A CHRISTMAS CAROL

By Charles Dickens

NARRATOR: Once upon a time, upon a Christmas eve old Scrooge sat busy in his counting-house.

NEPHEW: "A merry Christmas, uncle!"

SCROOGE: "Bah! . . . Humbug!"

NEPHEW: "Christmas a humbug, uncle! You don't mean that, I am sure?"

SCROOGE: "I do.”

NEPHEW: “Uncle!”

SCROOGE: “Nephew, keep Christmas in your own way, and let me keep it in mine.”

NEPHEW: “Keep it! But you don't keep it.”

SCROOGE: “Let me leave it alone, then. Much good may it do you! Much good it has ever done you!”

NEPHEW: “I have always thought of Christmas time as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time. I
believe that it has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, God bless it!"

SCROOGE: "Good afternoon."

NEPHEW: “I'll keep my Christmas humor to the last. So A Merry Christmas, uncle!"

SCROOGE: "GOOD Afternoon!"

NEPHEW: "And A Happy New-Year!"

SCROOGE: "GOOD AFTERNOON!!!"

NARRATOR: His nephew left the room without an angry word, but the clerk, in letting Scrooge's nephew out,
had let two other people in.

GENTLEMAN: "At this festive season of the year, Mr. Scrooge, we should make some slight provision for the
poor and destitute, who suffer greatly at the present time. What shall I put you down for?"

SCROOGE: "Nothing!"

GENTLEMAN: "You wish to be anonymous?"

SCROOGE: "I wish to be left alone. Since you ask me what I wish, gentlemen, that is my answer."

NARRATOR: The hour of shutting up the counting-house arrived.

Scrooge took his melancholy dinner in his usual melancholy tavern; and went home to bed.
Scrooge was not a man to be frightened by echoes. He fastened the door, and walked across the hall, and up the
stairs.

Up Scrooge went, not caring a button for its being very dark. Quite satisfied, he closed his door, and locked
himself in; he put on his dressing-gown and slippers and his nightcap, and sat down before the very low fire to
take his supper.

As he threw his head back in the chair, his glance happened upon a bell. It was with great astonishment, and
with a strange dread, that, as he looked, he saw this bell begin to swing. (ding, ding, ding) Soon it rang out
loudly, (Ding, DING, DING!)

This was succeeded by a clanking noise, (clank) deep down below, (clank) as if some person (clank) were
dragging a heavy chain (clank).

It came on through the heavy door, (CLANK!!!)

SCROOGE: "What do you want with me?"

MARLEY: "Much!"

SCROOGE: "Who are you?"

MARLEY: "Ask me who I was."

SCROOGE: "Who were you then?"

MARLEY: "In life I was your partner, Jacob Marley."

NARRATOR: The ghost sat down on the opposite side of the fireplace, as if he were quite used to it.

MARLEY: "You don't believe in me."

SCROOGE: "I don't."

MARLEY: "Why do you doubt your senses?"

SCROOGE: "Because a little thing affects them. You may be an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb
of cheese, a fragment of an underdone potato."

NARRATOR: . . the spirit raised a frightful cry . . .

MARLEY: [HOWL] (OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!)

SCROOGE: "Mercy! Dreadful apparition, why do you trouble me? Why do spirits walk the earth, and why do they
come to me?"
MARLEY: "I cannot rest, I cannot stay, I cannot linger anywhere. My spirit never walked beyond our counting-
house -- mark me!”

NARRATOR: Scrooge was very much dismayed to hear the spectre going on at this rate, and began to quake
exceedingly.

MARLEY: "I am here to-night to warn you that you have yet a chance and hope of escaping my fate. You will be
haunted by Three Spirits. Expect the first tomorrow night, when the bell tolls One. Expect the second on the
next night at the same hour. The third, upon the next night, when the last stroke of Twelve has ceased to
vibrate. Look to see me no more.”

NARRATOR
Scrooge went straight to bed, without undressing, and fell asleep on the instant. [MAKE SNORING SOUNDS AS IF
ASLEEP]

(All children now sing . . .)

