various sizes, in groups, playing with toys. A
Christmas tree, trimmed and lighted. Mr. and Mrs.
Kemper seated at table; their daughter Belle seated at
fire, dressing a doll for one of the girls._
_Mr. K._ Belle, I saw an old friend of yours this afternoon.
_Mrs. K._ Who was it?
_Mr. K._ Guess?
_Mrs. K._ How can I? Tut, don't I know (_laughingly_), Mr. Scrooge?
_Mr. K._ Mr. Scrooge it was--your old sweetheart (_laughing_). I passed
his office window, and as it was not shut up, and he had a candle
inside, I could scarcely help seeing him. His partner, old Jacob Marley,
lies upon the point of death, I hear. And there he sat, alone. Quite
alone in the world, I do believe.
_Mrs. K._ Poor old man.
[_Scene Closes._]
_Scro._ Spirit (_in a broken voice_), remove me from this place.
_Spir._ I told you these were shadows of the things that have been.
That they are what they are, do not blame me.
_Scro._ I am to blame for what they are, and now that I see what they
might have been, I am more wretched than ever. Remove me! I can not bear
it. (_Turns upon the spirit, and struggles with it._) Leave me! Take me
back! Haunt me no longer! (_Seizes the extinguisher-cap, presses it
down, while spirit sinks through trap, and disappears. When trap is
replaced, Scrooge reels to the bedstead, apparently exhausted, and with
the cap grasped in his hand, falls asleep._)
CURTAIN.
STAVE THREE.
SCENE I.--_Adjoining room in Scrooge's house. Flat to
represent piles of turkeys, geese, game, poultry,
joints of meat, sucking-pigs, strings of sausages,
oysters, mince pies, plum-puddings, pears, apples,
oranges, cakes and bowls of punch; also holly,
mistletoe and ivy._
_The Spirit of Christmas Present_ R. [_a giant_], _discovered holding a
glowing torch--shaped like a cornucopia, to shed its light on Scrooge's
entrance._
_Spir._ Come in!
_Enter Scrooge, timidly_, L.
_Spir._ Come in, and know me better, man. You have never seen the like
of me before.
_Scro._ Never.
_Spir._ Have never walked forthwith the younger members of my family,
meaning--for I am very young--my elder brothers, born in these later
years?
_Scro._ I don't think I have. I am afraid I have not. Have you had many
brothers, Spirit?
_Spir._ More than eighteen hundred.
_Scro._ A tremendous family to provide for. Spirit, conduct me where you
will. I went forth last night on compulsion, and I learned a lesson
which is working now. To-night, if you have aught to teach me, let me
profit by it.
_Spir._ Touch my robe, and remember that we are invisible, and unable to
manifest our presence to those with whom we come in contact. Loose not
your hold, lest you should lose yourself. [_Exeunt_ L.]
SCENE II.--_Bob Cratchit's home. Mrs. Cratchit
discovered laying cloth. Belinda assisting her. Master
Peter Cratchit blowing the fire._
_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?
_Enter Little Cratchit and Martha. Door in flat._
_Little C._ Here's Martha, mother! Here's Martha Hurrah! Oh, Martha,
there's such a big goose at the bakers, next door. I smelt it cooking.
_Mrs. C._ Why, bless your heart alive, my dear, how late you are!
(_Kissing her and taking off her bonnet and shawl._)
_Martha._ We'd a deal of work to finish up last night, and had to clear
away this morning, mother.
_Mrs. C._ Well, never mind, so long as you are come. Sit ye down before
the fire, my dear, and have a warm, Lord bless ye.
_Little C._ No, no! There's father coming. Hide, Martha, hide. (_Martha
gets behind the door._)
_Enter Bob Cratchit with Tiny Tim on his shoulder and
little crutch in his hand. Spirit and Scrooge
following, coming down front, and observing with
interest all that passes._
_Bob._ Why, where's our Martha? (_Looking around and putting Tiny Tim
down._)
_Little C._ Come, Tiny Tim, and see the pudding boil.
[_Exeunt children._]
_Mrs. C._ Not coming.
_Bob._ Not coming! not coming, on Christmas Day?
_Mar._ (_Running into his arms._) Dear father! I could not see you
disappointed, if it were only in joke.
_Bob._ (_Embraces her._) You're a good girl, Martha, and a great
comfort to us all. (_Commences to mix a bowl of punch._)
_Mrs. C._ And how did little Tim behave?
_Bob._ As good as gold, 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 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. Tiny
Tim is growing strong and hearty.
_Enter Little Cratchit and Peter Cratchit with the goose, followed by
Tiny Tim._
_Little C._ Hurrah! Hurrah! Here's Peter with the big goose.
_Tiny Tim._ Hurrah!
(_Children place chairs around the table; Bob puts Tiny Tim in a high
chair beside him, and Peter on his left, facing front, Belinda and
Little Cratchit opposite. Mrs. C. and Martha at the end of the table.
Bob carves and serves the goose, Mrs. C. the gravy and mashed potatoes,
and Martha the apple-sauce._)
_Little C._ Oh! oh! Look at the stuffing.
_Tiny T._ Hurrah!
_Bob._ I don't believe there ever was such a goose as this cooked. It's
more tender than a woman's love, and only cost two and sixpence. A Merry
Christmas to us all, my dears. God bless us.
_All._ God bless us.
_Tiny T._ God bless us every one.
_Scro._ Spirit, tell me if Tiny Tim will live?
