well indeed. Present: There was nothing of high mark in this. They were not a handsome family; they were not well dressed; their shoes were far from being water proof; their clothes were scanty; and Peter had very likely known the inside of a pawnbroker's. But they were happy, grateful, pleased with one another, and contented with the time; and when they faded, and looked happier yet in the bright sprinklings of the Spirit's torch at parting, Scrooge had his eye upon them, and especially on Tiny Tim, until the last. Scrooge: It was a great surprise to Scrooge, as this scene vanished, to hear a hearty laugh. It was a much greater surprise to Scrooge to recognize it as his own nephew's, and to find himself in a bright, dry, gleaming room, with the Spirit standing smiling by his side, and looking at that same nephew. Fred: "He said that Christmas was a humbug, as I live! He believed it too!" Fred’s Wife: "More shame for him, Fred!" Present: She was very pretty; exceedingly pretty. With a dimpled, surprised-looking, capital face; a ripe little mouth that seemed made to be kissed, -- as no doubt it was; and the sunniest pair of eyes you ever saw in any little creature's head. Fred: "He's a comical old fellow; and not so pleasant as he might be. However, his offences carry their own punishment, and I have nothing to say against him. Who suffers by his ill whims? Himself, always. Here he takes it into his head to dislike us, and he won't come and dine with us. What's the consequence? He don't lose much of a dinner." Fred’s Wife: "Indeed, I think he loses a very good dinner!" Fred: "Well, I am very glad to hear it, because I haven't any great faith in these young housekeepers. What do you say, Topper?" Topper: Topper clearly had his eye on one of Scrooge's niece's sisters, for he answered that a bachelor was a wretched outcast, who had no right to express an opinion on the subject. Lace Tucker: Whereat Scrooge’s niece's sister -- the plump one with the lace tucker; not the one with the roses -- blushed. Present (greatly amused): After a while they played at blind-man's-buff. And I no more believe Topper was really blinded than I believe he had eyes in his boots. Because the way in which he went after that plump sister in the lace tucker was an outrage on the credulity of human nature. Topper: Knocking down the fire-irons, tumbling over the, chairs, bumping up against the piano, smothering himself among the curtains, wherever she went there went he! He always knew where to find her. Lace Tucker: He wouldn't catch anybody else. If you had fallen up against him, as some of them did, and stood there, he would have made an overblown feint of endeavoring to seize you, and then instantly sidle off in the direction of the lace tucker. Scrooge: "Here is a new game. A little more time, Spirit, only a little!" Fred: It was a game called ‘Yes and No,’ where Scrooge's nephew had to think of something, and the rest must find out what; he only answering to their questions yes or no, as the case was. Topper: The fire of questioning to which Fred was exposed elicited from him… Fred: That he was thinking of an animal, Fred’s Wife: a live animal, Lace Tucker: rather a disagreeable animal, Topper: a savage animal, Fred’s Wife: an animal that growled and grunted sometimes, Lace Tucker: and talked sometimes, and lived in London, Topper: and walked about the streets, and was not a horse, or an ass, or a cow, or a tiger, or a bear. Fred: At every new question put to him, Fred burst into a fresh roar of laughter; and was so inexpressibly tickled, that he was obliged to get up off the sofa and stamp. At last the plump sister cried out: -- Lace Tucker: "I know what it is, Fred! I know what it is!" Fred: "What is it? Lace Tucker: "It's your uncle Scro-o-o-o-oge!" Fred’s Wife: Which it certainly was. After a great deal of laughter, admiration was the sentiment, though some objected that the reply to "Is it a bear?" ought to have been "Yes." Present: Ebenezer had imperceptibly become so light of heart during the proceedings that a smile broke over his face even at the joke at his own expense. He was about to make a toast to the company who could neither see nor hear him when the whole scene passed off in an instant and they were again upon their travels. Fan: Much they saw, and far they went, and many homes they visited, but always with a happy end. The Spirit stood beside sick-beds, and they were cheerful; by poverty, and it was rich. In misery's every refuge, where vain man in his little brief authority had not made fast the door, the spirit left his blessing. Belle: At long last they stood together in an open place, and the chimes rang three quarters past eleven. Present: "Our time together grows short Ebenezer. Look here that you may remember well what has passed between us.” Fan: Scrooge gazed intently at the spirit’s robe and noticed something protruding from its skirts. From the folding of its robe, it brought two children; wretched, abject, and frightful. Belle: They knelt down at its feet, and clung upon the outside of its garment. They were a boy and girl. Where graceful youth should have filled their features out, a stale and shriveled hand, like that of age, had pinched, and twisted them. Scrooge: "Spirit! are they yours?" Present: "They are Man's, but they cling to me for protection. This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want. Beware them both, and all of