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

Mart. Here's Martha, mother!

Children. Here's Martha, mother – hurrah! There's such a goose, Martha!

Mrs. C. (Kissing Martha, and assisting her off with her bonnet, etc.) Why bless your heart alive, my dear, how late you are!

Mart. 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!

Children. (Looking off.) Father's coming! Hide, Martha, hide! (Martha runs behind closet door in f. Bob Cratchit enters with Tiny Tim upon his shoulder, l. h.)

Bob. (Looking round.) Why, where's our Martha?

Mrs. C. Not coming.

Bob. Not coming upon Christmas Day!

Martha. (Running towards him.) Yes, dear father, yes. (They embrace.)

Children. Come, Tiny Tim, into the washhouse, to hear the pudding singing in the copper! (They carry Tim out —Peter exits l. h.)

Mrs. C. And how did little Tim behave?

Bob. As good as gold. Somehow he gets thoughtful sitting by himself so much, and thinks the sweetest things you ever heard! (The Children re-enter with Tim.)

Children. The goose! the goose! (Peter re-enters carrying the goose – it is placed on the table, etc. All seat themselves at table.)

Scr. Bob's happier than his master! How his blessed urchins, mounting guard upon their posts, cram their spoons into their mouths, lest they should shriek for goose before their turn arrives to be helped! And now, as Mrs. Cratchit plunges her knife in its breast, a murmur of delight arises round the board, and even Tiny Tim beats the table with the handle of his knife, and feebly cries hurrah!

Bob. Beautiful! There never was such a goose. It's tender as a lamb, and cheap as dirt. The apple sauce and mashed potatoes are delicious – and now, love, for the pudding. The thought of it makes you nervous.

Mrs. C. Too nervous for witnesses. I must leave the room alone to take the pudding up and bring it in. (Exit l. h.

Bob. Awful moment! Suppose it should not be done enough? Suppose it should break in turning out? Suppose somebody should have got over the wall of the back yard and stolen it? (Gets up, and walks about, disturbed.) I could suppose all sorts of horrors. Ah! there's a great deal of steam – the pudding's out of the copper! A smell like a washing day – that's the cloth! A smell like an eating-house and a pastry cook's door to each other, with a laundress's next door to that – that's the pudding. (Mrs. Cratchit re-enters with pudding, which she places on table. Bob sits.)

Children. Hurrah!

Scr. Mrs. Cratchit looks flushed, but smiles proudly, like one who has achieved a triumph.

Bob. Mrs. Cratchit, I regard this pudding as the greatest success you have achieved since our marriage.

Mrs. C. Now that the weight's off my mind, I confess I had my doubts about it, and I don't think it at all a small pudding for so large a family.

Bob. It would be flat heresy to say so. A Cratchit would blush to hint at such a thing!

Scr. Their merry, cheerful dinner's ended, but not their sweet, enjoyment of the day. (Mrs. Cratchit, etc., clears the table. A jug and a glass or two are placed on it. Bob fills the glasses.)

Bob. A merry Christmas to us all, my dear – heaven bless us! (They drink and echo him —Tiny Tim is near his father, who presses his hand.)

Scr. Spirit tell me if Tiny Tim will live?

2nd Spirit. If the shadows I see remain unaltered by the future, the child will die.

Scr. No, no – say he will be spared.

2nd Spirit. If he be like to die – what then? He had better do it, and decrease the surplus population.

Scr. My own words!

2nd Spirit. Man – if man you be in heart, and 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? To hear the insect on the leaf pronouncing on the too much life among his hungry brothers in the dust.

Bob. My dear, 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!

Bob. My dear – the children – Christmas Day —

Mrs. C. It should be Christmas Day, I'm sure, on which one drinks the health of such an odious, stingy, hard, unfeeling man as Mr. Scrooge. You know what he is, Robert – no one better.

Bob. My dear – Christmas Day —

Mrs. C. I'll drink his health for your sake not for his. Long life to him! A merry Christmas and a happy new year! He'll be very merry and very happy, no doubt! (All drink.)

2nd Spirit. Your name alone has cast a gloom upon them. But they are happy – grateful – pleased with one another.

Scr. And they look happier yet in the bright sprinkling of thy torch, Spirit. (As he speaks the Stage becomes quite dark. A medium descends, which hides the group at table. Scrooge and the Spirit remaining in front.) We have seen much to-night, and visited many homes. Thou hast stood beside sick beds, and they were cheerful – by struggling men, and they were patient in their greater hope – by poverty, and it was rich. In almshouse, hospital and jail – in misery's every refuge, thou hast left thy blessing, and taught me thy precepts.

2nd Spirit. My life upon this globe is very brief – it ends to-night – at midnight – the time draws near.

Scr. Is that a claw protruding from your skirts?

2nd Spirit. Behold! (Two Children, wretched in appearance, appear from the foldings of his robe – they kneel, and cling to him.) Oh, man – look here!

Scr. Spirit, are they yours? (See Plate in Work, page 119.)

2nd Spirit. They are man's – and they cling to me, appealing from their fathers. This boy is Ignorance – this girl is Want. Beware all of their degree – but most of all beware this boy, for on his brow is written that which is doom, unless the writing be erased. Admit it for your factious purposes, and bide the end.

Scr. Have they no regular refuge or resource? (Scrooge shrinks abashed.)

2nd Spirit. Are there no prisons – no workhouses? Hark, 'tis midnight! I am of the past! (The Children exeunt – the Spirit disappears through trap – at the same moment the Ghost of Christmas to Come, shrouded in a deep black garment rises behind medium, which is worked off, discovering—

SCENE II.—A Street. Night

The Spirit advances slowly. Scrooge kneels on beholding it

Scr. This Spirit's mysterious presence fills me with a solemn dread! I am in the presence of the Ghost of Christmas yet to come! (The Spirit points onward.) You are about to show me shadows of things that have not happened, but will happen in the time before us? (The Spirit slightly inclines its head.) Though well used to ghostly company by this time. I fear this silent shape more than I did all the rest. Ghost of the future, will you not speak to me? (The Spirit's hand is still pointing onward.) Lead on, Spirit! (The Spirit moves a few steps on, then pauses. Scrooge follows. The Stage becomes light.)

Enter Cheerly and Heartly