_Spir._ I see a vacant seat in the poor chimney-corner and a crutch
without an owner carefully preserved. If these shadows remain unaltered
by the future, none other of my race will find him here. What then? If
he be like to die, he had better do it, and decrease the surplus
population.
_Scro._ (_Hangs his head._) My very words.
_Spir._ Man--if man you be in heart, not adamant--forbear that wicked
cant 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, in
the sight of Heaven, you are more worthless and less fit to live than
millions like this poor man's child. Oh, Heaven! to hear the insect on
the leaf pronouncing on the too much life among his hungry brothers of
the dust!
_Mrs. C._ Now, Martha and Belinda, change the plates, while I bring the
nuts, apples and oranges.
_Bob._ (_Rising and placing the punch-bowl on the table._) Here is what
will remind us it is Christmas. (_Fills three tumblers and custard-cup
without a handle, and passes them to Mrs. C., Peter and Martha._) I'll
give you Mr. Scrooge, the founder of the feast.
_Mrs. C._ 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, 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.
_All._ A Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year.
_Scro._ Spirit, take me away. I see the very mention of my name casts a
gloom on what, were it not for me, would be a very happy party.
_Spir._ Wait; they will soon put the memory of you aside, and will be
ten times merrier than before, and Tiny Tim will sing.
_Scro._ No, no; take me hence.
(_As they retire toward the door, the spirit shakes his torch toward the
party, which restores good humor._)
_Little C._ Oh! we forgot the pudding!
_All._ The pudding! the pudding! (_Laughter and confusion._)
SCENE III.--_A street. Mansion with lighted window,
showing shadow of a group. Sounds of music inside._
_Enter Spirit and Scrooge_ L. _A lamp-lighter with
torch and ladder_ R; _as he passes them, the spirit
waves his torch, and the lamp-lighter exits singing a
carol. Enter two men, quarreling._
_First Man._ But, I know better, it is not so.
_Second Man._ It is so, and I will not submit to contradiction.
(_Spirit waves his torch over them._)
_First Man._ Well, I declare, here we are, old friends, quarreling on
Christmas Day. It is a shame to quarrel on Christmas Day.
_Second Man._ So it is a shame to quarrel on this day. God love it, so
it is; come, and if we are not merry for the rest of it, it shall not be
my fault. [_Exeunt._]
_Scro._ Spirit, is there a peculiar flavor in what you sprinkle from
your torch?
_Spir._ There is. My own.
_Scro._ I notice that you sprinkle it to restore good humor, and over
dinners. Would it apply to any kind of dinner on this day?
_Spir._ To any kindly given. To a poor one most.
_Scro._ Why to a poor one most?
_Spir._ Because it needs it most.
_Enter Ignorance and Want; approaching the Spirit, they kneel at his
feet. Scrooge starts back appalled._
_Spir._ Look here! oh, man, look here! Look! look down here. Behold,
where graceful youth should have filled their features out and touched
them with its freshest tints; a stale and shriveled hand, like that of
age, has pinched and twisted them and pulled them into shreds. Where
angels might have sat enthroned, devils lurk and glare out, menacing. No
change, no degradation, no perversion of humanity, in any grade, through
all the mysteries of wonderful creation, has monsters half so horrible
and dread.
_Scro._ They are fine-looking children. Spirit, are they yours?
_Spir._ They are man's. And they cling to me, appealing from their
fathers. 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. Deny
it, great city. Slander those who tell it ye. Admit it for your factious
purposes, make it worse, and abide the end.
_Scro._ Have they no refuge or resource?
_Spir._ Are there no prisons? Are there no work-houses?
_Scro._ My very words, again.
_Spir._ Begone! hideous, wretched creatures, your habitation should not
be in a Christian land. (_Ignorance and Want slouch off._) Let us
proceed, time is passing, and my life is hastening to an end.
_Scro._ Are spirit's lives so short?
_Spir._ My life on this globe is very brief. It ends to-night.
_Scro._ To-night?
_Spir._ To-night, at midnight. (_Exeunt._)
SCENE IV--_Drawing room. Mr. and Mrs. Fred Merry, Miss
Julia Kemper, Miss Sarah Kemper, Mr. Thomas Topper,
Mr. Henry Snapper, discovered seated around the
dessert table. Servant serving coffee._
_All._ (_Laughing_) Ha, ha! ha, ha, ha, ha!
_Enter Spirit and Scrooge_, L.
_Fred._ He said Christmas was a humbug, as I live.
_All._ Ha, ha! Ha, ha, ha, ha!
_Fred._ He believed it, too.
_Mrs. M._ More shame for him, Fred!
_Fred._ He's a comical old fellow, that's the truth; and not so pleasant
as he might be; however, his offenses carry their own punishment, and I
have nothing to say against him.
_Mrs. M._ I'm sure he's very rich, Fred. At least you always tell _me_
so.
_Fred._ What of that, my dear. His wealth is of no use to him. He don't
do any good with it. He don't make himself comfortable with it. He
hasn't the satisfaction of thinking--ha, ha, ha, ha!--that he is ever
going to benefit us with it.
_Mrs. M._ I have no patience with him.
_Julia._ Neither have I for such a stingy old wretch!
_Fred._ Oh, I have. I am sorry for him; I couldn't be angry with him if
I tried. 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.
_Mrs. M._ Indeed, I think he loses a very good dinner.
_Sarah._ A much better one than he could have served up in his old dingy
chambers.
_Fred._ Well, I'm very glad to hear it, because I haven't great faith in
these young housekeepers. What do _you_ say, Topper?
_Topper._ A bachelor like myself is a wretched outcast, and has no right
to express an opinion on such an important subject.
