MUSIC:

FANFARE ... THEME (FROM TCHAIKOVSKY'S PIANO CONCERTO NO. 1) ... THEN BEHIND ANNOUNCER--

ANNOUNCER:

The makers of Campbell's Soups present - THE CAMPBELL PLAYHOUSE! Orson Welles, producer.

MUSIC:

THEME UP AND OUT

ANNOUNCER:

Good evening, listeners! This is Ernest Chappell speaking. Tonight Orson Welles and the Campbell Playhouse observe a Campbell tradition of long standing. They bring you Charles Dickens' well-loved tale of yuletide, "A Christmas Carol."

MUSIC:

JAUNTY, IN BG ... GENTLY OUT BY [X]

ANNOUNCER:

Four years ago the makers of Campbell's Soups went shopping for a Christmas present to give to all their friends. They found it in this story, Charles Dickens' embodiment of the very spirit of Christmas. And they chose well, because throughout the country today, in thousands of homes, it has become an important and beloved Christmas custom to listen to this story.

Tonight, this fourth annual presentation is brought to you with the sincere wish that your Christmas may be a happy one, and with the hope that the re-telling of "A Christmas Carol" may help to make it so.

And it is more than that. For with this Christmas present to you Campbell's say "Thank You" for your purchases of Campbell's Soup throughout the months gone by. At the Christmas season this becomes especially manifest. [X] Everywhere grocers see their shelves of Campbell's Soups dwindle more rapidly now than at any other time of the year. It used to be thought that the demand increased in preparation for the Christmas feast, but really it isn't that alone. Women like to have plenty of good soups on hand all through the holidays, so that they can serve piping-hot, nourishing platefuls at any family mealtime. The youngsters are on the go all day long, making the most of the Christmas vacation, and soup can be ready for them in a jiffy. There's health and happiness in good hot soup. Your grocer has Campbell's Soups -- twenty-one delicious kinds -- awaiting your selection.

MUSIC:

A CAPPELLA CHORUS SINGS A HYMN ... THEN IN BG

WELLES:

And it came to pass in those days that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus, that all the world should be taxed. And all went to be taxed, every one into his own city. And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem; (because he was of the house and lineage of David:) to be taxed with Mary, his espoused wife, being great with child. And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered. And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.

And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them,

"Fear not:

for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger."

And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying,

"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men."

MUSIC:

CHORUS ... UP, TO A FINISH

WELLES:

Since the days of Caesar Augustus all people have celebrated by joy the great joy which shall be to all people. For unto us was born this day in the city of David, a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And on this day, at least in the calendar of our year, we affirm the glory of our God by the laughter of our children.

Every nation according to its character and its taste, by some gift of gaiety has enriched the tradition of this, our solemnest festival. And because America is what it is, we are the fortunate heirs of the accumulated customs of almost 2,000 years of keeping Christmas. The best songs that have been sung are sung by us. The best games that have been played we play, and the best stories ever told are ours to tell.

For storytelling has persisted as a Christmas ritual in spite of the printing press, a ceremony as hilarious and as serious as hanging the stocking, dressing the tree, and kissing under the mistletoe.

And because Christmas is first of all for children, Christmas stories are fairy stories first of all. It is mildly surprising that the best of them all, which we're telling again for you tonight, is for everybody, and turns out to be a ghost story.

"I have endeavored", writes its author on its title page, "I have endeavored in this Ghostly little story to raise the Ghost of an idea, which shall not put my readers out of humor with themselves, with each other, with the season, or with me. May it haunt their houses pleasantly, and no one wish to lay it." 'Tis signed: "Your faithful friend and servant, Charles Dickens."

MUSIC:

FOR A BRIEF BOISTEROUS INTRODUCTION ... THEN SHARPLY OUT

NARRATOR:

Marley was dead, to begin with. There's no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it: and Scrooge's name was good upon 'Change for anything he chose to put his hand to. Old Marley was as dead as a doornail.

Scrooge knew he was dead? Of course he did. Scrooge and Marley were partners, I don't know how many years. Ohhh! (CHUCKLE) He was a tight-fisted hand at the grindstone, Scrooge. Scrooge! A squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous old sinner! Secret, and self-contained.

MUSIC:

CAROLERS FADE IN SINGING "GOD REST YOU MERRY, GENTLEMEN" ... IN BG--

NARRATOR:

Once upon a time -- of all the good days in the year, on Christmas Eve -- old Scrooge sat busy in his counting-house. It was a cold, bleak, biting evening: foggy withal; and he could hear the people in the court outside go wheezing up and down, beating their hands upon their breasts and stamping their feet upon the pavement to warm them. (SOUND: CLOCK STRIKES FOUR) The door of Scrooge's counting-house was open, that he might keep his eyes upon the clerk, Bob Cratchit, who, in a cold and dismal little cell beyond worked at his ledgers.