their degree, but most of all beware this boy, for on his brow I see that written which is Doom, unless the writing be erased." Scrooge: "Have they no refuge or resource?" Present: "Are there no prisons? Are there no workhouses?" Fan: At this, the bell struck twelve. Belle: Scrooge looked about him for the Ghost, and saw it not. As the last stroke ceased to vibrate, he remembered Jacob Marley’s prediction, and lifting up his eyes, beheld a solemn Phantom, draped and hooded, coming, like a mist along the ground, directly towards him. Stave Four. The Last of the Spirits Tim (singing): In the bleak mid-winter Frosty wind made moan; Earth stood hard as iron, Water like a stone; Snow had fallen, snow on snow, Snow on snow, In the bleak mid-winter Long ago. Undertaker’s Man: The Phantom slowly, gravely, silently approached. When it came near him, Scrooge bent down upon his knee; for in the air through which this Spirit moved it seemed to scatter gloom and mystery. Young Scrooge: It was shrouded in a deep black garment, which concealed its head, its face, its form, and left nothing of it visible save one outstretched hand. He knew no more, for the Spirit neither spoke nor moved. Scrooge: "I am in the presence of the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come? Ghost of the Future! I fear you more than any spectre I have seen. But as I know your purpose is to do me good, I am prepared to bear your company. Will you not speak to me?" Undertaker’s Man: It gave him no reply. The hand was pointed straight before them. Scrooge: "Lead on, Spirit! The night is waning fast, and it is precious time to me, I know.” Young Scrooge: They scarcely seemed to enter the city; for the city rather seemed to spring up about them. But there they were in the heart of it; on The Exchange, amongst the merchants. Undertaker’s Man: The Spirit stopped beside one little knot of businessmen. Observing that the hand was pointed to them, Scrooge advanced to listen to their talk. Solicitor 1: "No, I don't know much about it either way. I only know he's dead." Solicitor 2: "When did he die?" Solicitor 1: "Last night, I believe." Solicitor 2: "Why, what was the matter with him? I thought he'd never die." Solicitor 1: "God knows.” Solicitor 2: "What has he done with his money?" Solicitor 1: "I haven't heard. Company, perhaps. He hasn't left it to me. That's all I know. Good Day!" Scrooge: Scrooge was surprised that the Spirit should attach importance to such a trivial conversation. Why was he a party to it, and who was the subject of the discussion? He looked about in that very place for his own image; but another man stood in his accustomed corner, and though the clock pointed to his usual time of day for being there, he saw no likeness of himself among the crowds. Joe: They left this busy scene, and went into an obscure part of the town, to a low shop where iron, old rags, and bottles were bought. A gray-haired rascal, of great age, sat smoking his pipe. Charwoman: Scrooge and the Phantom came into the presence of this man, just as a woman with a heavy bundle slunk into the shop. Undertaker’s Man: But she had scarcely entered, when another woman, similarly laden, came in too; and she was closely followed by a man in faded black. Joe: After a short period of blank astonishment, in which the old man with the pipe had joined them, they all three burst into a laugh. Charwoman: "Look here, old Joe, here's a chance! If we haven't all three met here without meaning it!—the charwoman, the laundress and the undertaker’s man." Joe: "You couldn't have met in a better place. We're all suitable to our calling, we're well matched. Come into the parlor. Come into the parlor." Charwoman: Every person has a right to take care of themselves. He always did! Who's the worse for the loss of a few things like these? Not a dead man, I suppose." Undertaker’s Man: "If he wanted to keep 'em after he was dead, the wicked old screw, why wasn't he natural in his lifetime?” Charwoman: “If he had been, he'd have had somebody to look after him when he was struck with Death, instead of lying gasping out his last there, alone by himself." Undertaker’s Man: "It's the truest word that ever was spoke, it's a judgment on him.” Charwoman: "I wish it was a little heavier judgment, and it should have been, you may depend upon it, if I could have laid my hands on anything else. Open that bundle, Joe, and let me know the value of it. Speak out plain. I'm not afraid to be the first, nor afraid for them to see it." Joe: "What do you call this? Bed-curtains!" Charwoman: "Bed-curtains, indeed! Joe: "You don't mean to say you took 'em down, rings and all, with him lying there?" Charwoman: "Yes I do. Why not?" Joe: "You were born to make your fortune, and you'll certainly do it." Charwoman: “Don't drop that oil upon the blankets, now." Joe: "His blankets?" Charwoman: "Whose else's do you think? He isn't likely to take cold without 'em. I dare say. Ah! You may look through that shirt till your eyes ache; but you won't find a hole in it. It's the best he had, and a fine one too. They'd have wasted it, if it hadn't been for me." Joe: "What do you call wasting of it?" Charwoman: "They’d have buried him in it, to be sure. As if calico an't good enough for such a purpose, it’s just as becoming to the body.” Undertaker’s Man: Scrooge listened to this dialogue in horror, even as the scene shifted and he found himself almost touching a