_Mrs. M._ Do go on, Fred. He never finishes what he begins to say. He is
such a ridiculous fellow.
_Fred._ I was only going to say, that the consequence of our uncle
taking a dislike to us, and not making merry with us, _is_, as I think,
that he loses some pleasant moments, which could do him no harm. I am
sure he loses pleasanter companions than he finds in his own thoughts,
either in his moldy old office or his dusty chambers. I mean to give him
the same chance every year, whether he likes it or not, for I pity him.
He may rail at Christmas till he dies, but he can't help thinking better
of it--I defy him--if he finds me going there, in good temper, year
after year, and saying, Uncle Scrooge, I wish you A Merry Christmas and
A Happy New Year! If it only puts him in the vein to leave his poor
clerk fifty pounds, _that's_ something; and I think I shook him
yesterday.--Come, let us have some music. Here, Thomas, clear away.
[_All rise and go to the piano. Waiter clears table during the singing
of a Christmas carol or any selected piece._]
_Fred._ We must not devote the whole evening to music. Suppose we have a
game?
_All._ Agreed.
_Spir._ Time flies; I have grown old. We must hasten on.
_Scro._ No, no! One half hour, Spirit, only one.
_Fred._ I have a new game to propose.
_Sarah._ What is it?
_Fred._ It is a game called Yes and No. I am to think of something and
you are all to guess what it is. I am thinking of an animal, a live
animal, rather a disagreeable animal, a savage animal that growls and
grunts sometimes, and talks sometimes, and lives in London, and walks
about the streets, and is not made a show of, and is not led by anybody
and don't live in a menagerie, and is not a horse, a cow or a donkey or
a bull. There, now guess?
_Mrs. M._ Is it a pig?
_Fred._ No.
_Julia._ Is it a tiger?
_Fred._ No.
_Topper._ Is it a dog?
_Fred._ No.
_Sarah._ Is it a cat?
_Snapper._ It's a monkey.
_Fred._ No.
_Mrs. M._ Is it a bear?
_Fred._ No.
_Julia._ I have found it out! I know what it is, Fred! I know what it
is!
_Fred._ What is it?
_Julia._ It's your uncle Scro-o-o-oge!
_Fred._ Yes.
_All._ Ha, ha, ha! ha, ha, ha!
_Mrs. M._ It is hardly fair, you ought to have said yes, when I said,
it's a bear.
_Fred._ He has given us plenty of merriment, I'm sure, and it would be
ungrateful not to drink his health. Here is some mulled wine ready to
our hand at the moment; and when you are ready I say uncle Scrooge!
(_Servant brings wine forward._)
_All._ Well! Uncle Scrooge!
_Fred._ A Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year to the old man. He
wouldn't take it from me, but may he have it, nevertheless. Uncle
Scrooge!
_All._ Uncle Scrooge, uncle Scrooge!
(_Scrooge seems to make efforts to reply to the toast, while spirit
drags him away._)
CURTAIN.
STAVE FOUR.
SCENE I.--_Scrooge's chambers._
_Scrooge discovered upon his knees._
_Scro._ Can this be the Spirit of Christmas Future that I see
approaching? shrouded in a black garment, which conceals its head, its
form, its face, and leaves nothing visible save one outstretched hand. I
am in the presence of the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. It points
onward with its hand. You are about to show me the shadows of things
that have not happened, but will happen in the time before us. Is that
so, Spirit? (_Rises and stands trembling._) 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, and as I hope to live to be another man from what I was, I
am prepared to bear you company, and do it with a thankful heart. Will
you not speak to me? It will not speak. The hand points straight before
us. Lead on! Lead on! The night is waning fast, and it is precious time
to me, I know. Lead on, Spirit.
(_Scrooge crosses stage, as if following Spirit to tormentor entrance,
and remains while the scene changes._)
SCENE II.--_A Street._
_Scro._ Ah, here comes Stevens and there Jones. I have always made it a
point to stand well in their esteem--that is in a business point of
view.
_Enter Mr. Stevens_ R. _and Mr. Jones_ L., _meeting_.
_Stevens._ How are you?
_Jones._ Pretty well. So Old Scratch has got his own, at last, hey?
_Stev._ So I am told. Cold, isn't it?
_Jones._ Seasonable for Christmas-time. You're not a skater, I suppose?
_Stev._ No, no. Something else to think of. Good morning. [_Exeunt in
opposite directions._]
_Scro._ Ah, here are more of my old business friends; the Spirit directs
me to hear what they say.
_Enter Mr. Fatchin, Mr. Snuffer and Mr. Redface._
_Mr. F._ No; I don't know much about it, either way; I only know he's
dead.
_Mr. R._ When did he die?
_Mr. F._ Last night, I believe.
_Mr. S._ Why, what was the matter with him? (_Takes snuff out of a large
snuff-box._) I thought he would never die.
_Mr. F._ I did not take the trouble to inquire.
_Mr. R._ What has he done with his money?
_Mr. F._ I haven't heard (_yawning_); left it to his company, perhaps.
He hasn't left it to _me_. That's all I know. (_All laugh._) It's likely
to be a very cheap funeral, for upon my life I don't know of any body to
go to it. Suppose we make up a party and volunteer?
_Mr. R._ I don't mind going if a lunch is provided. I must be fed if I
make one. (_All laugh._)
_Mr. F._ Well, I am the most disinterested, after all, for I never wear
black gloves and I never eat lunch. But I'll offer to go, if any body
else will. When I come to think of it, I am not at all sure that I
wasn't his most particular friend; for we used to stop and speak
whenever we met.