BOB:

(TO HIMSELF) Twenty-nine -- nine and carry two. Thirteen, seventeen, seven, and carry one. And--

SCROOGE:

Close the door, Cratchit! Shut out that infernal noise!

BOB:

(OFF) Yes, Mr. Scrooge.

SOUND:

A LITTLE BELL TINKLES AS THE DOOR CLOSES, NOT ENTIRELY SHUTTING OUT THE CAROLERS

SCROOGE:

(TO HIMSELF) Confound their impudence! (UP, CALLS) Er, ah, Cratchit!

BOB:

(OFF) Yes, Mr. Scrooge?

SCROOGE:

You're to stop at Fothergill's on your way home tonight, and collect that 17 shillings and sixpence he's owed me since Michaelmas, and tell him I shall have the constable over there if he doesn't pay it at once!

BOB:

Well, sir, Mr. Fothergill's wife has been ill, sir--

SCROOGE:

What do I care about his wife?! I want my seventeen and six!

BOB:

I - I just thought, it being Christmas--

SCROOGE:

(SCORNFUL) Christmas! (DISGUSTED) Christmas.

SOUND:

DOOR OPENS, BELL TINKLES, CAROLERS UP & DOWN AS DOOR CLOSES

FRED:

(OFF) Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas, Bob!

BOB:

Oh, Mr. Fred! Well, merry Christmas.

FRED:

(ON) Merry Christmas to you, uncle! (NO ANSWER) Merry Christmas, uncle.

SCROOGE:

Hm? Bah! Humbug.

FRED:

Humbug? Christmas a humbug, uncle? Now, I'm sure you don't mean that.

SCROOGE:

I do! "Merry Christmas." What right have you to be merry? What reason have you to be merry? You're poor enough.

FRED:

Well, come then, uncle -- what right have you to be dismal? You're rich enough.

SCROOGE:

Bah! Humbug.

FRED:

Don't be cross, uncle.

SCROOGE:

What else can I be -- when I live in such a world of fools? What's Christmas to you but a time for paying bills without money. Merry Christmas! A time for finding yourself a year older and not an hour richer. If I could work my will, every idiot who goes about with "Merry Christmas" on his lips should be boiled with his own pudding and buried with a stake of his own holly through his heart.

FRED:

(PLEADS QUIETLY) Uncle--!

SCROOGE:

Nephew! Keep Christmas in your own way, and let me keep it in mine.

FRED:

Keep it? But you don't keep it!

SCROOGE:

Let me leave it alone, then. What do you want, nephew? A Christmas gift, I have no doubt.

FRED:

I came to wish you a Merry Christmas, uncle.

SCROOGE:

A Merry Christmas! Much good may Christmas do you! Much good has it ever done you!

FRED:

There are many things from which I have derived good, by which I have not profited, I dare say, uncle; Christmas among the rest! But I have always thought of Christmas time as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time. And therefore, uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe it HAS done me good, and WILL do me good, and I say God bless it!

BOB:

(OFF, APPLAUDS) God bless Christmas! Hurrah!

SCROOGE:

(EXPLODES) Let me hear another sound from you out there, Bob Cratchit, and you'll keep your Christmas by losing your situation! (TO FRED) As to you, nephew, I wonder you don't go into Parliament. You talk enough nonsense.

FRED:

(CHUCKLES) Don't be angry, uncle. I want nothing from you; I ask nothing of you. Why can't we be friends?

SCROOGE:

Good afternoon!

FRED:

I'm sorry you feel that way. Well, I've tried. A Merry Christmas to you, uncle.

SCROOGE:

Good afternoon!

FRED:

(MOVING OFF) And a Happy New Year, too!

SCROOGE:

Humbug! Humbug.

FRED:

(OFF) Merry Christmas to you, Bob and the Missus. And to Tiny Tim.

BOB:

(OFF) Thank you, Mr. Fred. Same to you, sir. Good day, sir.

FRED:

(OFF) Good day, Bob.

SOUND:

DOOR OPENS, BELL TINKLES, CAROLERS UP

FRED:

(OFF) Merry Christmas, Uncle Ebenezer!

SOUND:

DOOR CLOSES, BELL TINKLES, CAROLERS DOWN

SCROOGE:

(TO HIMSELF) Twaddle! Nonsense! Flummery! Talking of Christmas, and not a sixpence to jingle against another in his trousers pocket.

