Chapter XIII: Stave II

_Same scene as Stave I. Lights half up, but candles are not burning. Rear curtains closed._ SCROOGE _is discovered asleep at his desk. The_ SPIRIT _of_ CHRISTMAS PRESENT _sits at R., a red light shining on him. He carries a torch in which a red light burns. The bells toll six times._ SCROOGE _suddenly awakens and gazes at_ SECOND SPIRIT.

SECOND SPIRIT. Arise, arise, Ebenezer Scrooge, and learn to know me better.

SCROOGE (_frightened_). I don't believe I ever met you before.

SECOND SPIRIT. Probably not. I am the Spirit of Christmas. The Ghost of Christmas Present.

SCROOGE. The Ghost of Christmas Present?

SECOND SPIRIT. I am a brother of the little Spirit of Christmas Past who visited you before.

SCROOGE. And are you going to show me all my past misdeeds?

SECOND SPIRIT. Not me. I am going to show you your present misdeeds. It is my mission to show you the love and comradeship of Christmas of today. I travel among the common people. My torch is their benediction. If there is a slight quarrel or any misunderstandings on Christmas Day, I simply throw on them the light of my torch. And then they say it is a shame to quarrel on Christmas Day--the Day of Peace and Love. And so it is! God bless it! God bless Christmas Day!

SCROOGE. And what do you intend to show me?

SECOND SPIRIT. I intend to show you the House of Happiness.

SCROOGE. Is it a wonderful palace of gold?

SECOND SPIRIT. It is a humble little kitchen. In fact, the kitchen of your poor clerk, Bob Cratchit. Bob, with his fifteen shillings a week--with his wife and six children--with his shabby clothes and his humble, shabby manners--Bob, with his little four-roomed house, and his struggle to keep the wolf from the door. The Ghost of the Christmas Present blesses his abode. Behold!

_Bright, cheerful music._ SCROOGE _and_ SECOND SPIRIT _cross to R. The rear curtains open, showing the interior of the Cratchit kitchen. Everything neat, but showing extreme poverty. Fireplace C. rear. Kettle boiling on crane. Table down L.C. with red cloth and lighted lamp. Cupboard up R. Old chairs around stage. Several pots of bright flowers in evidence. A bird in a cage is singing over the mantel._ PETER _discovered watching the potatoes boiling in the kettle at the fireplace. Enter_ MRS. CRATCHIT _and_ BELINDA _from L._

MRS. CRATCHIT. Hurry, Belinda; we must set the table right away. How's the taters, Peter?

PETER (_peeks in the kettle_). Boiling, mammy, boiling.

MRS. CRATCHIT. Here, carry the lamp over there.

BELINDA. Yes, ma'am. (_Puts lamp on cupboard._)

MRS. CRATCHIT. And now where's the white table cloth?

BELINDA (_getting it from cupboard_). Here it is, mammy. (_They place castor, plates, knives, etc., on table during the following scene._)

MRS. CRATCHIT. Whatever has got your precious father, I wonder? He and Tiny Tim's been at the church these three hours.

_Enter_ BOB _and_ BETTY _from R. They run down and kiss_ MRS. CRATCHIT.

BOB. Oh, mumsy, we saw the goose, we did. We peeked in through the bakery window and we saw the goose, we did.

BETTY. And we smelled him, too. And we went inside, we did. And the baker asked us what was wantin'. And Bob said he wanted to know which goose was the Cratchit goose.

BOB. And he pointed to the very biggest one, mumsy. Didn't he, Betty?

BETTY. And it was all nice and browny on top. And he said it 'ud be ready in 'bout twenty minutes. Didn't he, Bob?

BOB. And it was the best looking goose I ever saw, it was. It just made me hungry to see him and to smell him baking.

BETTY. And it had sage and onion stuffing, mumsy, didn't it, Bob?

MRS. CRATCHIT. I'm sure there never was such a goose before, and I'm sure there never will be such a goose again. How's the 'taters, Peter?

PETER (_looks in kettle_). Boilin', mammy, boilin'.

BOB. Oh, Peter's got on pa's shirt collar, he has. Peter's got on pa's shirt collar.