Deck the halls with boughs of holly, Fa la la la la, la la la la.
'Tis the season to be jolly, Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Don we now our gay apparel, Fa la la, la la la, la la la.
Troll the ancient Yule tide carol, Fa la la la la, la la la la.

ACT TWO.

NARRATOR: WHEN Scrooge awoke, the church clock tolled ONE.

SCROOGE: "Are you the Spirit, sir, whose coming was foretold to me?"

PAST: "I am!"

SCROOGE: "Who and what are you?"

PAST: "I am the Ghost of Christmas Past.

NARRATOR: As the words were spoken, they passed through the wall, and stood in the busy thoroughfares of a
city. It was made plain enough by the dressing of the shops that here, too, it was Christmas time. The Ghost
stopped at a certain warehouse door, and asked Scrooge if he knew it.

SCROOGE: "Know it! I apprenticed here!"

NARRATOR: They went in. At sight of an old gentleman in a Welsh wig, sitting behind such a high desk that, if he
had been two inches taller, he must have knocked his head against the ceiling, Scrooge cried in great
excitement:

SCROOGE: "Why, it's old Fezziwig! Bless his heart, it's Fezziwig, alive again!"

FEZZIWIG: "Yo ho, there! Ebenezer! Dick!"

NARRATOR: A living and moving picture of Scrooge's former self, a young man, came briskly in, accompanied by
his fellow-prentice.

FEZZIWIG: "Yo ho, my boys!" said Fezziwig. "No more work to-night. Christmas eve, Dick. Christmas, Ebenezer!
Let's have the shutters up, before a man can say Jack Robinson! Clear away, my lads, and let's have lots of room
here!"

PAST: "A small matter to make these silly folks so full of gratitude. He has spent but a few pounds of your
money, -- three or four perhaps. Is that so much that he deserves this praise?"

SCROOGE: "It isn't that, Spirit. He has the power to render us happy or unhappy; to make our service a pleasure
or a toil. Say that his power lies in words and looks; in things impossible to add and count 'em up: what then?
The happiness he gives is quite as great as if it cost a fortune.
Spirit! remove me from this place. Haunt me no longer!"

NARRATOR: As he struggled with the Spirit he was conscious of being exhausted, and overcome by an
irresistible drowsiness; and, further, of being in his own bed- room. He had barely time to reel to bed before he
sank into a heavy sleep. [MAKE SNORING SOUNDS AS IF ASLEEP]

(All children now sing . . . )

It came upon the midnight clear, That glorious song of old,
From angels bending near the earth, To touch their harps of gold:
"Peace on the earth, goodwill to men,
From heaven's all-gracious King."
The world in solemn stillness lay, To hear the angels sing.

ACT THREE.

NARRATOR: SCROOGE awoke in his bedroom.

Upon a couch sat a Giant glorious to see; who bore a glowing torch.

PRESENT: "Come in, -- come in! and know me better, man! I am the Ghost of Christmas Present. Look upon me!
You have never seen the like of me before! Touch my robe!"

NARRATOR
Scrooge did as he was told, and held it fast. The room and its contents all vanished instantly, and they stood in
the city streets upon a snowy Christmas morning. Scrooge and the Ghost passed on, invisible, straight to
Scrooge's clerk's; and on the threshold of the door the Spirit smiled, and stopped to bless Bob Cratchit's dwelling
with the sprinklings of his torch. Then up rose Mrs. Cratchit . . .

MRS. CRATCHIT: "What has ever got your precious father then? And your brother Tiny Tim!”

PETER: "No, no! There's father coming . . ."

MRS. CRATCHIT: "And how did little Tim behave?"

BOB CRATCHIT: "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 the
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."

NARRATOR: Peter and the two young Cratchits went to fetch the goose, with which they soon returned in high
procession.

TINY TIM: “Hurrah!'

NARRATOR: Mrs. Cratchit left the room alone, to take the pudding up, and bring it in.

