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(CAROLERS, as merchants and shoppers, appear in the aisles from back of house, singing “I Saw Three Ships.” They make their way forward to stage over scene change. Curtain opens to street scene. There is a great happy bustle of chattering, greeting, a bit of good-natured market haggling. SCROOGE and SCP appear. As they make their way among the crowd, SCP sprinkles star dust on those who pass by.)


SCROOGE: Is there a peculiar flavor in what you sprinkle from your torch? SCP: There is, indeed. My own.

SCROOGE: Would it apply to any kind of dinner on this day? SCP: To any kindly given. To a poor one most.

SCROOGE: Why to a poor one most? SCP: Because it needs it most.

(Crowd exits, leaving SCROOGE and SCP alone on stage. Scrim down for scene change to Cratchit's.)


(Scrim up, lights up on the Cratchit family table.)



MRS. CRATCHIT: What has ever got your precious father then? And your brother, Tim? And Martha?

(Just then, Martha enters.)


MARTHA: Here I am, Mother!

MRS. CRATCHIT: Oh, Martha! How late you are! Well, never mind. You are home now! Sit down and warm yourself, dear.

BELINDA: Father will be home any minute. Hide, Martha, hide!

(MARTHA hides herself. CRATCHIT enters just then with TIM, holding his crutch. He is enthusiastically greeted by his family, kissed by his wife.)


CRATCHIT: But where's Martha?


MRS. CRATCHIT: She won't be coming for Christmas this year, I'm afraid. CRATCHIT: What? Not coming for Christmas!

MARTHA (popping out): Oh, here I am, Father!


(She embraces him. All cheer. CRATCHIT covers her in a thousand kisses.)


PETER: Come with me, Tim! (They exit.)

MRS. CRATCHIT: And did little Tim behave himself in church?


CRATCHIT: He did. As good as gold, and better. He's growing stronger every day, I just know it!


MRS. CRATCHIT: Martha, help me with the goose.

BELINDA: There's such a goose, Father, such as we've never had before!

(MRS. CRACHIT re-enters in high procession with a small goose on a platter, followed in parade by MARTHA and PETER. It is placed on

the table and all are seated.)


TIM: Such a goose! We got it for a good price, Father!...It wasn't expensive at all!


CRATCHIT (standing and raising his cup): A Merry Christmas to us all, my dears. God bless us! ALL: God bless us!

TINY TIM: God bless us, everyone!


(Lights dim on the table as dinner is served, under the following.)


SCROOGE: I had no idea Cratchit had a crippled son. SCP: I wonder why.

SCROOGE: Tell me, Spirit. Will the boy live?


SCP: I see a vacant seat at this table. The child will die.


SCROOGE (startled): No, no, that cannot be. Say he will be alive.


SCP: He will die. But what difference does it make? If he is likely to die, then let him die, and decrease the surplus population! But who are you to decide who shall live and who shall die?


CRATCHIT: And now, dear ones, a toast. I give you Mr. Scrooge, the founder of our feast.


MRS. CRATCHIT: Hmph! The founder of our feast, indeed!


CRATCHIT: My dear. The children. Christmas Day.


MRS. CRATCHIT (after a pause): Oh, alright, then. I'll drink his health, (raising her cup). Long life to him! A very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! I've no doubt he'll be very merry, indeed, and very happy!


CRATCHIT: To Mr. Scrooge.

MARTHA: To Mr. Scrooge. ALL: To Mr. Scrooge.

(All drink. SCP approaches and sprinkles star dust liberally on the Cratchit table. At which the family brightens up.)


CRATCHIT: I think it's time for a song. TINY TIM: A Christmas Carol!

MRS. CRATCHIT: What shall we sing?

(TINY TIM begins “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing!” All join in.) (Curtain.)







Date: 2015-12-24; view: 573

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