SOUND:

THUMP! OF BOB HANDLING COAL, OFF

SCROOGE:

You there, Bob Cratchit! You there!

BOB:

Yes, sir?

SCROOGE:

What are you doing in there?

BOB:

Oh, I was only putting a bit more coal on the fire, Mr. Scrooge, seeing it's so cold in here, sir.

SCROOGE:

You put that coal back in the scuttle!

BOB:

Yes, sir.

SCROOGE:

(TO HIMSELF) A fire! A fire, indeed! (UP, ANGRY) I can tell you, if you use coal at that rate, you and I'll be soon partin' company, Bob Cratchit! Do you understand that? Many a young fellow'd like YOUR situation, you know.

BOB:

(OFF) I'm sorry, sir. My fingers were getting a little stiff with the cold.

SCROOGE:

Then put on your mittens!

SOUND:

KNOCK ON DOOR

MAN:

(BEHIND DOOR) Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!

SCROOGE:

There's someone at the door! See who it is!

BOB:

(OFF) Yes, sir.

SOUND:

DOOR OPENS, BELL TINKLES, CAROLERS UP

MAN:

(OFF) Merry Christmas, sir.

BOB:

(OFF) Merry Christ-- Er, yes, sir?

MAN:

(OFF) This is the firm of Scrooge and Marley?

BOB:

(OFF) Yes, sir.

SOUND:

DOOR CLOSES, BELL TINKLES, CAROLERS DOWN

MAN:

(OFF) I should like to see the head of the firm, if I may.

BOB:

(OFF) Oh, very good, sir. Step this way, please.

SCROOGE:

(ANNOYED) What is it?

BOB:

A gentleman to see you, Mr. Scrooge.

SCROOGE:

Eh?

MAN:

(APPROACHES) Have I the pleasure of addressing Mr. Scrooge, or Mr. Marley?

SCROOGE:

Marley's been dead these seven years tonight.

MAN:

(SORRY TO HEAR THAT) Ohh.

SCROOGE:

And I'm Scrooge, 'though I doubt that'll be any "pleasure" to you, sir.

MAN:

Oh, er-- Oh, I'm sure it will! Now, Mr. Scrooge, at this season of the year it's only fitting that we who are more fortunate should raise a fund to buy the poor some meat and drink and means of warmth. You may not believe it, sir, but many thousands are now in want of common necessities, and hundreds of thousands are in want of comforts, sir!

SCROOGE:

Are there no prisons?

MAN:

(TAKEN ABACK) There are plenty of prisons, sir.

SCROOGE:

And the workhouses? They're still in operation, I trust?

MAN:

I wish I could say they are not. But they are, sir.

SCROOGE:

The treadmill and the Poor Law are in full vigor, then?

MAN:

Both very busy, sir.

SCROOGE:

I'm very glad to hear that. I was afraid from what you said at first that something had occurred to stop them in their useful course. Now, sir, what do you want with me?

MAN:

Well, Mr. Scrooge, a few of us are endeavoring to raise a fund for the poor and destitute. What shall I put you down for?

SCROOGE:

Nothing!

MAN:

You wish to be anonymous, sir?

SCROOGE:

I wish to be let alone! I don't make merry at Christmas time and I can't afford to help make idle people merry! I help to support the establishments that take care of the poor. They cost enough. Let those who are badly off go there.

MAN:

Well, many can't go there, sir, and many would rather die.

SCROOGE:

Then let them do so, and decrease the surplus population. Besides, how do I know that's true?

MAN:

You might know it some day, Mr. Scrooge.

SCROOGE:

It's not my business! It's enough for a man to understand his own business, and not to interfere with other people's. Mine occupies me constantly. Good afternoon, sir. (TO BOB) Cratchit, show this gentleman out. (NO RESPONSE) Cratchit!

BOB:

(STARTLED) Y-y-yes, sir. This way, sir, please.

SOUND:

FOOTSTEPS OF BOB AND THE MAN TO DOOR

BOB:

(OFF, LOW) Oh, excuse me, sir, I couldn't help overhearing. I should like to contribute threepence. It's all I can afford. But if there are others in worse situation than I--

MAN:

(OFF) You're a generous fellow! I wish I might say the same of your employer.

BOB:

(OFF) Good afternoon, sir!

MAN:

(OFF) Good day! Merry Christmas!

BOB:

(OFF) Good afternoon, sir. And a Merry Christmas!

SOUND:

DURING ABOVE, DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES, CAROLERS UP & DOWN ... THEN BOB SITS DOWN ... (THE CAROLERS FINALLY FADE OUT WITH THE STRIKING CLOCK)

BOB:

(TO HIMSELF) Fifteen, twenty-four, thirty-one, one and carry three. (SOUND: CLOCK STRIKES FIVE) Seventeen, twenty-two, thirty-three, three and carry three. Four, seven, eight.

