SCROOGE and MARLEY (Deceased) – STAVE 3 – THE SECOND OF THE THREE SPIRITS – Verses 6 to 7

 

A POEM by Paul Curtis, BASED ON THE STORY by

Charles Dickens “A CHRISTMAS CAROL”

 

VERSE 6 – A VISIT TO FRED’S

 

They stood outside a house were laughter emanated

Then he and the spirit into the house they permeated

It was a bright, gay, gleaming room that met their view

To his surprise the laughter came from his nephew 

Scrooge stood with the Spirit who was smiling happily

Looking at Scrooge’s nephew with approving affability

“Ha, ha!” laughed Scrooge's nephew. “Ha, ha, ha!”

It would be hard to find a man to laugh heartier

If a man more blessed in a laugh than his nephew

Existed then Scrooge would want to know him too

His head rolled and he shook his ample proportions

And twisted his face into extravagant contortions

Scrooge's niece, by marriage, laughed as heartily as he

And their assembled friends also roared out lustily

“Ha, ha, ha, ha!” “He said that,” cried his nephew

“Christmas was a humbug, as I live! He believed it too.”

“More shame for him, Fred.” said his wife indignantly

Scrooge forgave her, as she was exceedingly pretty 

With a dimpled peaches and cream complexion

And a smile that gave her the sunniest disposition

“He's a comical old fellow,” said Fred affectionately 

“That’s the truth: and not as pleasant as he might be.

However, his offenses carry their own punishment,

And I have nothing to say against him in testament”

Then his wife said “I'm sure he is very rich, Fred,”

“At least you always tell me that is so.” She hinted

Fred said to her in reply “What of that, my dear?”

“His wealth is of absolutely no use to him at all I fear”

Fred continued “He doesn't do any good with it.

And he doesn't make himself comfortable with it.

He hasn't even the satisfaction of thinking so far

That he is ever going to benefit us with it” ha, ha, ha!

“I have no patience with him,” Scrooges niece said

Her sisters, and the ladies, expressed the same to Fred

“Oh, I have” Fred said to everyone with some pride

I’m sorry for him I couldn't be angry with him if I tried

After all who is it who really suffers by his ill whim?”

Answering his own question Fred said “Always him”

Here, Uncle Scrooge takes it into his head to dislike us,

And he won't come and dine with us every Christmas.

And the result? He misses out on a moderate dinner”

Fred said to the room smiling broadly like a sinner 

“I think he loses out on a very good dinner, indeed”

Interrupted his wife and everyone in the room agreed

“Well. I'm very glad to hear it,” he said of his slurs

“Because I lack faith in these young housekeepers”

Pausing for a hearty laugh “What do you say, Topper?”

Topper clearly had his eye on the little plump sister

He answered what a wretched outcast was a bachelor 

With no right to an opinion on the subject set before 

His obvious admiration went from her hair to her boots

Where upon the plump niece blushed to her roots

“Do go on, Fred,” his wife said with hands clapping

Scrooge's nephew reveled in another fit of laughing

He stifled the laugh and said, “I was only going to say 

That the consequence of his taking dislike to us this way

And not making merry with us, is, that he loses many

Pleasant moments, which could do him no harm surely.

Losing pleasanter companions than he can find ever

In his thoughts, either in his office or his chamber

So I mean to give him the same chance every year,

Whether he likes it or not, for I pity my uncle dear.

He may rail at Christmas all he likes until he dies

But year after year I will continue until he complies”

