(_MRS. CRATCHIT, PETER, and the two younger CRATCHIT'S discovered.
Candle lighted. The SPIRIT enters, followed by SCROOGE._)
SCR. As through the old familiar streets we passed, I looked in vain to
find myself, but nowhere was I to be seen.
MRS. C. (_Laying down her work. Mourning._) The colour hurts my eyes,
and I wouldn't show weak eyes to your father. It must be near his
time--he walks slower than he used, and yet I've known him walk, with
Tiny Tim upon his shoulder, very fast indeed--but he was very light to
carry, and his father loved him, so that it was no trouble--no
trouble----
_Enter BOB, L. H. MRS. C. advances to meet him--the
CHILDREN crowd around him._
BOB. There, wife, I've returned at last. Come, you have been industrious
in my absence--the things will be ready before Sunday.
MRS. C. Sunday! You went to-day, then?
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 I would walk there of a Sunday--my little--little child--(_With much
emotion._)
MRS. C. Don't fret!
BOB. Fret! I met Mr. Scrooge's nephew just now, who, seeing that I
looked a little down, asked me what had happened. Ah, he's the
pleasantest spoken gentleman you ever heard--he told me he was sorry for
me and for my good wife--but how he knew _that_ I don't know!
MRS. C. Knew what?
BOB. Why, that you were a good wife! and he was so kind--it was quite
delightful! He said he'd get Peter a better situation--and, mark me,
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 was among us?
OMNES. Never! never! (_The CHILDREN crowd around their PARENTS, who kiss
them tenderly. A medium descends and hides the group._)
SCR. Spectre, something informs me that our parting moment is at
hand--tell me, ere you quit me, what man that was whom we saw lying
dead? (_The SPIRIT points onward slowly traverses the stage._) Still he
beckons me onward--there seems no order in these latter visions, save
they are in the future. Through yonder gloom I can see my own
dwelling--let me behold what I shall be in days to come--the house is
yonder--why do you point away? Ah! that house is no longer mine--another
occupies it. Ah! why is this? (_The medium is worked off, and
discovers._)