_Mr. S._ I would volunteer, but that I have another little matter to
attend to that will prevent me. However, I have no objections to joining
you in a drink to his memory.
_Mr. R._ I am with you. Let us adjourn to the punch bowl. [_Exeunt._]
_Scro._ To whom can these allusions refer; Jacob Marley has been dead
these seven years, and surely those whom I have considered my best
friends would not speak of my death so unfeelingly. I suppose, however,
that these conversations have some latent moral for my own improvement,
and as I have now resolved upon a change of life, I shall treasure up
all I see and hear. Lead on, Shadow, I follow! (_Crosses to the opposite
entrance and remains._)
SCENE III.--_Interior of a junk or pawn-shop._
_Enter Old Joe, ushering in Mrs. Mangle, Mrs. Dilber
and Mr. Shroud, door in flat._
_Old Joe._ You couldn't have met in a better place; come in. You were
made free here long ago, you know, and the other two ain't strangers.
Stop till I shut the door of the shop. Ah! how it shrieks! There isn't
such a rusty bit of metal in the place as its own hinges, I believe, and
I'm sure there's no such old bones here as mine. Ha, ha! We're all
suitable to our calling, we're well matched. Come, come! we are at home
here. (_Trims smoky lamp at table._)
_Mrs. M._ What odds, then! What odds, Mrs. Dilber? (_Throws her bundle
on the floor and sits on a stool, resting her elbows on her knees._)
Every person has a right to take care of themselves. _He_ always did.
_Mrs. D._ That's true, indeed! No man cared for himself more than he
did.
_Mrs. M._ Why, then, don't stand staring as if you was afraid, woman;
who's the wiser? We're not going to pick holes in each other's coats, I
suppose?
_Mr. Shroud._ No, indeed! We should hope not.
_Mrs. M._ Very well, then: that's enough. Who's the worse for the loss
of a few things like these? Not a dead man, I suppose.
_Mr. S._ (_Laughing._) No, indeed.
_Mrs. M._ If he wanted to keep 'em after he was dead, the wicked old
Screw, why wasn't he natural in his life time? 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.
_Mrs. D._ It's the truest word ever was spoke. It's a judgment on him.
_Mrs. M._ 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, Old Joe, and let me know the value of it. Speak
out plain. I'm not afraid to be the first, nor afraid to let them see
it. We knew pretty well that we were helping ourselves, before we met
here, I believe. It's no sin. Open the bundle, Joe.
_Mr. S._ Oh, no; we don't mind showing what we have. Here, Joe, value
these. (_Mrs. D. and Mr. S. lay their packages on the table and Joe
proceeds to examine them._)
_Joe._ (_Chalking the figures on the wall as he names them._) A seal,
eight shillings; pencil-case, three and six pence; pair of
sleeve-buttons, five and four-pence; scarf-pin, ninepence. Nine and
four, thirteen, and six, is nineteen--seven. One and five's six, and
thirteen is nine, and eight makes seventeen. That's your account, and I
wouldn't give another sixpence if I was to be boiled for it. Who's next?
_Mrs. D._ I hope you'll be more liberal with me, Mr. Joe. I'm a poor,
lone widow, and it's hard for me to make a living.
_Joe._ I always give too much to the ladies. It's a weakness of mine,
and that's the way I ruin myself. Under-clothing, sheets, towels,
sugar-tongs; these tea-spoons are old-fashioned, and the boots won't
bear mending. One pound six, that's your account. If you asked me
another penny, and made it an open question I'd repent of being liberal,
and knock off half a crown.
_Mrs. M._ Now, undo _my_ bundle, Joe.
_Joe._ (_Opening bundle._) What do you call this? Bed curtains?
_Mrs. M._ Ah! (_Laughing._) Bed curtains.
_Joe._ You don't mean to say you took 'em down, rings and all, with Old
Scrooge lying there?
_Mrs. M._ Yes I do. Why not?
_Joe._ You were born to make your fortune, and you'll certainly do it.
_Mrs. M._ I certainly shan't hold my hand, when I can get anything in it
by reaching it out, for the sake of such a man as _he_ was, I promise
you, Joe. Don't drop that oil upon the blanket, now.
_Joe._ His blankets?
_Mrs. M._ Whose else's do you think? He isn't likely to take cold
without 'em, I dare say.
Joe. I hope he didn't die of anything catching. Eh? (_Stopping his work
and looking up._)
_Mrs. M._ Don't you be afraid of that: I ain't so fond of his company
that I'd loiter about him for such things if he did. Ah, you may look
through that shirt till your eyes ache, but you won't find a hole in it
nor a thread-bare place. 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?
_Mrs. M._ (_laughing._) Putting it on him to be buried in, to be sure.
Somebody was fool enough to do it, but I took it off again. If calico
ain't good enough for such a purpose, it isn't good enough for anything.
It's as becoming to the body. He can't look uglier than he did in that
one.
_Joe._ Well, well! I'll ruin myself again. I'll give you two guineas for
the lot, and go to the bankrupt court. (_Takes bag of coin and counts
out their amounts._)
_Mrs. M._ Ha, ha! This is the end of it, you see. He frightened every
one away from him when he was alive, to profit us when he was dead.
_All._ Ha, ha, ha! [_Exeunt door in flat, old Joe lighting them out._]
_Scro._ Spirit! I see, I see. This is my own case, if nothing happens to
change it. My life tends this way. Spirit, in leaving this. I shall not
leave its lesson; trust me. If there is any person in the city who feels
the least emotion for the death here announced, show that person to me.