The festivities continued with the happy company

Merriment abounded and the bottle passed joyously

After tea they had music with songs about the piano

Fred wife played well on the harp tunes from long ago

With the music Scrooge recalled what he had seen

What the Ghost had shown him and where he’d been

It all came upon his mind all what had gone before

And with the gay music he softened more and more

But they didn't devote the whole evening to music

Topper was encouraged to perform a magic trick

Then they played parlor games for amusement

First blind man’s bluff caused such great merriment

With topper clearly cheating as pursued high and low

The plump sister catching her beneath the mistletoe

Blind-man’s buff was not the game for Scrooges niece

Who was comfortably in a corner safe and in peace

With footstool and large comfy chair in a snug corner

Where the Ghost and Scrooge were close behind her

But she however excelled when she joined in forfeits

And warmed Scrooges heart and raised his spirits

She beat them all hollow from her large comfy chair

And likewise at the game of How, When, and Where

There might have been twenty people there present

Young and old, but they all joined in the merriment

Even Scrooge, who forgot he wasn’t there at the party

And shouted the answers ever more loud and hearty

But despite Scrooge quite often getting the answers

Often very loudly his voice made no sound in their ears

This didn’t bother him and he didn’t think it to be rude

The Ghost was very pleased to find him in this mood

Scrooge intimated that he would be broken hearted

If he were not allowed to stay until the guests departed

But this the Spirit told Scrooge could not be done

“One more game,” said Scrooge. “Please Spirit, only one.”

So they stayed for one more Game called Yes and No

And when the game was over it was time for them to go

Before Scrooges eyes the room before him unravels

And he and the Spirit were again upon their travels.

 

VERSE 7 – ABROAD AGAIN

 

Much they saw, and far they went, people to attend

Many homes they visited, but always a happy end

The Spirit stood by sick beds, and they were cheerful

Comforting the old and frail and those who were fearful

On foreign lands, and at home; beside struggling men,

Those patient in their hope; by poverty, and rich again

In almshouse, hospital, workhouse treadmill and jail

In misery's every refuge where people try and fail

Where vain man in his little brief authority no doubt

Had not made fast the door and barred the Spirit out

He left his blessing, and taught Scrooge his precepts.

And not lost on Scrooge were the spirits concepts

It was a long night, if only a night which he doubted

Scrooge had now seen his error and his heart shouted

It was strange, that while Scrooge appeared unaltered

The Ghost grew older, clearly and his voice faltered.

Scrooge had seen this change, but never spoke of it,

Until leaving a children's party he addressed the spirit

“Are spirits' lives so short?” he asked gravely his host

“My life on this globe, is very brief,” replied the Ghost

“It ends to-night.” It said and Scrooge replied “To-night!”

“My time upon this earth ends To-night at midnight

The time draws near.” He said neath the clock tower

“Hark!” and the chimes rang a quarter to the hour

“Forgive me for asking” said Scrooge in puzzlement

He was looking intently at the spirits long garment

“But I see something strange down there on the floor

Protruding from your skirts. Is it a foot or a claw?”

“It might be a claw, for all the flesh there is on it,”

Was its sorrowful reply. “Look here.” Said the spirit

From the folds of its robe, it brought two creatures

Children, wretched, abject, with frightful features

They knelt down at its feet, and clung on in fear

“Oh, Man, look here! Look, look, down here!”

Exclaimed the Ghost. To Scrooge who was nervous

It was a boy and girl though it was not obvious

“Spirit, are they yours?” Scrooge could say no more.

“They are Man's,” It said looking at them on the floor

“Appealing from their fathers they cling to me there

This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want. So beware”

His voice was grave and solemn and held no joy

“Beware them both, but most of all beware this boy

For on his brow I see that the word doom is written

Unless the writing be erased beware these children”

The spirit cried stretching its hand toward the city

“If you deny it! Or slander those who tell it to ye.

Admit it for your factious purposes, or defend

And then make it worse. And you will abide the end.”

“Have they no refuge or resource?” Scrooge cried.

“Are there no prisons?” ironically the Spirit replied,

“Are there no workhouses?” for the very last time

Using his own words on him at the midnight chime

At the stroke of the bell Scrooge looked all about

But the ghost was gone he was alone without doubt

As the last stroke ceased, he lifted up his eyes to see

He suddenly remembered the prediction of Marley

And beheld a solemn draped and hooded apparition

Coming, like a mist along the ground, in his direction

SCROOGE and MARLEY (Deceased) – STAVE 3 – THE SECOND OF THE THREE SPIRITS – Verses 4 to 5