PETER. If I didn't have to mind these 'taters, I'd show you!

MRS. CRATCHIT. I can't think what's keeping your father, and your brother Tiny Tim. And Martha wasn't as late last Christmas Day by half an hour.

_Enter_ MARTHA _from R._

MARTHA. Here's Martha, mumsy.

BOB (_dragging her down to Mrs. Cratchit_). Here's Martha, mumsy.

BETTY. Oh, Martha, there's such a goose! Isn't there, Bob?

MRS. CRATCHIT (_hugging and kissing_ MARTHA). Why, bless your heart alive, my dear, how late you are! (_Takes off her bonnet and shawl._)

MARTHA. We'd a deal of work to finish up last night. I was on my feet all day. Oh, why won't people learn to do their Christmas shopping early. If they'd only stop to give a moment's thought to the poor clerks.

MRS. CRATCHIT. There, there, my dear, sit ye down. Here's the big chair, Martha. (BOB _has been sitting in the big chair at R., but_ MRS. CRATCHIT _simply turns it forward, letting_ BOB _slip to the floor, and seats_ MARTHA _therein._) Well, never mind, as long as you're home at last, Martha. Draw your chair up to the fire and have a warm. God bless you. How's the 'taters, Pete?

PETER (_looking in kettle_). Boilin', mammy, boilin'.

MARTHA (_sitting in front of the fire_). Oh, mumsy, ain't this Heavenly? Be it ever so humble there's no place like home.

BETTY (_at door R._). Father's coming, father's coming.

BOB. Hide yourself, Martha. Here, here. (_Pulls her to L._)

BETTY (_helping her_). Hurry up. Hide, hide! (_Exit_ MARTHA _at L._)

_Bright music. Enter_ CRATCHIT _carrying_ TINY TIM _on his shoulder._ TINY TIM _carries a little crutch._

CRATCHIT (_down C._). Why, where's our Martha?

MRS. CRATCHIT (_down L._). Not coming.

CRATCHIT. Not coming? Not coming--on Christmas Day?

MARTHA (_rushing in from L._). No, father, it's only a joke. Here I am, father, here I am. (_Rushes into his arms._)

BETTY (_taking Tiny Tim_). Come on, Tiny Tim, out to the wash-house. We've got something to show you, we have. Ain't we, Bob?

BOB. You bet we have, Tiny Tim. Come and hear the Christmas pudding singing in the wash boiler. Come on! (_Exit_ BOB, _followed by_ BETTY _and_ TINY TIM, _at L._)

MRS. CRATCHIT (_taking Cratchit's hat and muffler and hanging them up_). And how did Tiny Tim behave in the church, father?

CRATCHIT. As good as gold and better. Somehow he gets thoughtful, sitting by himself so much, and thinks the strangest things you ever heard. (_Sits at L. surrounded by all._) 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 it was who made lame beggars walk and blind men see. (_Trembling voice._) Little Tim is growing stronger and more hearty every day.

_Enter_ TINY TIM _from L._

TIM. I heard the pudding singing a song in the wash boiler, I did.

MRS. CRATCHIT. Everything is ready. Bob, you and Betty run across the street to the baker's and fetch the goose.

BOB. Come on, Betty. (_Runs out R. with_ BETTY.)

MRS. CRATCHIT. I've got the gravy to heat, right away. Peter, mash the potatoes. Belinda, sweeten up the apple sauce! Martha, the hot plates! (_All bustle around, setting table._ CRATCHIT _with_ TIM, _on his knee, sit before the fire._)

BELINDA. We haven't got enough chairs, mumsy.

CRATCHIT. This young shaver can sit on my knee.

MRS. CRATCHIT. Peter, set up the chairs.

_Enter_ BOB _and_ BETTY _from R. bearing a roast goose in a baking pan._

BOB. Here it is, mumsy.

BETTY. Here's the goose. (MRS. CRATCHIT _puts it on plate on table._)

BELINDA. What a wonderful goose.

MARTHA. And how big it is! (_All take seats._)

BOB. And don't it smell good!

BETTY. Hurray for the Christmas goose.