SCROOGE:

(OFF) Cratchit!

BOB:

(TO HIMSELF) Twelve. Fifteen.

SCROOGE:

(OFF) Cratchit!

BOB:

Yes, sir?

SOUND:

SCROOGE'S STEPS APPROACH BEHIND--

SCROOGE:

Cratchit! It's too late to have you go to Fothergill's; he'll be closed up for Christmas like these other fools. We may as well close up this place now.

BOB:

Yes, sir. 'Tis getting a little dark. Hard to see the figures.

SCROOGE:

I suppose you'll want the entire day tomorrow, Cratchit?

BOB:

If quite convenient, sir.

SCROOGE:

It's not convenient! And it's not fair! If I was to stop half-a-crown of your wages for it you'd think yourself ill-used, I'll be bound!

BOB:

Well, sir--

SCROOGE:

And yet you don't think ME ill-used when I pay a day's wages for no work!

BOB:

It's only once a year, sir.

SCROOGE:

Yeah, once a year! Once a year, indeed! A fine excuse for picking a man's pocket every twenty-fifth of December! I suppose you must have the whole day. Well, see that you're here all the earlier the next morning. Do you understand?

BOB:

Oh, I - I will, sir. I will! (MOVING OFF) Well, good night, sir. Good night and-- (WANTS TO SAY "MERRY CHRISTMAS" BUT SAYS, MEEKLY--) Good night.

SOUND:

DOOR OPENS AND SHUTS AS BOB EXITS

BOB:

(FROM BEHIND DOOR) Merry Christmas, Mr. Scrooge.

SCROOGE:

(AS IF WOUNDED) Bah!

MUSIC:

A HAPPY TUNE ... THEN IN BG

NARRATOR:

The office was closed in a twinkling, and Bob Cratchit with the long ends of his white comforter dangling below his waist (for he boasted no great-coat) went down a slide on Cornhill twenty times in honor of its being Christmas Eve, and then ran home to Camden Town as hard as he could pelt, to play with his family at blindman's-buff.

MUSIC:

HAPPY TUNE CONTINUES A MOMENT ... THEN ABRUPTLY TURNS MELANCHOLY ... THEN IN BG--

NARRATOR:

Scrooge, on the other hand, took his melancholy dinner in his usual melancholy tavern, and having read all the newspapers, and spent the rest of the evening with his banker's book, went home to his dismal house. The yard was so dark that even Scrooge, who knew its every stone, had to grope with his hands. The fog and frost hung about the black old gateway of the house. Darkness is cheap and Scrooge liked it.

Before he shut his heavy door, he walked through his rooms to see that all was right. Sitting room, bedroom, lumber room -- all as they should be. Nobody under the table; nobody under the sofa. A small fire in the grate of his bedroom; spoon and basin ready; and a little saucepan of gruel upon the hob.

Nobody under the bed. Nobody in the closet. Closed his door, and locked himself in. Double-locked himself in. Then, took off his cravat, put on his dressing-gown and slippers and his night-cap, and sat down before the fire to take his gruel.

It was a very low fire, indeed. Nothing on such a bitter night. Not even enough to kindle a glow of light in the cheerless room.

SOUND:

DISTANT CLOCK STRIKES MIDNIGHT VERY SLOWLY

NARRATOR:

Scrooge stretched his numb fingers over the wretched fire. (BEAT) Then he saw something that made-- That made him draw them back.

MUSIC:

GENTLY EERIE ... IN BG--

NARRATOR:

Slowly the meager embers dissolved before his astonished eyes, dissolved into a face -- a ghostly face, but one that Scrooge recognized as the face of Marley. Marley, his partner, dead these seven years. It was not angry or ferocious, but looked at Scrooge as Marley used to look: with ghostly spectacles turned up on its ghostly forehead. The hairs were curiously stirred like flames blown from a chimney draft, and through the death-cold eyes Scrooge saw the buttons on the back of his coat.

SOUND:

DURING ABOVE, CLOCK FINISHES STRIKING MIDNIGHT

SCROOGE:

(AMUSED) Heh! Humbug. (SHARPLY) Humbug! (QUIETLY UNEASY) Humbug.

NARRATOR:

Scrooge got up and walked away from the fire. As he turned, his glance happened to rest upon a bell -- a disused bell that hung in a corner of the room. It was with great astonishment and with a strange inexplicable dread that as he looked he saw this bell begin to swing. Slowly at first.