bare, un-curtained bed. A pale light, rising in the outer air, fell straight upon this bed; and on it, unwatched, unwept, uncared for, was the body of this plundered unknown man. Scrooge: "Spirit, let me see some tenderness, some emotion connected with a death, or this dark chamber will be forever present to me." Fan: And at once he was conducted to poor Bob Cratchit's house, -- the dwelling he had visited before, -- and found the mother and the children seated round the fire. Belle: Quiet. Very quiet. The noisy little Cratchits were as still as statues in one corner, and sat looking up at Peter, who had a book before him. The mother and her daughters were engaged in needle-work. But surely they were very quiet! Peter: "'And He took a child, and set him in the midst of them.'" Fan: The mother laid her work upon the table, and put her hand up to her face. Mrs. C: "The color hurts my eyes. They're better now again. It makes them weak by candle-light; and I wouldn't show weak eyes to your father when he comes home, for the world. It must be near his time." Peter: "Past it rather. But I think he has walked a little slower than he used, these last few evenings, mother. But there he is now at the door!" Mrs. C: Mrs. Cratchit hurried out to meet him; and Bob in his comforter -- he had greater need of it now, poor fellow-- came in. Bob: He was at pains to be cheerful and kind with them, and spoke pleasantly to all the family. He looked at the work upon the table, and praised the industry and speed of Mrs Cratchit and the girls. They would be done long before Sunday, he said. Mrs. C: "Sunday! You went to-day, then, Robert?" Bob: "Yes, my dear. I wish you could have gone. It would have done you good to see how green a place it is. But you'll see it often. I promised him that I would walk there every Sunday. Belle: At this the two young Cratchits got upon his knees and laid, each child a little cheek, against his face, as if they said, "Don't mind it, father. Don't be grieved!" Bob: “I met Mr. Scrooge’s nephew Fred in the street today, who seeing that I looked a little—just a little down you know—enquired what had happened to distress me. And when I told him, he said ‘I am heartily sorry for it, Mr. Cratchit, heartily sorry. If I can be of service to you in any way,' he said, giving me his card, 'that's where I live. Pray come and see me.' It really seemed as if he had known our Tiny Tim, and felt with us.” Mrs. C: "I'm sure he's a good soul! And however and whenever we part from one another, I am sure we shall none of us forget poor Tiny Tim—shall we—or this first parting that there was among us?" Scrooge: "Spectre, something informs me that our parting moment is at hand. I know it, but I know not how. Tell me what man that was, with the covered face, whom we saw lying dead?" Young Scrooge: The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come conveyed him to a dismal, wretched, ruinous churchyard. Undertaker’s Man: The Spirit stood among the graves, and pointed down to One. Scrooge: Before I draw nearer to that stone to which you point, answer me one question. Are these the shadows of the things that Will be, or are they shadows of the things that May be only?" Undertaker’s Man: Still the Ghost pointed downward to the grave by which it stood. Scrooge: "Men's courses will foreshadow certain ends, to which, if persevered in, they must lead. But if the courses be departed from, the ends will change. Say it is thus with what you show me!" Undertaker’s Man: The Spirit was immovable as ever. Young Scrooge: Scrooge crept towards it, trembling as he went; and, following the finger, read upon the stone of the neglected grave his own name, -- EBENEZER SCROOGE. Scrooge: "No, Spirit! O no, no! Spirit! hear me! I am not the man I was. Why show me this, if I am past all hope? Assure me that I yet may change these shadows you have shown me by an altered life." Fan: For the first time the kind hand faltered. Scrooge: "I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach. O, tell me I may sponge away the writing on this stone!" Past: Holding up his hands in one last prayer to have his fate reversed, he saw an alteration in the Phantom's hood and dress. It shrunk, collapsed, and dwindled down into a bedpost. Scrooge: 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! “Oh Jacob Marley! Heaven, and Christmas Time be praised for this! I say it on my knees, dear Jacob; on my knees! The bedcurtains! 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!" Present: He had frisked into the sitting-room, and was now standing there: perfectly winded. Scrooge: "There's the saucepan that the gruel was in!" cried Scrooge, starting off again, and going round the fire-place. "There's the door, by which the Ghost of Jacob Marley entered! There's the corner where the Ghost of Christmas Present sat! It's all right, it's all true, it all happened. "I don't know what to do! I am as light as a feather, I am as happy as an angel, I am as merry as a school-boy. I am as giddy as a drunken man. A merry Christmas to everybody! A happy New Year to all the world!” (laughter) I don't know what day of the month it is! I don't know how long I've been among the Spirits. I don't know anything. (more laughter) Past: Running to the window, he opened it, and put out his head. No fog, no mist, no night; clear, bright, stirring, golden day. Scrooge: "Hallo there! What's to-day?" Boy: "Eh?" Scrooge: "What's to-day, my fine fellow?" Boy: "To-day! Why, Christmas Day." Scrooge: "It's Christmas Day! I haven't missed it. The Spirits have done it all in one night. They can do anything they like. Of course they can. Hallo, my fine fellow!" Boy: "Hallo!" Scrooge: "Do you know the Poulterer's, in the next street but one, at the corner?" Boy: "I should hope I did.” Scrooge: "An intelligent boy! 