A POEM by Paul Curtis, BASED ON THE STORY by

Charles Dickens “A CHRISTMAS CAROL”

 

VERSE 4 – IN CAMDEN TOWN

 

They stood in Camden Town outside a poor man’s door

It was the home of Bob Cratchit’s they stood before

The spirit indicated to Scrooge that they would enter

Scrooge held the spirits robe with bony hand and finger

The Spirit stopped on the threshold of the door smiling

With a sprinkle from his torch he blessed Bob’s dwelling

Just think, a fifteen bob a week clerk of no consequence

Has the Ghost of Christmas Present bless his residence

Once inside the four roomed house in Camden Town

They saw Bob’s wife, dressed in a twice-turned gown

Though not dressed in the height of fashion, indeed poorly

Brave in ribbons, which for sixpence decorate cheaply

And she laid the tablecloth, assisted ably by Belinda

Also brave in ribbons who was her second daughter

While Master Peter Cratchit plunged a fork into a pot

In search of a potato to see if it was cooked or not

And now two smaller Cratchit’s, boy and girl, tore in

“We smelt the goose at the bakers” they were screaming

Soon all the young Cratchit’s danced about the table

All squealing in excitement with a hop and gambol

This went on until the slow potatoes began bubbling

Knocking loudly at the saucepan-lid noisily cooking

“Wherever has your father got too what’s keeping him?”

Said Mrs. Cratchit “And your dear brother, Tiny Tim”

And Martha wasn't as late as this last Christmas Day”

“Here's Martha, mother,” said a girl unbarring her way

The two young Cratchit’s cried, “Mother here's Martha!”

“Why, bless your heart alive, my dear, how late you are!”

Kissing her daughter a dozen times, Mrs. Cratchit said

While taking off her shawl and the bonnet off her head

“We'd a deal of work to finish up last night,” said Martha

“And we had to clear it away this morning, mother”

Mrs. Cratchit said “Never mind so long as you are here “.

“Sit down before the fire and have a warm, my dear”

“Father’s coming,” the two young Cratchit’s loudly cried

They were everywhere at once. “Hide, Martha, hide!”

So Martha hid herself, and in came Bob, the father,

In his comforter and with Tiny Tim upon his shoulder

He set down the boy who used a crutch tiny as his name

And had to have his limbs supported by an iron frame

“Why, where's our Martha?” cried Bob looking round

“Not coming,” said Mrs. Cratchit staring at the ground

“Not coming!” said Bob, “Not coming” his wife said 

“Not coming on Christmas Day?” he hung his head

Martha didn't like to see the disappointed on his face

Even in a joke so she came out from her hiding place

And she ran into her father’s arms and embraced him

While the two young Cratchit’s carried young Tiny Tim

Off into the washhouse that he might hear the pudding

As it boils violently in the copper there loudly singing

When Bob had hugged his daughter to his heart's content

Then hugged his wife whom he neglected in his merriment

“And how did little Tim behave?” asked Mrs. Cratchit

Watched only by Ebeneezer Scrooge and the spirit

“As good as gold,” said Bob, “And better my dear

He gets thoughtful so much by himself sitting here

And thinks the strangest things you’ve heard honestly

When we were coming home he said to me earnestly

That he hoped that the people in the church saw him

As he was a cripple, as it may be pleasant for them

To remember on this Christmas Day, he told me

Who it was made the lame walk, and blind men see.”

Bob's voice trembled when he told this news to her

And more so as he said Tiny Tim grew much stronger

His active little crutch was heard noisily upon the floor

And Tiny Tim appeared through the wash house door

He was led to his fireside stool by his brother and sister

Bob put a jug of gin and lemons on the hob to simmer

Peter and the young Cratchit's went to fetch the goose

Returning from the bakers with it spitting in its juice

Such a bustle ensued at the returning goose procession

That you may have thought a goose the rarest acquisition

Mrs. Cratchit made gravy hissing hot and full of flavor

Master Peter mashed potatoes with incredible vigor

Belinda made the apple-sauce Martha dusted plates

Bob took Tiny Tim beside him at the table and waits

The two young Cratchit’s set the chairs for everyone

At last dishes were set, and grace was said and done

It was succeeded by a breathless pause, as Mrs. Cratchit,

Looking at the carving-knife, prepared to plunge it

In the breast of the modest goose, but when she did

The gush of stuffing issued from where it had been hid

One murmur of delight arose all-round the family table

One and all beat on the table with the their knife handle

And all cried Hurrah! As the festivities were let loose

Bob said in all sincerity “There never was such a goose”