[_Crosses to_ L., _while scene closes in_.]
SCENE IV.--_Street. Exterior of Scrooge & Marley's
Counting House._
_Scro._ Why, here is my place of business, and has been occupied by
Scrooge & Marley for many years. I see the house, let me behold what I
shall be in the days to come. Why, Spirit, the house is yonder. Why do
you point away? (_Goes to the window and looks in._) It is the old
office still; the same furniture; but no one occupies my chair. Ah! some
one comes.
_Enter James Badger from Counting House, going off
right, meets Mrs. Badger at right entrance._
_Mrs. B._ Ah! James. I have waited for you so long. What news? Is it
good or bad?
_James._ Bad.
_Mrs B._ We are quite ruined?
_James._ No. There is hope yet, Caroline.
_Mrs. B._ If _he_ relents, there is. Nothing is past hope, if such a
miracle has happened.
_James._ He is past relenting. He is dead.
_Mrs. B._ Dead! Thank Heaven; we are saved. (_Pause._) I pray
forgiveness, I am sorry that I gave expression to the emotions of my
heart.
_James._ What the half drunken woman, whom I told you of last night,
said to me when I tried to see him and obtain a week's delay, and what I
thought was a mere excuse to avoid me, turns out to have been quite
true. He was not only very ill, but dying then.
_Mrs. B._ To whom will our debt be transferred?
_James._ I don't know, and I have been unable to ascertain. At all
events, before that time we shall be ready with the money; and even
though we were not, it would be a bad fortune indeed to find so
merciless a creditor in his successor. We may sleep to-night with light
hearts, Caroline!
_Mrs. B._ Yes; and our dear children will be brighter when they find the
gloom dispelled from the minds of their parents. We cannot deny that
this man's death has occasioned some happiness.
_James._ Come, let us hurry home [_Exeunt_, R.]
_Scro._ Spirit, it is evident that the only emotion you can show me,
caused by the event foreshadowed, is one of pleasure. Let me see some
tenderness connected with the death of another, or what has just been
shown me will be forever present in my mind.
SCENE V.--_Bob Cratchit's home. Mrs. Cratchit,
Belinda, Little Cratchit and Peter Cratchit discovered
at table, the two former sewing and the latter reading
a book._
_Peter._ (_Reading._) And he took a child and set him in the midst of
them.
_Scro._ Where have I heard those words? I have not dreamed them. Why
does he not go on?
_Mrs C._ (_Betrays emotions; lays her work upon the table, and puts her
hand to her face._) The color hurts my eyes.
_Bel._ Yes, poor Tiny Tim!
_Mrs. C._ They're better now. 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. (_Resumes her work._)
_Peter._ Past it, rather (_shutting up book_), but I think he has
walked a little slower than he used, these last few evenings, mother.
_Mrs. C._ (_In a faltering voice._) I have known him walk with--I have
known him walk with Tiny Tim upon his shoulder very fast indeed.
_Peter._ And so have I, often.
_Bel._ And so have I.
_Mrs. C._ But he was very light to carry, and his father loved him so,
that it was no trouble; no trouble. And there is your father at the
door.
_Enter Bob Cratchit. Belinda and Little Cratchit meet
him; Peter places a chair for him, and Mrs. C. averts
her head to conceal her emotion. Bob kisses Belinda,
and takes Little C. on his knees, who lays his little
cheek against his face._
_Bob._ Hard at work, my dears; hard at work. Why, how industrious you
are, and what progress you are making. You will be done long before
Sunday.
_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 on a Sunday. My little, little child! my
little child! (_Rises and retires up stage to compose himself; returns
and resumes his place at the table._) Oh, I must tell you of the
extraordinary kindness of Mr Scrooge's nephew, whom I have scarcely seen
but once, and who, meeting me in the street, and seeing that I looked a
little--just a little--down, you know, inquired what had happened to
distress me. On which, for he is the pleasantest-spoken gentleman you
ever heard, I told him. I am heartily sorry for it, Mr. Cratchit, he
said, and heartily sorry for your good wife. By-the-bye, how he ever
knew _that_, I don't know.
_Mrs. C._ Knew what, my dear?
_Bob._ Why, that you were a good wife.
_Peter._ Everybody knows that!
_Bob._ Very well observed, my boy. I hope they do. Heartily sorry, he
said, for your good wife. If I can be of service to you in any way, he
said, giving me his card, that's where I live; pray come to me. Now, it
wasn't for the sake of anything he might be able to do for us, so much
as for his kind way, that this was quite delightful. 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.
_Bob._ You would be sure of it, my dear, if you saw and spoke to him. I
shouldn't be at all surprised--mark my words--if he got Peter a better
situation.
_Mrs. C._ Only hear that, Peter.
_Bel._ And then Peter will be keeping company with some one, and setting
up for himself.
_Peter._ (_Grinning_.) Get along with you!
_Bob._ It's just as likely as not, one of these days; though there's
plenty of time for that, my dear. But, however and whenever we part from
one another, I am sure we shall none of us forget poor Tiny Tim, shall
we?
_All._ Never, father.
_Bob._ And I know, I know, my dears, that when we recollect how patient
and how mild he was--although he was a little child--we shall not
quarrel easily among ourselves, and forget poor Tiny Tim in doing it.
_All._ No, never, father. (_All rise._)
_Bob._ I am very happy. I am very happy! (_Kisses Mrs C., Belinda, Young
C. and shakes hands with Peter._) Spirit of Tiny Tim, thy childish
essence is from above.
CURTAIN.
STAVE FIVE.