MUSIC:

TOPPED BY--

SOUND:

OF SINGLE BELL RINGING ALMOST INAUDIBLY ... SOUND GROWS ... JOINED BY OTHER BELLS ... PRESENTLY EVERY BELL IN THE HOUSE IS RINGING, ECHOING ... NOISE REACHES A PEAK ... BELLS ABRUPTLY FADE OUT WITH THE LOUD CLANK! OF HEAVY CHAINS DROPPED ON THE WOODEN FLOOR

MUSIC:

GENTLY EERIE ... IN BG--

NARRATOR:

It was the same face. The same face he had seen in the fire; Marley's face. And Marley--

SOUND:

CLANK! OF MORE HEAVY CHAINS DROPPED ON THE WOODEN FLOOR ... THEN CHAINS DRAGGED ACROSS FLOOR, IN BG--

NARRATOR:

Marley's body coming straight at him through the door. A body pale as the bluish smoke that comes out of a chimney on a cold day. A body so transparent that Scrooge, looking through his waistcoat, could see his watch in his waistcoat pocket. The chain he drew was clasped about his middle. It was long and wound about him like a tail, and it was made of cash-boxes, keys, padlocks, and heavy purses wrought in steel. Even now Scrooge would not believe his eyes. The ghost advanced towards him.

MUSIC:

OUT WITH--

SOUND:

CLANK! OF HEAVY CHAINS DROPPED ON THE WOODEN FLOOR

MARLEY:

(OMINOUS) Ebenezer Scrooge! Ebenezer Scroooooge!

SCROOGE:

(UNEASY) Marley! What do you want with me?

MARLEY:

Much.

SCROOGE:

Who - who are you?

MARLEY:

Ask me who I was.

SCROOGE:

Who were you, then? You're-- You're particular for a ghost.

MARLEY:

In life I was your partner, Jacob Marley.

SCROOGE:

Jacob Marley? But -- you're dead! You died seven years ago this very night.

MARLEY:

You do not believe in me, then?

SCROOGE:

I do not.

MARLEY:

Why do you doubt your senses?

SCROOGE:

Well, because a little thing affects them. A slight disorder of the stomach makes them cheats. You - you may be an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of an underdone potato! There may be more gravy than grave about you, whatever you are! Humbug, I tell ya! Humbug!

NARRATOR:

At this, the spirit, taking the bandage off from around its head, as if it were too warm to wear indoors, its lower jaw dropped upon its breast.

SCROOGE:

(STARTLED CRY)

MARLEY:

Man of the worldly mind! Do you believe in me now?

SCROOGE:

I do, Jacob! I do. (PAUSE) Why do you walk the earth? Why do you come to me, Jacob?

MARLEY:

It is required of every man that the spirit within him should walk abroad among his fellow men and travel far and wide; to witness what it cannot share, but MIGHT have shared on earth and turned to happiness.

SCROOGE:

Tell me, Jacob. What is that chain you wear around you?

MARLEY:

I wear the chain I forged in life -- cash-boxes, keys, padlocks, ledgers, purses. I made it link by link, by my own free will. Is its pattern strange to you, Ebenezer? Yours was as heavy and as long as this, seven years ago. And you've labored on it since, Ebenezer Scrooge.

SCROOGE:

Jacob! Old Jacob Marley, tell me more! Speak comfort to me, Jacob!

MARLEY:

I have none to give, Ebenezer. No rest, no peace. Incessant torture of remorse.

SCROOGE:

But you were always a good man of business, Jacob.

MARLEY:

Business! Mankind was my business! Charity, mercy, benevolence -- they were all my business! The dealings of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business.

SCROOGE:

(PLEADS) Jacob--

MARLEY:

Hear me, Ebenezer Scrooge! My time is nearly gone.

SCROOGE:

I - I will. I will, Jacob. But don't be hard on me! Speak to me, Jacob, but please don't be flowery.

MARLEY:

I am here tonight to warn you that you have yet a chance and hope of escaping my fate, Ebenezer.

SCROOGE:

You were always a good friend to me, Jacob. Thank'ee. And go on. Go on, Jacob.

MARLEY:

Listen to me, Ebenezer. You will be haunted by three Spirits.

SCROOGE:

I -- think I'd rather not.

MARLEY:

Without their visits, Ebenezer Scrooge, you cannot hope to shun the path I tread. Expect the first tomorrow when the bell tolls one. Expect the second on the next night at the same hour. The third upon the next night. Look to see me no more. And look that, for your own sake, you remember what has passed between us!

SCROOGE:

Marley!

