A Christmas Carol; Or, The Miser's Warning!

Frank. But why not?

Scr. Why did you get married?

Frank. Because I fell in love.

Scr. Because you fell in love! Bah! good evening.

Frank. I want nothing – I ask nothing of you. Well, I'm sorry to find you so resolute – we have never had any quarrel – I have made the trial in homage to Christmas, and I'll keep my Christmas humour to the last – so, a merry Christmas, uncle.

Scr. Good evening!

Frank. And a happy new year!

Scr. Good evening!

Enter Bob, 2 e. l. h

Frank. And a happy Christmas, and a merry new year to you, Bob Cratchit. (Shaking him by the hand.)

Bob. The same to you, sir, and many of 'em, and to your wife, and to your darling children, and to all your friends, and to all you know, and to every one, to all the world. (Exit Frank, 2 e. l. h.)

Scr. (Aside.) There's another fellow, my clerk, with fifteen shillings a week, and a wife and family, talking about a merry Christmas. I'll retire to Bedlam.

Bob. Two gentlemen want you, sir, as fat as prize beef – shall I call 'em in? (Goes to side.) Walk this way if you please, gentlemen.

Enter Mr. Cheerly and Mr. Heartly, 2 e. l. h., with books and papers

Cheer. Scrooge and Marley's – I believe I have the pleasure of addressing Mr. Marley!

Scr. Mr. Marley has been dead these seven years.

Cheer. At this festive season of the year, it is more than usually desirable that we should make some slight provision for the poor and destitute – many thousands are in want of common necessaries – hundreds of thousands are in want of common comfort, sir.

Scr. Are there no prisons? and the union workhouses, are they still in operation?

Cheer. They are still – I wish I could say they were not.

Scr. The treadmill and the poor law are in full vigour then?

Cheer. Both very busy, sir.

Scr. Oh! I was afraid from what you said at first, that something had occurred to stop them in their useful course. I'm very glad to hear it!

Cheer. Under the impression that they scarcely furnish Christian cheer of mind or body to the multitude, a few of us are endeavouring to raise a fund to buy the poor some meat and drink, and means of warmth. We choose this time because it is a time of all others, when want is keenly felt and abundances rejoice. What shall we put you down for?

Scr. Nothing!

Cheer. You wish to be anonymous?

Scr. I wish to be left alone. 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 named – they cost enough – those who are badly off must go there.

Cheer. Many can't go there – many would rather die!

Scr. If they'd rather die, they'd better do it, and decrease the surplus population. However, it's not my business, so good evening, gentlemen.

Cheer. I am sorry we disturbed you. (As they are about to exeunt, Bob approaches them —Scrooge retires up.)

Bob. Beg pardon, gentlemen, I've got an odd eighteen-pence here that I was going to buy a new pair of gloves with in honour of Christmas day, but my heart would feel warmer though my hands were colder, if it helped to put a dinner and a garment on a poor creature who might need. There take it.

Cheer. Such acts as these from such men as you sooner or later, will be well rewarded.

Bob. This way, gentlemen. I feel as light as my four-and-ninepenny gossamer! (Exeunt 2 e. l. h.)

Scr. (Coming down.) Give money – humbug! Who'd give me anything, I should like to know?

Re-enter Bob, 2 e. l. h

Bob. A letter, sir. (Gives it and retires up.)

Scr. (Opens it – reads.) Ah! what do I see? the Mary Jane lost off the coast of Africa. Then Frank is utterly ruined! his all was embarked on board that vessel. Frank knows not of this – he will apply to me doubtless – but no, no. Why should I part with my hard gained store to assist him, his wife and children – he chooses to make a fool of himself, and marry a smooth-faced chit, and get a family – he must bear the consequences – I will not avert his ruin, no, not by a single penny.

Bob. (Coming down.) Please, sir, it's nine o'clock.

Scr. Already! You'll want all day to-morrow, I suppose.

Bob. If quite convenient, sir.

Scr. It's 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. Christmas comes but once a year.

Scr. A poor excuse for picking a man's pockets every twenty-fifth of December! Well, I suppose you must have the whole day. Be here all the earlier next morning. Here's your week's money, fifteen shillings – I ought to stop half-a-crown – never mind!

Bob. Thank you, sir! I'll be here before daylight, sir, you may depend upon it. Good night, sir. Oh, what a glorious dinner Mrs. C. shall provide. Good night, sir. A merry Christmas and a happy new year, sir.

Scr. Bah! humbug! (Exit Bob, 2 e. l. h.) So – alone once more. It's a rough night! I will go to bed soon – that will save supper. (Takes off his coat, boots, etc., and puts on morning gown and slippers, talking all the time.) 'Tis strange now the idea of Marley is haunting me to-night – everywhere I turn his face seems before me. Delusion – humbug! I'll sit down by the fire and forget him. (Takes basin of gruel from hob.) Here's my gruel! (Sits in easy chair by fire – puts on night cap, and presently appears to dose. Suddenly a clanking of chains and ringing of bells is heard – he's aroused, and looks up terrified.) That noise! It's humbug! I won't believe it! (The door slowly opens, and the Ghost of Marley glides in. A chain is round his body, and cash boxes, ledgers, padlocks, purses, etc., are attached to it.) How now! What do you want with me?

Ghost. Much.

Scr. Who are you?

Ghost. Ask me who I was.

Scr. Who were you, then. You're particular for a shade – I mean to a shade.

Ghost. In life I was your partner, Jacob Marley. You don't believe in me! Why do you doubt your senses?

Scr. Because a little thing affects them. A slight disorder of the stomach makes them cheats. You may be an undigested bit of beef – a fragment of an underdone potato. There's more of gravy than of grave about you, whatever you are.