A POEM by Paul Curtis, BASED ON THE STORY by
Charles Dickens “A CHRISTMAS
CAROL”
VERSE 3 – OLD JOE’S
Scrooge had never been
here before and it didn’t suit
Although he knew it’s
situation, and its bad repute
The ways were foul and
narrow the houses squalid
The people wretched,
drunken, ugly and slipshod
Offensive smells were
disgorged from every alley
The whole quarter
reeked of crime, filth, and misery
Far in this den of
infamy was a rag and bone shop
To Scrooges surprise
it was here that he had to stop
The floor within the
shop had piles and heaps upon
Of rusty keys, nails,
chains, hinges, and refuse iron
Sitting in among what
he dealt in, by a charcoal stove
Was a seventy five
year old and gray-haired cove
Screened from the cold
air behind a curtain of rags
And smoked his pipe
amidst piles of clothes and bags
The Phantom entered
with Scrooge close by his side
Just as a woman with a
heavy bundle slunk inside
But she had scarcely
entered, when another woman
Similarly laden came
in closely followed by a man
It was clear that all
four were known to each other
And they stood
embarrassed eyeing one another
Then after quite a
short period of blank astonishment
They all three burst
into a laugh of nervous merriment
“Let the charwoman go
first!” cried the first woman
“The laundress second
and third the undertaker's man
After all Joe here’s a
chance that all three haven’t met”
She continued “All
together without us meaning it!”
“You couldn't have met
in a better place,” said old Joe
And removed his pipe
from his mouth and said, “Let’s go
Come into the parlor,
let me just shut the shop door
How it shrieks,
there’s nothing here that’s rusted more
And I'm sure there's
no bones here old as mine. Ha, ha!
We're suited to our
calling, we're well matched we are
Come into the parlor
then all it’s a cold, cold night
Come into the parlor.”
Joe said, “I’ll trim the light”
They all followed
after the old rag and bone broker
The old man then raked
the fire over with a poker
While he did this, the
woman who had already spoken
Threw her bundle on
the floor as a gesture or token
Then she sat down in a
flaunting manner on a chair
And then she gave her
two companions a defiant stare
“Well what odds then.
Mrs. Dilber.” said the woman.
“Everyone has a right
to look to themselves if they can.
He always did.” She
said in a tone of self-righteousness
“True, indeed, No man
more so” said the laundress
“Why then, who's to be
the wiser? And who knows?
We're not going to
pick holes in each other, I suppose?”
“No, indeed,” said
Mrs. Dilber and the man together
“We should hope not.”
Said the solemn old undertaker
“Very well, then!
Who's the worse, goodness knows
For the loss of these
things? Not a dead man, I suppose.”
“No, indeed,” said
Mrs. Dilber, laughing nervously anew
“If he wanted to keep
them after death, wicked old screw,”
Pursued the woman,
“Why wasn't he more natural in life?
If he had been, he'd
have had somebody in his strife
To look after him when
he was struck with death,
Instead of lying alone
gasping out his last breath”
“It's true it's a
judgment on him,” said Mrs. Dilber.
The woman replied “I
wish it had been a bit heavier
And it would have
been, you may depend upon it,
If I could have lain
my hands on more I will admit
Open the bundle, old
Joe, and let me know the value
You can speak plain
old Joe in front of those two
I'm not afraid to be
the first, nor for them to see
Come on then old Joe
open the bundle and tell me
We knew we were
helping ourselves before we met
I believe. It's no
sin. Open the bundle, Joe. Let’s see it”
But the gallantry of
her friends would not allow her
And the man stepped
forward and produced his plunder
It wasn’t much, a pair
of sleeve-buttons, a seal or two
A pencil case and a
brooch all of them no great value.
Old Joe severely
examined and appraised them all
Then chalked the sum he
was to give on the wall
“That's yours done,
and not another penny or so
Not if I was to be
boiled for not doing it.” Said Joe
“Who's next?” Mrs.
Dilber was next. Sheets and towel,
Sugar tongs, silver
tea spoons, a little wearing apparel,
Her account was stated
on the wall in the same way
“I always give too
much to ladies it’s the price I pay
It's my weakness and
that's the way I ruined myself,
That's yours said Joe
putting the goods on the shelf
If you asked me for a
penny more than I’ve writ down
I'll repent of being
so liberal and knock off half-a-crown.”
“And now undo my
bundle, Joe,” said the first woman.
Joe went down on his
knees difficult for an old man
And undid the bundle
revealing something uncertain
“What do you call
this?” said old Joe. “A Bed-curtain?”
“Ah”! She replied
leaning forward her face cracking
“Bed-curtains Joe”
continued the woman, laughing
“You don’t mean to say
you took them down, so
Rings and all with him
lying there?” asked old Joe
“Yes I do,” replied
the woman. “Why not though?”
“You were born to make
your fortune,” said Joe,
Joe laughed heartily
“and you will certainly do it.”