SCENE I.--_Scrooge's chamber. Scrooge discovered on
his knees at the easy chair._
_Scro._ Spirit! Hear me! I am not the man I was. I will not be the man I
must have been, but for this intercourse. Why have shown me all that you
have, if I am past all hope? Good Spirit, your nature intercedes for me,
and pities me. Assure me that I yet may change the shadows you have
shown me, by an altered life. Your hand trembles. 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. Oh!
tell me I may sponge away the shadows of the future. (_Grasps the easy
chair in his agony, as if struggling to detain it._) Do not go, I
entreat you. It shrinks, it has collapsed, it has dwindled down into an
easy chair. Yes! my own chair, my own room and best--and happiest of
all--my own time before me to make amends in. Oh, Jacob Marley, Heaven
and the Christmas time be praised for this! I say it on my knees, old
Jacob; on my knees! (_Rises and goes and opens door_ R., 2d E.) They are
not torn down--the bed curtains are not torn down, rings and all. They
are there--I am here--the shadows of the things that would have been,
may be dispelled. They will be; I know they will! (_Commences to dress
himself, putting everything on wrong, etc._) I don't know what to do!
(_Laughing and crying._) 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 every body! A Happy New year to all the world! Halloo
here! Waoop! Halloo! (_Dancing and capering around the room._) There's
the saucepan that the gruel was in; there's the door by which the Ghost
of Jacob Marley entered; there's the corner (_pointing into adjoining
room_) where the Ghost of Christmas Past sat. It's all right; it's all
true; it all happened. Ha, ha, ha! (_Laughing heartily._) 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 any thing. I'm quite a baby. Never mind; I don't
care. I'd rather be a baby. Haloo! whoop! Halloo here! (_Bells or chimes
commences to ring. Goes to window and opens it._) No fog, no mist;
clear, bright, jovial, cold; cold, piping for the blood to dance to;
golden sunlight, heavenly sky; sweet, fresh air; merry bells. Oh,
glorious! glorious! (_Looking out of window_) Hey! you boy in your
Sunday clothes, what's to-day?
_Voice outside._ Eh?
_Scro._ What's to day my fine fellow?
_Voice outside._ To-day! why. Christmas Day.
_Scro._ It's Christmas Day; I haven't missed it. The Spirits have done
it all in one night. They can do any thing they like. Of course they
can. Of course they can. (_Returns to window._) Halloo, my fine fellow!
_Voice outside._ Halloo!
_Scro._ Do you know the poulterers in the next street but one, at the
corner?
_Voice outside._ I should hope I did.
_Scro._ 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?
_Voice outside._ What the one as big as me?
_Scro._ What a delightful boy. It's a pleasure to talk to him. Yes, my
buck.
_Voice outside._ It's hanging there now.
_Scro._ Is it? Go and buy it.
_Voice outside._ What do you take me for?
_Scro._ No, no. I am in earnest. Go and buy it, and tell 'em to bring it
here, that I may give them the directions 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 gave you half a crown. That boy's off like a
shot. I'll send it to Bob Cratchit's. (_Rubbing his hands and
chuckling._) He shan't know who sent it. It's twice the size of Tiny
Tim. Joe Miller never made such a joke as sending it to Bob's will be. I
must write the directions for that turkey. (_Sits at table to write._)
SCENE II--_A street. Exterior of Scrooge's Chambers._
_Enter Scrooge from the house._
_Scro._ (_Addressing the knocker on the door._) I shall love it as long
as I live. (_Patting the knocker._) I scarcely ever looked at it before.
What an honest expression it has in its face. It's a wonderful
knocker.--Here's the turkey.
_Enter boy with large turkey._
_Scro._ Halloo! Whoop! How are you! Merry Christmas! There's a turkey
for you! This bird never could have stood upon his legs, he would have
snapped 'em short off in a minute, like sticks of sealing-wax. Here's
your half-crown, boy. Now take the monster to Bob Cratchit,
Camden-town; and tell him it's a present from his grandmother, who
wishes him A Merry Christmas, and A Happy New Year. Hold, that, turkey
is too large for you to carry; take a cab, here's the money to pay for
it.
_Enter Mr. and Mrs. Badger_, R.
_Scro._ Why, here comes James Badger and wife, as sure as I live. Good
morning!
_James._ Good morning, sir! A Merry Christmas to you!
_Scro._ The same to you both, and many of them.
_Mrs. B._ He seems in a good humor, speak to him about it.
_Scro._ Going to church, eh?
_James._ We were going, sir, to hear the Christmas Carols, but mindful
of the obligation resting upon us, which falls due to-morrow, and of our
inability to meet the payment, we have called to beg your indulgence,
and ask for a further extension of time.
_Scro._ Why, James, how much do you owe me?
_James._ Twenty pounds, sir.
_Scro._ How long since you contracted the debt?
_James._ Ten years to morrow, sir.
_Scro._ Then you have already paid me over half the amount in interest,
which interest has been compounded, and I have, in fact, received more
than the principal. My dear fellow, you owe me nothing, just consider
the debt cancelled.
_James._ Surely, sir, you cannot mean it.
_Scro._ But I do.
_Mrs. B._ Oh, sir, how can we ever sufficiently manifest our gratitude
for such unexpected generosity?
_Scro._ By saying nothing about it. Remember, James and wife, this is
Christmas day, and on this day, of all others, we should do unto others
as we would have them do unto us.
_James._ May Heaven reward you, sir. You have lightened our hearts of a
heavy burden.
_Scro._ There, there! go to church.
_James._ We shall, sir, and remember our benefactor in our devotions.