SOUND:

CLANK! OF HEAVY CHAINS DROPPED ON THE WOODEN FLOOR ... THEN DRAGGED AWAY BEHIND--

SCROOGE:

Jacob Marley!

SOUND:

THUNDEROUS MOANING WIND SWEEPS IN, THEN CONTINUES IN BG ... ECHOING CLOCK STRIKES ONE, LOW AND OMINOUS

MUSIC:

DURING ABOVE, FADE IN EERIE STRINGS ... THEN IN BG

NARRATOR:

Scrooge awoke. He was lying on his bed fully dressed -- when suddenly the curtains of his bed were drawn aside, and Scrooge found himself face to face with the unearthly visitor who drew them, as close to it as I am now to you, and I am standing in the spirit at your elbow. It was a strange figure, like a child; yet not so like a child as like an old man. Its hair, which hung about its neck and down its back, was white as if with age; and yet the face had not a wrinkle in it, and the tenderest bloom was on the skin. The arms were long and muscular; the hands the same, as if its hold were of uncommon strength. Its dress was of the purest white, trimmed with summer flowers. It held a branch of fresh green holly in its hand. But the strangest thing about it was that from the crown of its head there sprang a clear jet of light by which all this was visible; and which was doubtless the occasion of its using, in its duller moments, a great extinguisher for a cap, which it now held under its arm.

SOUND:

WIND SLOWLY SUBSIDES BUT CONTINUES DURING FOLLOWING--

MUSIC:

FILLS AN UNEASY PAUSE ... CONTINUES EERILY IN BG--

PAST:

Ebenezer Scrooge! Ebenezer Scrooge?

SCROOGE:

Are you the spirit whose coming was foretold to me?

PAST:

I am!

SCROOGE:

Who and what are you?

PAST:

I am the ghost of Christmas Past.

SCROOGE:

Long past?

PAST:

No. Your past!

SCROOGE:

What business brings you here? What do you want of me?

PAST:

Your welfare! Ebenezer Scrooge, rise and walk with me!

SCROOGE:

(SCARED) No! No, not the window! I'm mortal! I'll fall down!

PAST:

Bear but a touch of my hand -- there, upon your heart -- and you shall be upheld in more than this. Come, follow me. Let us go.

SOUND & MUSIC:

THUNDEROUS WIND AND OMINOUS MUSIC, UP BIG ... THEN ALL OUT ABRUPTLY FOR A CRISP WIND, IN BG

NARRATOR:

They stood upon an open country road with fields on either hand. The city had entirely vanished. The darkness and the mist had vanished with it, for it was a clear, cold, winter day, with snow upon the ground.

MUSIC:

BOYS SING AN A CAPPELLA HYMN ... FADES IN VERY FAINTLY BEHIND NARRATOR AND CONTINUES IN BG--

NARRATOR:

They walked along the road. Scrooge began to recognize every gate, every post, every tree, until a little market town appeared in the distance, with its bridge, its church, and winding river. Some shaggy ponies now were seen trotting towards them with boys upon their backs or in sleighs.

SOUND:

BOYS SHOUTING, IN BG

NARRATOR:

And all these boys were in great spirits and shouted to each other that they were happy, shouting through the broad fields until they were so full of music that the crisp air laughed to hear it.

SOUND:

JUBILANT VOICES SHOUTING AND SINGING ... UP, TO FILL A PAUSE ... VOICES FADES OUT BEHIND NARRATOR ... CRISP WIND CONTINUES IN BG

NARRATOR:

And there stood old Scrooge, in his dressing-gown and slippers and night-cap on the hill, and beside him the Spirit of Christmas Past. And now the spirit spoke again.

PAST:

Not all the boys and girls were singing on that Christmas day, were they, Ebenezer Scrooge? See the bleak building over there?

SCROOGE:

That building? I was a boy there. I went to school in that place.

PAST:

Do you recollect the way?

SCROOGE:

I could walk it blindfold.

PAST:

Strange you have forgotten it for so many years. Come, let us go closer. Look through the window into this cold, barren room. What do you see, Ebenezer Scrooge?

SCROOGE:

I - I see a boy.

PAST:

A solitary child, neglected by his friends, sitting alone, a book open before him.

SCROOGE:

Yes. Yes, I see. (SLOWLY, BROKENLY) I know that boy. I was lonely. I-- Poor boy.

PAST:

Your lip is trembling, Scrooge. And what's that on your cheek?

SCROOGE:

It's-- Nothing, nothing. I - I wish-- Ah, but it's too late now.

PAST:

What is the matter?

SCROOGE:

Nothing, nothing. There was a boy singing a Christmas carol at my door last night. I - I should like to have given him something, that's all.