“I certainly shan't
hold my hand, when I can get
Anything in it by
reaching, for the sake of a so and so
Such a man as he was,
I promise you that old Joe,”
Returned the woman.
Joe examined the next item
“Don't drop oil upon
the blankets, don’t spoil them”
“His blankets?” asked
Joe. “Whose would they be?”
She replied “He won’t
get a chill without them, will he?”
“I hope he didn't die
of anything catching. Eh?”
Said old Joe, stopping
in his work, and looking at her
“Don't you be afraid
of that, if he did” said the woman.
“I wasn’t so fond of
him that I'd loiter with the man
And you may look
through that shirt till your eyes ache
You’ll find no hole,
nor threadbare place and no mistake
It's the very best he
had, and a fine one too as you see
And they'd have wasted
it, if it hadn't been for me.”
“And what do you call
wasting of it?” asked old Joe.
“Putting it on him to
be buried in, don’t you know”
She said with a laugh
“Somebody was fool enough
To put it on, but I
took it off and dressed him in rough
If calico ain't good
enough for the purpose of burying
It isn't good enough
for anything. It's quite as becoming”
She said, “He can't
look uglier than he did in that one.”
Scrooge listened to
this horrified at what they’d done
As they sat grouped
about their spoil, in the scanty light
He was filled with
detestation and disgust at the sight
“Ha, ha!” laughed the
same woman, as Joe paid out
Laughter still rang in
his ears as they went without
“Spirit,” said
Scrooge, shuddering from head to toe
“I see, the case of
this man might be my own I know”
Shaking with rage and
fear “I know” he began again
“My life tends that
way, now. Oh Merciful Heaven,”
“What is this?” he
said fearing that he was deranged
And he recoiled in
terror, for the scene had changed
VERSE 4 – RIP
They stood in a room
by a bare and un-curtained bed
On which, beneath a
ragged sheet lay something dead
The room was very,
very dark, too dark to see clear
But Scrooge glanced
round anyway driven by fear
A shaft of pale
moonlight fell straight upon the bed
The Phantom steady
hand was pointed to the head
Scrooge looked at the
phantom then again at the man
The plundered and
bereft, unwept and uncared for man
The sheet was so
loosely arranged that any movement
Would have exposed the
cadaver’s embodiment
Scrooge thought of how
easy it would be to do it
But was as powerless
to do so as to dismiss the spirit
Though he was willing
He could not expose the face
“Spirit,” Scrooge
said, “This is a cold fearful place.
I shall not leave this
lesson, trust me. Let us not linger.”
Still the Ghost
pointed to the head with a bony finger
“I understand you,”
Scrooge said “And I would do it,
If I only could. But I
have not the power to, Spirit.”
The phantom seemed to
look coldly down on him
“If there is any
person in the town, who has in them”
Scrooge said, “Any
emotion caused by this man's death,
Show them to me, I beg
you with my last breath.”
The Phantom spread its
dark robe out like a wing
And then a new scene
appeared on its withdrawing
VERSE 5 – A SHOW OF
EMOTION
The scene revealed was
a room illuminated by the day
Where a mother watched
her children quietly play
She was expecting some
one with anxious eagerness
For she began pacing
up and down in her distress
She started at every
sound and looked out the window
Then glanced at the
clock the tried in vain to sit and sew
She could hardly bear
the noise of her playing children
But the expected and
feared knock was heard then
Hurrying to the door
she found her husband there
A young man who’s depressed
face was full of care
But there was a
remarkable expression in it now
A kind of serious
delight about his eyes and brow
The feelings of
delight of which he felt ashamed
And he struggled hard
to repress the joy unnamed
He sat down near to
his wife beside the fireside
Her obvious anxiety
was quite impossible to hide
Then she asked him to
tell her the news that he had
When he didn’t answer
“Is it good.” she said, “or bad?”
“Bad,” he answered.
“We are quite ruined.” Said she
“No. Caroline” he
replied “There is hope yet you see”
“If he relents then
nothing is past hope,” Caroline said
“He is past
relenting,” said her husband. “He is dead.”
Caroline was mild and
pleasant still in her youth
An open young creature
whose face showed the truth
She was thankful in
her soul to hear it and was happy
She prayed forgiveness
next moment, and was sorry
“What the half-drunken
woman actually said to me
About him being ill
and not allowing me to see
When I tried to see
him and obtain a week's delay
And I told you last
night dear that I was sent away
I thought that it was
an excuse and she was lying
Well it was true but
he wasn’t only very ill, but dying”
“To whom will our debt
be transferred to though?”
She asked him and he
replied to her “I don't know.
But before that we
shall have the money for them
And if not we’ll not
find a successor as mean as him”
“Caroline we may sleep
with lighter hearts tonight
Yes for the future
does indeed look exceeding bright”
Even the children
became brighter with each breath
And it was a much
happier house for this man's death.
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