TIM. Hurray! (CRATCHIT _makes signal, all bend heads for a silent grace._)

CRATCHIT (_after pronounced pause_). And God bless Christmas Day.

TIM. God bless us all, every one. (CRATCHIT _and_ MRS. CRATCHIT _serve the meal. All eat._)

CRATCHIT. I've got a situation in my eye for Master Peter.

PETER. A situation for me?

CRATCHIT. Yes, sir, for you. Full five-and-sixpence weekly.

ALL. Oh, Peter!

BOB. Peter will be a man of business, won't you, Peter?

PETER. What'll I do with all that money?

CRATCHIT. Invest it, invest it, my lad. It's a bewildering income.

MARTHA. Who do you think was in the shop yesterday? You'll never guess. A countess and a real lord.

ALL. Martha!

MARTHA. A real, live lord, as fine as silk and just about as tall as Peter here.

PETER (_pulls his collar up high and tosses his head_). As big as me? (WAITS _outside sing two verses of Christmas Carol, as before._)

CRATCHIT (_goes to door_). Here's a sixpence for you, and God bless you all.

WAITS (_outside_). Thankee, sir. Merry Christmas, sir.

BELINDA. And now the pudding.

BETTY. Oh, suppose it should break in turning it out.

MARTHA. Or suppose it isn't done enough.

BOB. Suppose somebody should have got over the wall of the backyard and stolen it while we were in here eating the goose.

MRS. CRATCHIT. Nonsense. I'll get the Christmas pudding. (_Exits._)

BOB (_very much excited_). Oh, I can smell it, I can. I smell the pudding.

_Enter_ MRS. CRATCHIT _bearing dish of pudding, decked with holly, and blazing._

CRATCHIT. Oh, it's a wonder, mother, it's a wonder.

BETTY. It looks like a little speckled cannon-ball.

BOB. But just wait till you taste it; that's all. (_It is served._)

CRATCHIT (_rises_). I have a toast. Mr. Scrooge! I'll give you Mr. Scrooge, the founder of the feast.

MRS. CRATCHIT (_indignantly_). 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.

CRATCHIT (_remonstrating gently_). My dear, the children! Christmas Day.

MRS. CRATCHIT. He's an odious, stingy, hard, unfeeling man. You know he is, Robert. Nobody knows it better than you do.

CRATCHIT (_mildly_). My dear, Christmas Day!

MRS. CRATCHIT. Then 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 happy, I've no doubt.

CRATCHIT. And now a Merry Christmas to us all, my dears. God bless us.

ALL (_rising_). A very Merry Christmas.

TIM. And God bless us every one!

(_The tableau curtains are slowly drawn._)

SCROOGE. Spirit, tell me if Tiny Tim will live.

SECOND SPIRIT. I see a vacant seat in the poor chimney-corner, and a little crutch without an owner. If these shadows remained unaltered by the future, the child will die.

SCROOGE. No, no, kind Spirit! Say he will be spared.

SECOND SPIRIT. If he be like to die, he had better do it, and decrease the surplus population. Your very words, Scrooge. Decrease the surplus population. (SCROOGE _hangs his head in shame._) Man, if man you be in heart, forbear that wicked cant. Will you decide what men shall live, and what men shall die? It may be that in the sight of Heaven you are more worthless and less fit to live than millions like this poor man's child.

SCROOGE. Forgive me, forgive me.

SECOND SPIRIT. You have seen the spirit of Christmas bless this poor dwelling. They were not a handsome family, they were not well dressed; their clothes were scanty and their shoes far from being water-proof--but they were happy, grateful, pleased with one another, and contented with the Christmas time. They are my children. Have you learned your lesson? (_Chimes ring._) My hour is spent.

SCROOGE. I have learned the lesson, Spirit of Christmas. I have seen happiness, in spite of poverty. A happiness that all my gold cannot buy. I have seen the Christmas spirit. Forgive me that I ever dared to utter a word against Christmas. Forgive me! Forgive me! (_The chimes continue ringing, the_ SPIRIT _glides out._ SCROOGE _kneels in prayer, muttering, "Forgive me! Forgive me!"_)

CURTAIN.