Mrs. Cratchit entered, -- smiling proudly, – with the pudding, like a speckled cannon-ball, so hard and firm,
blazing in half of half of a quartern of ignited brandy, and bedight with Christmas holly stuck into the top.

BOB CRATCHIT: “O, a wonderful pudding!”

NARRATOR: At last the dinner was all done, the cloth was cleared, the hearth swept, and the fire made up. Then
all the Cratchit family drew round the hearth. They were happy, grateful, pleased with one another, and
contented with the time; Scrooge had his eye upon them, and especially on Tiny Tim, until the last.

But the whole scene passed off, and he and the Spirit were again upon their travels. Much they saw, and far they
went, and many homes they visited, but always with a happy end. Suddenly, as they stood together in an open
place, the bell struck (BONG! BONG! BONG! BONG! BONG! BONG! BONG! BONG! BONG! BONG! BONG! BONG!)
twelve.

Scrooge looked about him for the Ghost, and saw it no more. AS the last stroke ceased to vibrate, he
remembered the prediction of old Jacob Marley, and, lifting up his eyes, beheld a solemn Phantom, draped and
hooded, coming like a mist along the ground towards him.

ACT FOUR.

SCROOGE: “Ghost of the Future! I fear you more than any spectre I have seen. Will you not speak to me?"

NARRATOR: It gave him no reply. The hand was pointed straight before them.

SCROOGE: "Lead on! Lead on! The night is waning fast, and it is precious time to me, I know. Lead on, Spirit!"

NARRATOR: They scarcely seemed to enter the city; for the city rather seemed to spring up about them. But
there they were in the heart of it amongst the merchants.
The Spirit stopped beside one little knot of business men. Observing that the hand was pointed to them, Scrooge
advanced to listen to their talk.

MAN: "I don't know much about it either way. I only know he's dead."
GENTLEMAN: "When did he die?"

MAN: "Last night, I believe."

GENTLEMAN: "What has he done with his money?"

MAN: "I haven't heard, Company, perhaps. He hasn't left it to me. That's all I know.”

NARRATOR: The scene had changed, and now he almost touched a bare, uncurtained bed. A pale light, rising in
the outer air, fell straight upon this bed; and on it, unwatched, unwept, uncared for, was the body of this
unknown man.

SCROOGE: "Spirit, let me see some tenderness connected with a death, or this dark chamber, Spirit, will be
forever present to me."

NARRATOR: The Ghost conducted him to poor Bob Cratchit's house, and found the mother and the children
seated round the fire.

Quiet. Very quiet. The noisy little Cratchits were as still as statues in one corner, and sat looking up at Peter, who
had a book before him. The mother and her daughters were engaged in needle-work. But surely they were very
quiet!

The mother laid her work upon the table, and put her hand up to her face.

MRS. CRATCHIT: "The color hurts my eyes. They're better now again. 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."

PETER: "Past it rather. But I think he has walked a little slower than he used these few last evenings, Mother."

MRS. CRATCHIT: "I have known him walk with -- I have 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. And
there is your father at the door!"

NARRATOR: She hurried out to meet him; and Bob came in. His tea was ready for him, and they all tried who
should help him to it most. Then the two young Cratchits got upon his knees and laid, each child, a little cheek
against his face, as if they said, "Don't mind it, father. Don't be grieved!"
Bob was very cheerful with them, and spoke pleasantly to all the family. He looked at the work upon the table,
and praised Mrs. Cratchit and the girls.

MRS. CRATCHIT: "You went to-day, then, Robert?"

BOB CRATCHIT: "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!"

SCROOGE: "Spectre, something informs me that our parting moment is at hand. I know it, but I know not how.
Tell me what man that was, with the covered face, whom we saw lying dead?"
NARRATOR: The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come conveyed him to a dismal, wretched, ruinous churchyard.

The Spirit stood among the graves, and pointed down to One. Scrooge crept towards it, trembling as he went;
and, following the finger, read upon the stone of the neglected grave his own name, -- EBENEZER SCROOGE.