PAST:

That is all? Come, Ebenezer Scrooge, let us see another Christmas.

SOUND & MUSIC:

THUNDEROUS WIND, OMINOUS MUSIC, EERILY WAILING CHORUS ... FOR A TRANSITION ... THEN ABRUPTLY CHANGES TO A CHEERFUL DANCE TUNE AND A PARTY ATMOSPHERE ... PARTY GUESTS MURMUR, IN BG--

PAST:

You know this place, Ebenezer?

SCROOGE:

(AMAZED, DELIGHTED) Know it? Know it?! This is the counting-house where I was apprenticed! (CHUCKLES)

PAST:

Listen--

FEZZIWIG:

(CALLS, TO ALL) Hallo! Choose your partners!

SOUND:

PARTY GUESTS EXPRESS DELIGHT

SCROOGE:

(STUNNED) And it's-- It's my old master, bless his heart! My old master alive again! (CHUCKLES) And then we -- his clerks -- so full of joy on Christmas Eve.

FEZZIWIG:

Advance and retire! Hold hands with your partner! Bow and curtsey! Corkscrew! Thread the needle and back to your places!

PAST:

Look, Scrooge. Look at that carefree young man with the light heart and the gay smile. Do you recognize him, Ebenezer?

SCROOGE:

(UNEASY) Yes, yes--

PAST:

What is the matter, Ebenezer?

SCROOGE:

Nothing. Nothing particular.

PAST:

Something, I think?

SCROOGE:

No, no, no. Only, I - I should like to be able to say a word or two - to my clerk, Bob Cratchit, that's all. That's all.

FEZZIWIG:

Hold hands with your partner! Advance and retire! Bow and curtsey! Thread the needle!

SOUND & MUSIC:

SCENE SLOWLY FADES OUT AS THUNDEROUS WIND COMES UP DURING FOLLOWING--

PAST:

My time grows short. And we have yet another journey to make.

SCROOGE:

Where now?

PAST:

Come.

SOUND & MUSIC:

CRASH! OF THUNDEROUS WIND, WITH OMINOUS MUSIC AND EERILY WAILING CHORUS ... FOR A TRANSITION ... THEN GROWS QUIET BEHIND NARRATOR, THEN QUIETER IN BG OF FOLLOWING SCENE--

NARRATOR:

Again Scrooge saw himself in a room that was vaguely familiar. He was an older man -- a man in the prime of his life. He was not alone, but sat by the side of a fair young girl. There were tears in her eyes.

BELLE:

(FADES IN) It matters little, Ebenezer, to you. Very little, I know. Another idol has displaced me; and if it can cheer and comfort you in time to come, as I would have tried to do, I have no just cause to grieve.

SCROOGE:

(A YOUNGER VOICE) What idol has displaced you?

BELLE:

A golden one.

SCROOGE:

Belle, listen to me. There's nothing the world's so hard on as poverty, and yet nothing it pretends to condemn so much as the pursuit of wealth.

BELLE:

The world again? You fear the world too much, Ebenezer!

SCROOGE:

Belle--? Have I changed towards you?

BELLE:

When we were engaged, we were both poor.

SCROOGE:

Was it better then? Belle, was it better to be poor?

BELLE:

Better at least to be happy. You're changed. You were another man then.

SCROOGE:

I was a boy. Do you blame me because I've grown wiser? Have I ever tried to break our engagement?

BELLE:

In words? No. Never.

SCROOGE:

In what then?

BELLE:

In a changed nature. In an altered spirit. In everything that made my love of any value in your sight. So - I release you from your promise.

SCROOGE:

(DISMAYED) Belle! Belle! I love you still!

BELLE:

Oh, at first it may cause you pain to lose me. A very brief pain. But soon it will be dim, like a half-remembered dream. An unprofitable dream. And you'll be glad to be awake from such a dream. May you be happy in the life you have chosen, Ebenezer -- for the love of him you once were.

SOUND & MUSIC:

SCENE FADES OUT AS WIND-MUSIC-CHORUS FADES UP AND CONTINUES IN BG

SCROOGE:

Spirit! Spirit! It is enough! Show me no more!

PAST:

These were shadows of the things that have been! That they are what they are, do not blame me!

SCROOGE:

No more! No more!

PAST:

One shadow more! Come!

SOUND & MUSIC:

CRASH! OF THUNDEROUS WIND, WITH OMINOUS MUSIC AND EERILY WAILING CHORUS ... FOR A TRANSITION ... CHORUS FADES OUT, WIND AND MUSIC QUIETER BEHIND NARRATOR ... THEN IN BG--

NARRATOR:

The relentless ghost pinioned him in both his arms, and forced him to observe what happened next. They were in a room, not very large or handsome, but full of comfort. All around them were the voices of children talking and laughing. And before the winter fire sat a beautiful young girl so like the last that Scrooge believed it WAS the same, until he saw HER, the girl he had been betrothed to -- now a handsome, middle-aged woman, sitting with her husband at their own fireside.

