Old Scrooge: A Christmas Carol In Five Staves Part 7

(_As they retire toward the door, the spirit shakes his torch toward the party, which restores good humor._)

_Little C._ Oh! we forgot the pudding!

_All._ The pudding! the pudding! (_Laughter and confusion._)

SCENE III.--_A street. Mansion with lighted window, showing shadow of a group. Sounds of music inside._

_Enter Spirit and Scrooge_ L. _A lamp-lighter with torch and ladder_ R; _as he pa.s.ses them, the spirit waves his torch, and the lamp-lighter exits singing a carol. Enter two men, quarreling._

_First Man._ But, I know better, it is not so.

_Second Man._ It is so, and I will not submit to contradiction.

(_Spirit waves his torch over them._)

_First Man._ Well, I declare, here we are, old friends, quarreling on Christmas Day. It is a shame to quarrel on Christmas Day.

_Second Man._ So it is a shame to quarrel on this day. G.o.d love it, so it is; come, and if we are not merry for the rest of it, it shall not be my fault. [_Exeunt._]

_Scro._ Spirit, is there a peculiar flavor in what you sprinkle from your torch?

_Spir._ There is. My own.

_Scro._ I notice that you sprinkle it to restore good humor, and over dinners. Would it apply to any kind of dinner on this day?

_Spir._ To any kindly given. To a poor one most.

_Scro._ Why to a poor one most?

_Spir._ Because it needs it most.

_Enter Ignorance and Want; approaching the Spirit, they kneel at his feet. Scrooge starts back appalled._

_Spir._ Look here! oh, man, look here! Look! look down here. Behold, where graceful youth should have filled their features out and touched them with its freshest tints; a stale and shriveled hand, like that of age, has pinched and twisted them and pulled them into shreds. Where angels might have sat enthroned, devils lurk and glare out, menacing. No change, no degradation, no perversion of humanity, in any grade, through all the mysteries of wonderful creation, has monsters half so horrible and dread.

_Scro._ They are fine-looking children. Spirit, are they yours?

_Spir._ They are man's. And they cling to me, appealing from their fathers. This boy is Ignorance, this girl is Want. Beware them both, and all of their degree; but most of all, beware this boy, for on his brow I see that written which is _doom_, unless the writing be erased. Deny it, great city. Slander those who tell it ye. Admit it for your factious purposes, make it worse, and abide the end.

_Scro._ Have they no refuge or resource?

_Spir._ Are there no prisons? Are there no work-houses?

_Scro._ My very words, again.

_Spir._ Begone! hideous, wretched creatures, your habitation should not be in a Christian land. (_Ignorance and Want slouch off._) Let us proceed, time is pa.s.sing, and my life is hastening to an end.

_Scro._ Are spirit's lives so short?

_Spir._ My life on this globe is very brief. It ends to-night.

_Scro._ To-night?

_Spir._ To-night, at midnight. (_Exeunt._)

SCENE IV--_Drawing room. Mr. and Mrs. Fred Merry, Miss Julia Kemper, Miss Sarah Kemper, Mr. Thomas Topper, Mr. Henry Snapper, discovered seated around the dessert table. Servant serving coffee._

_All._ (_Laughing_) Ha, ha! ha, ha, ha, ha!

_Enter Spirit and Scrooge_, L.

_Fred._ He said Christmas was a humbug, as I live.

_All._ Ha, ha! Ha, ha, ha, ha!

_Fred._ He believed it, too.

_Mrs. M._ More shame for him, Fred!

_Fred._ He's a comical old fellow, that's the truth; and not so pleasant as he might be; however, his offenses carry their own punishment, and I have nothing to say against him.

_Mrs. M._ I'm sure he's very rich, Fred. At least you always tell _me_ so.

_Fred._ What of that, my dear. His wealth is of no use to him. He don't do any good with it. He don't make himself comfortable with it. He hasn't the satisfaction of thinking--ha, ha, ha, ha!--that he is ever going to benefit us with it.

_Mrs. M._ I have no patience with him.

_Julia._ Neither have I for such a stingy old wretch!

_Fred._ Oh, I have. I am sorry for him; I couldn't be angry with him if I tried. Who suffers by his ill whims? Himself, always. Here he takes it into his head to dislike us, and he won't come and dine with us. What's the consequence? He don't lose much of a dinner.

_Mrs. M._ Indeed, I think he loses a very good dinner.

_Sarah._ A much better one than he could have served up in his old dingy chambers.

_Fred._ Well, I'm very glad to hear it, because I haven't great faith in these young housekeepers. What do _you_ say, Topper?

_Topper._ A bachelor like myself is a wretched outcast, and has no right to express an opinion on such an important subject.

_Mrs. M._ Do go on, Fred. He never finishes what he begins to say. He is such a ridiculous fellow.

_Fred._ I was only going to say, that the consequence of our uncle taking a dislike to us, and not making merry with us, _is_, as I think, that he loses some pleasant moments, which could do him no harm. I am sure he loses pleasanter companions than he finds in his own thoughts, either in his moldy old office or his dusty chambers. I mean to give him the same chance every year, whether he likes it or not, for I pity him.

He may rail at Christmas till he dies, but he can't help thinking better of it--I defy him--if he finds me going there, in good temper, year after year, and saying, Uncle Scrooge, I wish you A Merry Christmas and A Happy New Year! If it only puts him in the vein to leave his poor clerk fifty pounds, _that's_ something; and I think I shook him yesterday.--Come, let us have some music. Here, Thomas, clear away.

[_All rise and go to the piano. Waiter clears table during the singing of a Christmas carol or any selected piece._]