Indeed Its tenderness and flavor, size and cheapness

Were the themes of universal admiration and happiness

Eked out by apple-sauce and mashed potatoes all agreed

It was a sufficient dinner for the whole family; indeed

Mrs. Cratchit said surveying a scrap with great delight

That they hadn't eaten everything to the very last bite

Yet everyone had had enough which plainly satisfies

And all were stuffed with sage and onion to the eyes

The dirty plates were cleared away by Miss Martha

And then the clean plates being laid by Miss Belinda

Mrs. Cratchit left the room alone to fetch the pudding

From the wash house and bring it to the table steaming

Suppose it should not be done enough? Well it ought

Suppose it should be done too much? No she thought

Suppose it should break in turning out? Oh damn it

Suppose somebody should have got in and stolen it

All was merry with the goose and gave satisfaction

But all sorts of horrors plagued her in her supposition

The pudding was out of the copper and steaming

In half a minute she returned flushed, but smiling

With the pudding looking like a speckled cannon-ball

Hard and firm, blazing in brandy and holly atop it all

Oh, a wonderful pudding! Bob said, and calmly too

Though it was the greatest success ever in his view

Mrs. Cratchit said it was a weight off her mind really

She confessed she had doubts about the flour quantity

Everybody had something to say about it, but nobody

Said or thought it was a small pudding for a large family

At last the dinner was all done, the cloth was cleared

The hearth swept, and the fire made up until it roared

The gin and lemons were tasted and passed acceptable

And a plate of apples and oranges were put on the table

Then a shovel-full of chestnuts were then put on the fire

And all the family drew around the hearth like a choir

At Bob’s elbow stood the family set of glass on display

Plus two tumblers and a cup with handle broke away 

These held the gin and lemons from the jug, however

A set of golden goblets could not have done better

Bob served out the hot punch while beaming happily

As the chestnuts on the fire sputtered and cracked noisily

Then Bob Cratchit reverently proposed a toast thus

“A Merry Christmas to us all, my dears. God bless us.”

Which the family re-echoed “God bless us every one!”

Said Tiny Tim, the last to say when the others had done.

He sat close to his father's side upon his little chair

Holding his withered hand he gave the hand a stare

Loving his son and wishing to keep him by his side

His dread that he might lose him he could not hide

 

“Spirit,” said Scrooge with previously unfelt interest

“Tell me if Tiny Tim will live.” He asked in earnest

“I see a vacant seat,” replied the Ghost, “In the corner

And a crutch carefully preserved without an owner

The child will die if these shadows remain unaltered”

“No,” said Scrooge. “Kind Spirit. Say he will be spared.”

“If these shadows do remain unaltered by the Future,

The ghost said, “None other of my race will find him here”

“What then? If he be like to die” continued the apparition

“He had better do it, and decrease the surplus population.”

Scrooge hung his head low in penitence and disbelief

To hear his own words and was overcome with grief

“You should hold your tongue and not speak wickedly 

Until you discover what the surplus is, and where it be.”

Scrooge cowered and could not meet the spirit’s eye

“And will you decide who shall live and who shall die?

It may be, you are more worthless in the sight of Heaven

And less fit to live than millions of poor men's children”

Scrooge bent low before the Ghost's rebuke trembling

But raised his eyes speedily on hearing Bob speaking

 

“Mr. Scrooge!” said Bob addressing them like a priest

“I'll give you Mr. Scrooge, the Founder of the Feast!”

“The Founder of the Feast indeed! I wish I had him here

I'd give him a piece of my mind to feast upon, my dear

And I hope he would have a very good appetite for it.”

