Part 6 (2/2)

_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. G.o.d bless us.

_All._ G.o.d bless us.

_Tiny T._ G.o.d 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 p.r.o.nouncing on the too much life among his hungry brothers of the dust!

_Mrs. C._ Now, Martha and Belinda, change the plates, while I bring the nuts, apples and oranges.

_Bob._ (_Rising and placing the punch-bowl on the table._) Here is what will remind us it is Christmas. (_Fills three tumblers and custard-cup without a handle, and pa.s.ses them to Mrs. C., Peter and Martha._) 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, and I hope he'd have a good appet.i.te for it.

_Bob._ My dear, the children! Christmas Day.

_Mrs. C._ It should be Christmas Day, I am sure, on which one drinks the health of such an odious, stingy, hard, unfeeling man as Mr. Scrooge.

You know he is, Robert. n.o.body knows it better than you, poor fellow.

_Bob._ My dear. Christmas Day.

_Mrs. C._ 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 very happy, I have no doubt.

_All._ A Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year.

_Scro._ Spirit, take me away. I see the very mention of my name casts a gloom on what, were it not for me, would be a very happy party.

_Spir._ Wait; they will soon put the memory of you aside, and will be ten times merrier than before, and Tiny Tim will sing.

_Scro._ No, no; take me hence.

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