(_Shaking hands._) I can say heartily a Merry Christmas.
_Mrs. B._ And A Happy New Year. [_Exeunt_ L.]
_Scro._ I guess they are glad, now, that I am alive, and will be really
sorry when I die. Halloo! Whoop!
_Enter Mr. Barnes_, L., _passes across stage; Scrooge follows and stops
him._
_Scro._ My dear sir (_taking both, his hands_), how do you do? I hope
you succeeded yesterday. It was very kind of you. A Merry Christmas to
you, sir.
_Mr. B._ Mr. Scrooge?
_Scro._ 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--(_Scrooge
whispers in his ear._)
_Mr. B._ Lord bless me--you take my breath away. My dear Mr. Scrooge,
are you really serious?
_Scro._ If you please. Not a farthing less. A great many back payments
are included in it, I assure you. Will you do me the favor?
_Mr. B._ My dear sir (_shaking hands with him_), I don't know what to
say to such munifi--
_Scro._ Don't say any thing, please. Come and see me. Will you come and
see me?
_Mr. B._ I will--with great pleasure. [_Exit_, R.]
_Scro._ Thank'er. I am much obliged to you. I thank you fifty times.
Bless you!
_Enter Bob Cratchit_, R., _with Tiny Tim on his shoulder_.
_Scro._ Halloo, Bob Cratchit! What do you mean by coming here?
_Bob._ I am very sorry, sir; I was not coming, I was only passing, sir,
on my way to hear the Christmas carols.
_Scro._ What right have you to be passing here to remind me that it is
Christmas?
_Bob._ It's only once a year, sir; it shall not be repeated.
_Scro._ Now, I'll tell you what, my friend. I am not going to stand this
any longer: and therefore I give you permission to pass my house fifty
times a day, if you want to. I give you a week's vacation, without any
deduction for lost time. I am about to raise your salary. (_Giving him a
dig in the waistcoat; Bob staggers back, and Scrooge follows him up._) A
Merry Christmas, Bob! (_Slapping him on the back._) A Merrier Christmas,
Bob, my good fellow, than I have ever given you for many a year! I'll
raise your salary, and endeavor to assist your struggling family, and
I'll be Tiny Tim's Godfather. Come along, my good fellow, we'll go to
church together, and discuss your affairs on the way. Tiny Tim, what do
you say to that?
_Tiny Tim._ I say God bless us, every one.
_Bob._ I would like to say something, sir, but you have deprived me of
the power of speech.
_Scro._ Come on, then, we'll talk it over as we go. Come Tiny Tim, and
go with your Godfather. (_Takes Tim on his shoulder. Exeunt_, L.)
SCENE III.--_Drawing Room in Fred Merry's house. Fred,
Mrs. Fred and Mrs. Kemper discovered seated at table,
conversing._
_Fred._ Is it possible! You surprise me. I never had the least idea that
you had ever met Uncle Scrooge, much less that he was an old admirer of
yours.
_Mrs. M._ Oh! do tell us all about it, dear mother; I'm dying to hear
it.
_Mrs. K._ Well, you must know, my dear children, that Fanny
Scrooge--your mother, Fred--was my earliest friend and schoolmate,
and through her I became acquainted with her brother--your uncle; at
that time a noble spirited boy, fresh from his studies. Our friendship
soon ripened into love, and a betrothal. I cannot describe to you how
happy and light hearted I was, and how true and devoted your uncle
continued. Our marriage was deferred until such time as he should
be in a position to provide us a suitable home. After he left Mr.
Fezziwig's, where he had served his time, he entered the service of
Jacob Marley, and subsequently became his partner. It was at this time
I observed a change in him; he was not less ardent than before, but
I soon discovered that avarice had become the guiding passion of his
nature, and that our love was subservient to its influence. Foreseeing
that only misery could ensue from our union, I released him from the
engagement. And now after the lapse of many years, with the exception
of the day, five years ago, when he attended your father's funeral, we
have not met or exchanged a word with each other.
_Mrs M._ But, mother, did you really love him?
_Mrs. K._ I did, my dear--previous to the discovery of the change in
him.
_Mrs. M._ And did you not sacrifice your love in releasing him?
_Mrs. K._ I merely sacrificed my desires to common sense. Love, to be
lasting, must be mutual, and if it is not paramount to all other
passions, it ends in misery or hate. Hence, being guided by judgment, I
soon found by experience that true love can again exist if worthily
bestowed.
_Fred._ Well, dear mother, I agree with your estimate of Uncle Scrooge.
This is the sixth Christmas Day of our married life, and each Christmas
Eve I have invited him to come and dine with us, but he has never yet
honored us with his presence, and I suppose he never will.
_Scro._ (_Gently opening the door and putting in his head._) Fred! may I
come in? (_All start and rise, and Fred rushes toward the door with both
hands extended._)
_Fred._ Why, bless my soul! who's that?
_Scro._ It's I, your Uncle Scrooge. I have accepted your invitation.
Will you let me in?
_Fred._ Let you in! (_Shaking him heartily by both hands._) Dear heart
alive! Why not! Welcome! welcome! My wife, your niece--Yes, you may.
(_Scrooge kisses her._) Our mother.
_Scro._ Belle! Heavens! What shall I do? (_Aside._)
_Mrs. K._ I fear that our meeting will be painful. I beg your
permission, my son, to retire.
_Fred._ No, no, no. This is Christmas Day. Everybody can be happy on
this day that desires to be, and I know that your meeting can be made a
pleasant and agreeable one if you both so will it. "Peace on earth and
good will to man," is the day's golden maxim.