SCROOGE: "Am I that man who lay upon the bed? No, Spirit! O no, no! Spirit! hear me! IamnotthemanIwas.
IwillnotbethemanImusthavebeen. Why show me this, if I am past all hope? Assure me that I yet may change
these shadows you have shown me by an altered life. I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the
year. O, tell me I may sponge away the writing on this stone!"

NARRATOR: Holding up his hands in one last prayer to have his fate reversed, he saw an alteration in the
Phantom's hood and dress. It shrunk, collapsed, and dwindled down into a bedpost.

Yes, and the bedpost was his own. The bed was his own, the room was his own. Best and happiest of all, the
Time before him was his own, to make amends in! He was checked in his transports by the churches ringing out
the lustiest peals he had ever heard. (BONG! ABONG!, ABONG!, ABONG!. ABONG!, ABONG!!, ABONG!!!)
Running to the window, he opened it, and put out his head. No fog, no mist, no night; clear, bright, stirring,
golden day.

SCROOGE: "What's to-day?"

NARRATOR: . . . cried Scrooge, calling downward to a boy in Sunday clothes..

BOY: "EH?"

SCROOGE: "What's to-day, my fine fellow?"

BOY: "To-day! Why, CHRISTMAS DAY."

SCROOGE: "It's Christmas day! I haven't missed it. Hallo, my fine fellow!"

BOY: "Hallo!"

SCROOGE: "Do you know the Poulterer's, in the next street but one, at the corner?"

BOY: "I should hope I did."

SCROOGE: "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?"

BOY: "What, the one as big as me?"

SCROOGE: "What a delightful boy! It's a pleasure to talk to him. Yes, my buck!"

BOY: "It's hanging there now."

SCROOGE: "Is it? Go and buy it."

BOY: "Walk-ER!"

SCROOGE: "No, no, I am in earnest. Go and buy it, and tell 'em to bring it here, that I may give them the
direction 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 give you half a crown!"

NARRATOR: The boy was off like a shot.

SCROOGE: "I'll send it to Bob Cratchit's! He sha'n't know who sends it. It's twice the size of Tiny Tim.”

NARRATOR: Scrooge dressed himself “all in his best,” and at last got out into the streets. The people were by
this time pouring forth, as he had seen them with the Ghost of Christmas Present: and, walking with his hands
behind him, Scrooge regarded every one with a delightful smile. He looked so irresistibly pleasant, in a word,
that three or four good-humored fellows said . . .

THREE OR FOUR GOOD-HUMORED FELLOWS

“Good morning, sir! A merry Christmas to you!”

NARRATOR: He was early at the office next morning. If he could only be there first, and catch Bob Cratchit
coming late!

The clock struck nine. No Bob. A quarter past. No Bob. Bob was full eighteen minutes and a half behind his time.
Bob's hat was off, before he opened the door. He was on his stool in a jiffy; driving away with his pen, as if he
were trying to overtake nine o'clock.

SCROOGE: "Hallo! What do you mean by coming here at this time of day?"

BOB CRATCHIT: "I am very sorry, sir. I am behind my time."

SCROOGE: "You are? Yes. I think you are. Step this way, if you please. Now, I tell you what my friend. I am not
going to stand for this sort of thing any longer. And therefore, I am about to raise your salary!”

SCROOGE: "A merry Christmas, Bob!" said Scrooge, as he clapped him on the back. "A merrier Christmas, Bob,
my good fellow, than I have given you for many a year! I'll raise your salary, and endeavor to assist your
struggling family.

NARRATOR: Scrooge was better than his word. He did it all, and infinitely more; and to Tiny Tim, who did NOT
die, he was a second father. He became as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a man as the good old
city knew, or any other good old city, town, or borough in the good old world. Some people laughed to see the
alteration in him; but his own heart laughed, and that was quite enough for him. And it was always said of him,
that he knew how to keep Christmas well. May that be truly said of us, and all of us.
And so, as Tiny Tim observed . . .

TINY TIM: . . . God Bless Us, Every One!

End
(And now everybody sings . . .)