Finished the volatile and reddening Mrs. Cratchit

“My dear,” said Bob, “The children. Christmas Day.”

“It should be Christmas Day, I am sure I would say,

On which one drinks the health of such an odiously

Unfeeling man as Mr. Scrooge so cruel hard and stingy

Nobody knows better than you about Scrooges way”

“My dear,” was Bob's mild answer, “Christmas Day.”

“I'll drink his health for your sake and the Day's,”

Said Mrs. Cratchit, “Not for him and his miserable ways

Long life a merry Christmas and a happy New Year!

He’ll be very merry and very happy, I’m quite sure”

The children drank the toast after her long address

It was the first of their rituals having no heartiness

Tiny Tim drank last of all, but didn't care much for it

Scrooge was the ogre of the whole family of Cratchit

Mention of his name cast a dark shadow on the party

Lasting full five minutes until they were again hearty

After it had passed away, they were ten times merrier

With thought of Scrooge behind them they were happier

Bob Cratchit told them how he had in his eye a situation

For Master Peter, which would bring in, as contribution

If obtained, full five-and-sixpence weekly for their son

Which that sums receipt would be a bewildering income

The rest of the time passed by in family conversation

While chestnuts and jug went round without cessation

Martha, who was an apprentice at a millinery locally

Told them what kind of work had kept her so busy

And by-and-bye there were songs sung quite by choice

Even Tiny Tim, who had a very plaintive little voice

They were not remarkable they were quite ordinary

They were not a handsome or a well-dressed family

Their shoes were far from being proof against weather

Scanty clothed and were not strangers to the pawnbroker

But, were happy, grateful, pleased with one another

And contented with their lot and their time together

They left the Cratchit family in their happy reveling

The spirit gave a sprinkle from his torch in parting

And Ebeneezer Scrooge had kept his eye upon them

Until the very last moment and especially on Tiny Tim

 

VERSE 5 – WIDELY ABROAD

 

By this time it was getting dark, and snowing heavily

And as they went along the spirit used his torch merrily

Brightness spilled from each kitchen or parlor window

Doors open to welcome visitors to the fireside glow

Every person they passed received a liberal sprinkling

Of the spirits torch his eyes were constantly twinkling

Even the lamplighter received a blessing that night

As he ran the dusky streets dotting them with light

And so it was the spirit blessed all who came before

Then suddenly they stood on a bleak deserted moor

 

Monstrous masses of rude stone were cast randomly

A course barren place where the wind moaned eerily

“What place is this?” asked Scrooge uneasy at the sound

“A place where Miners live, who labor underground”

Returned the Spirit. “But they know me. Look and see.”

A light shone out from the window of a hut distantly

Swiftly they moved to it as the wind continued to moan

And they passed through the wall of mud and stone

Inside the dwelling they found a cheerful company

Made up of several generations of the same family

They were all happily assembled round a glowing fire

And everyone was decked out gaily in holiday attire

The oldest man led them in the Christmas singing

As loud and hearty at the end as in the beginning

Then they passed through the mud wall once more

To once again stand upon the grim desolate moor

The Spirit and Scrooge did not however tarry here

They sped away with Scrooge tried to hide his fear

 

To Scrooge's horror they flew off across the dark sea

Looking back, he saw the last of the land fading quickly

Below were ragged rocks pounded by thundering waves

There treachery sending many men to watery graves

Built on this reef of sunken rock and out cropping

There stood a solitary lighthouse to warn all shipping

But even out here, the two men who watched the light

Had made a fire and were making merry on the holy night

Again the Ghost sped on, above the black heaving sea

On until far from shore they saw a ship blown fiercely 

 

They lighted on the ship and stood beside the helmsman

Who fought with the wheel watched by a midshipman

But every man of them as against the wind they fought

Hummed a Christmas tune, or had a Christmas thought

Or spoke to a companion of some bygone Christmas Day

And every man on board spoke in a much friendlier way

Then the ship suddenly faded away and the wind died

And laughter pervaded as they stood under a city sky