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?" Boy: "What, the one as big as me?" Scrooge: "What a delightful boy! It's a pleasure talking to him. Yes, my buck!" Boy: "It's hanging there now." Scrooge: "Is it? Go and buy it." Boy: "Walk-er!" Scrooge: "No, no, 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!" Fan: The boy was off like a shot. Scrooge: "I'll send it to Bob Cratchit's! He sha'n't know who sends it. It's twice the size of Tiny Tim! Past: Scrooge dressed himself "all in his best," and at last got out into the streets. The people were by this time pouring forth, and Scrooge regarded every one with a delighted smile. He looked so irresistibly pleasant, in a word, that three or four good-humored 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 in times past, these were the most blissful in his ears. Present: He had not gone far, when coming on towards him he beheld one of the portly gentlemen who had walked into his counting-house the day before. 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. Scrooge: "My dear sir. How do you do? A merry Christmas to you, sir!" Solicitor 1: "Mr. Scrooge?" Scrooge: "Yes, 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"-- Present: Here Scrooge whispered discreetly in the gentleman’s ear. Solicitor 1: "Lord bless me! My dear Mr. Scrooge, are you serious?" Scrooge: "If you please, not a farthing less. A great many back-payments are included in it, I assure you." Solicitor 1: "My dear sir!" Scrooge: "Will you come and see me?" Solicitor 1: "I will indeed!" Scrooge: "I am much obliged to you. I thank you fifty times. Bless you!" Past: He went to church, and walked about the streets, and watched the people hurrying to and fro, and found that everything he encountered could yield him pleasure. He had never dreamed that any walk—that anything—could give him so much happiness. Present: In the afternoon, he turned his steps towards his nephew's house. 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. His niece answered the door with a start. Fred’s wife: "Fred!" Fred: "Why, bless my soul! Who's that?" Scrooge: "It's I. Your uncle Scrooge. I have come for three reasons—first to beg your pardon Fred, for returning your repeated overtures with scorn and derision. I loved your mother very much Fred. She gave me all I ever knew of a happy home, and I was blind not to see her kindness and generous spirit in your face for lo these many years. Second, I’ve come to meet your lovely wife and a beautiful woman she is! I once was on the path you both have trod, if you can believe it. But I had neither the courage nor the commitment to be—to be truly happy in the life that you have chosen. But I fervently intend to embark on a different path starting today. And so finally, if your invitation to dinner still stands, I accept. Will you let me in?" Fred: Let him in! It is a mercy Fred didn't shake his arm off. Fred’s Wife: Uncle Scrooge was at home in five minutes. Scrooge: Nothing could be heartier. His niece was even more delightful than the night before. Topper looked the same when he came. So did the plump sister, when she came. So did every one when they came. Wonderful party, wonderful games, wonderful family, won-der-ful happiness! Past: O But he was early at the office next morning. If he could only be there first, and catch Bob Cratchit coming late! That was the thing he had set his heart upon. Present: And he did it. The clock struck nine. No Bob. A quarter past. No Bob. Bob was full eighteen minutes and a half behind his time. Bob: Bob's 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. Scrooge: "Cratchit! What do you mean by coming here at this time of day?" Bob: "I am very sorry, sir. I am behind my time." Scrooge: "Yes. I think you are. Step this way sir, if you please." Bob: "It's only once a year, sir. It shall not be repeated. I was making rather merry yesterday, sir." Scrooge: "Now, I'll tell you what, my friend. I am not going to stand this sort of thing any longer. And therefore… and therefore I have no alternative, but to raise your salary!" Bob: Bob trembled at this, and drew a little nearer to the ruler should the need arise to defend himself. Scrooge: "A merry Christmas, Bob! A merrier Christmas my good fellow, than I have given you for many a year! I'll raise your salary, and endeavor to assist your family in any way I can, and we will discuss your affairs this very afternoon, over a Christmas bowl. Now, make up the fires, and buy another coal-scuttle before you dot another i, Bob Cratchit!" Past: Scrooge was better than his word. Fan: He did it all, and infinitely more; Bob: And to Tiny Tim, who did NOT die, he was a second father. Fred: He became as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a man as the good old city ever knew, Mrs. C: And it was always said of him, that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge. Present: May that be truly said of us, and all of us! Tim: And so, as Tiny Tim observed, God Bless Us, Every One! Music: Joy to the World Instrumental