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. )
STAVE THREE
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!
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. )
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.
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!