_Scro._ Although somewhat embarrassed, I concur most heartily in the
wise and good-natured counsel of my dear nephew. Never before have I
experienced the joys common to this day, and never hereafter, while I am
permitted to live, shall I miss them. In the past twenty-four hours I
have undergone a complete revolution of ideas and desires, and have
awakened unto a new life. Instead of a sordid, avaricious old man, I
trust you will find a cheerful, liberal Christian, ever ready to extend
to his fellow creatures a Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year.
_Fred._ Why! uncle, I wonder _you_ don't go into Parliament. I could
dance for joy. (_Embracing him._) You dear old man! You shall ever find
a hearty welcome here.
_Mrs. M._ I join with my husband in his earnest congratulations.
_Mrs. K._ I confess, Mr. Scrooge, that I am rejoiced to find your
nephew's assertions so quickly verified, and that an opportunity is
offered to renew an acquaintance which I hope will end in uninterrupted
friendship. (_They shake hands._)
_Fred._ Ah, here comes Topper and the girls.
_Enter Topper and Julia Kemper, Snapper and Sarah Kemper._
_Fred._ Come, girls, hug and kiss your Uncle Scrooge, he has come to
make merry with us. (_Takes the girls to Scrooge, and endeavors to make
them hug, doing most of the hugging himself._) Hug him hard! This is
Topper, and this is Snapper, they are both sweet on the girls. (_All
laugh._)
_Julia and Sarah._ Oh, you bad man.
_Fred._ Come, let us lose no time. What do you say to a game? Shall it
be blind man's buff?
_All._ Agreed.
_Fred._ Come, Uncle Scrooge, the oldest, first.
_Scro._ Do with me as you please; it is Christmas Day.
(_They play a lively game, falling over chairs, etc. Scrooge catches
each lady, and guesses wrong, until he gets Mrs. Merry, who, in turn,
catches Topper, who pulls the bandage down and goes for Julia, and
pretends that he tells who she is by the way the hair is fixed, etc.
Scrooge and Mrs. Kemper retire up stage, and converse._)
_Julia._ Ah, that's not fair, you peeped. I won't play any more. (_Goes
up stage with Topper._)
_Fred._ Well, I could have guessed that catch, and it's nothing more
than fair that he should peep before making it. It seems, my dear, that
our company have divided into couples. Ought we not demand an
explanation?
_Mrs. M._ As master of the house, it is your duty.
_Fred._ Mr. Thomas Topper and others, we have long suspected you of some
horrible design against the peace and happiness of this family. What
say you to the charge?
_Julia._ On behalf our clients, we plead guilty.
_Sarah._ And urge extenuating circumstances.
_Fred._ Then nothing more remains, but for the Court to pronounce
sentence, which is, that you be placed under the bonds of matrimony, at
such time and place as may suit your convenience. But, Madam Belle
Kemper and Ebenezer Scrooge, what have you to say in your defense.
_Mrs. K._ Only this, that Christmas works wonders.
_Scro._ In other words, Mrs. Kemper finds that Christmas has restored me
to a primitive condition, and leaves it to time to test the merits of
the happy change. (_To audience._) We all have cause to bless Christmas,
and it shall always be my delight to wish you A Merry Christmas, and A
Happy New Year, with Tiny Tim's addition of "God bless us every one."
_CURTAIN._
* * * * *
Transcriber's Notes:
Obvious punctuation errors repaired. Corrections were made in the text
where part of a phrase or name was only partially italic. For example,
on page 34, the "F." of _Mr. F._ on one part of dialogue had been
printed as "_Mr._ F." These things were repaired.
Page iii, "peice" changed to "piece" (piece can be performed)
Page vi, "past" changed to "Past" (hearth for the Spirit of Christmas
Past)
Page vii, "Suit" changed to "Suite" (Fireplace L. Suite of)
Page vii, "dressar" changed to "dresser" (oranges on dresser)
Page viii, "Windew" changed to "Window" (G. Window L. C.)
Page viii, "Cratchet's" changed to "Cratchit's" (SCENE V.--Bob
Cratchit's)
Page 10, "calender" changed to "calendar" (the long calendar of)
Page 12, "Sch." changed to "Scro." (_Scro._. Oh! I was afraid)
Page 15, "make" changed to "made" (I made it link)
Page 16, "invisable" changed to "invisible" (sat invisible beside)
Page 19, "use" changed to "used" (than he used to be)
Page 19, "Gho." changed to "Scro." (_Scro._ Know it!)
Page 20, "to" changed to "too" (the world too much)
Page 21, "chosing" changed to "choosing" (or choosing her)
Page 23, "mistleto" changed to "mistletoe" (also holly, mistletoe)
Page 25, "Hurrrh" changed to "Hurrah" (Hurrah! Hurrah! Here's)
Page 26, "ahd" changed to "and" (than before, and Tiny)
Page 28, "Scro." changed to "Spir." (_Spir._ Begone! hideous)
Page 28, "desert" changed to "dessert" (around the dessert table)
Page 29, "househeepers" changed to "housekeepers" (these young
housekeepers)
Page 29, "vain" changed to "vein" (puts him in the vein)
Page 31, "prepered" changed to "prepared" (I am prepared to)
Page 31, "be ore" changed to "before" (before us. Lead)
Page 32, "That" changed to "That's" (That's all I know)
Page 33, "skrieks" changed to "shrieks" (how it shrieks!)
Page 34, "mysel" changed to "myself" (I ruin myself)
Page 45, "Suapper" changed to "Snapper" (and this is Snapper)