Part One

In which a loving family has a happy Christmas upon small means.

It will surprise you very much to hear that there was once a man who did not like Christmas. His name was Scrooge. Mr. Scrooge had no wife and children and Christmas meant nothing to him. He hated the noise, and the merriment, and thought the time was wasted. He was a very unhappy man because he had nobody to love and loved nobody.

Well, it was Christmas Eve, a very cold and foggy one, and Mr. Scrooge, having given his poor clerk permission to spend Christmas Day at home, locked up his office and went home himself in a very bad temper. He got into bed and had some wonderful and disagreeable dreams, to which we will leave him while we see how Tiny Tim, the son of the poor clerk, spent Christmas Day.

The name of the clerk was Bob Cratchit. He had a wife and six children. Tiny Tim, the youngest, was a weak and delicate little cripple, and for this reason was dearly loved by his family. Whenever he could spare the time Bob Cratchit delighted to take his little boy on his shoulder to see the shops and the people, and to-day he had taken him to church for the first time.

“Whatever has made your precious father and your brother, Tiny Tim, so late for dinner!” exclaimed Mrs. Cratchit. “The dinner is ready to be dished up.”

“Here they are now!” cried Belinda. In came Bob Cratchit with Tiny Tim on his shoulders. Then out ran two of the boys and hustled Tiny Tim out to the wash-house, that he might hear the pudding singing on the copper.

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

“As good as gold, and better,” replied his father. Just then his little crutch was heard on the floor, and back came Tiny Tim to sit before the fire, and wait while his brothers and sisters brought in the dinner. Such a bustle ensued, and such a dinner! Bob took Tiny Tim by him at the table; then the plates were put on and grace said. There was a breathless pause as Mrs. Cratchit plunged the carving knife into the breast of the goose. Never was there such a goose, and the potatoes and apple sauce made your mouth water.

When the plates were cleared off the pudding was brought in, steaming hot, looking like a speckled cannon ball, with Christmas holly. Oh, such a wonderful pudding!

Bob Cratchit said it was the greatest success ever achieved by his wife. The dinner finished and all cleared off, apples and oranges were put upon the table, and a shovel of chestnuts placed on the fire, sputtering and cracking noisily.

Then Bob Cratchit proposed: “A Merry Christmas to us all, my dears, God bless us!” which all the family re-echoed. “God bless us every one!” said Tiny Tim the last of all.