PAST:

Do you see this man, Ebenezer Scrooge? This man might have been you. And that girl. That girl might have been your daughter, Ebenezer Scrooge. She might have called you father! She might have been a springtime in the haggard winter of your life.

SCROOGE:

Spirit, let me go! Show me no more!

PAST:

Listen now while they speak, Ebenezer.

SOUND & MUSIC:

WIND DOWN ... OMINOUS MUSIC TURNS WARM AND LOVING

ROBERT:

Belle, I saw an old friend of yours today.

BELLE:

Who was it?

ROBERT:

Guess!

BELLE:

How can I? Oh! I know! (CHUCKLES) Mr. Scrooge!

ROBERT:

Mr. Scrooge it was. I passed his office window. It wasn't shuttered, and there was a candle inside, so I couldn't help seeing him. His partner lies at the point of death, I hear. And there Scrooge sat -- all alone. Quite alone in the world, I do believe.

SOUND & MUSIC:

WIND UP ... MUSIC TURNS UNEASY, IN BG

SCROOGE:

Spirit! Spirit, remove me! Haunt me no more! Leave me! Take me back! Take me back!

SOUND & MUSIC:

WIND AND UNEASY MUSIC ... UP BRIEFLY, THEN BEHIND NARRATOR--

NARRATOR:

In his anguish Scrooge began to struggle with the Ghost of Christmas Past. The lights in the crown of its head burned high and bright. Scrooge, in a last desperate effort, tore the extinguisher cap from its hand, and by a sudden action pressed it down upon its head.

SOUND & MUSIC:

ABRUPTLY OUT

NARRATOR:

And Scrooge was conscious of being exhausted and overcome by irresistible drowsiness, and further, of being in his own bedroom. He gave the cap a parting squeeze, in which his hand relaxed, and had barely time to reel to bed, before he sank into a heavy sleep. (BEAT) The stroke of one awakened him and sat him bolt upright in his bed.

SOUND:

ECHOING CLOCK STRIKES ONE ... LOW AND OMINOUS

MUSIC:

BIG ACCENT! ... THEN ORCHESTRA PLAYS "HARK! THE HERALD ANGELS SING" ... THEN IN BG--

ANNOUNCER:

We pause now for station identification. This is the COLUMBIA BROADCASTING SYSTEM.

MUSIC:

UP TO FILL A PAUSE FOR STATION IDENTIFICATION ... THEN BEHIND ANNOUNCER--

ANNOUNCER:

You are listening to the fourth annual presentation of Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol," brought to by the makers of Campbell's Soups. We return you now to the Campbell Playhouse and Orson Welles.

SOUND:

ECHOING CLOCK STRIKES ONE ... LOW AND OMINOUS

MUSIC:

SOMBER ... THEN BEHIND NARRATOR--

NARRATOR:

On the stroke of one, Scrooge had awakened suddenly and had sat bolt upright in his own bed. He remembered the words of Marley's ghost and wondered from which direction the second specter would appear. He drew aside the curtains and established a sharp lookout all around the bed. At that moment nothing between a baby and a rhinoceros would have astonished him very much. Now, being prepared for almost anything, he was not by any means prepared for nothing; and, consequently, when no shape appeared he was taken with a violent fit of trembling.

Five minutes. Ten minutes. A quarter of an hour went by. Yet nothing came. And all this time he sat upon the bed, with his night-cap upon his head, the very core and center of a blaze of ruddy light, which streamed upon it. Being only light, this was more alarming than a dozen ghosts. As he was powerless to make out what it meant, he began to think that the source of this ghostly light might be in the adjoining room, from whence, on further tracing, it seemed to shine. He got up softly and shuffled in his slippers to the door. It was his own sitting-room. There was no doubt about that. But it had undergone a surprising transformation.

The walls and ceiling were so hung with living green, that it looked a perfect grove; from every part of which, bright gleaming berries glistened. And such a mighty blaze went roaring up the chimney as had never been known in Scrooge's time, or for many and many a winter season gone. Heaped upon the floor, to form a kind of throne, were turkeys, geese, game, poultry, great joints of meat, sucking-pigs, long wreaths of sausages, mince-pies, plum-puddings, barrels of oysters, red-hot chestnuts, and seething bowls of punch, that made the chamber dim with their delicious steam. And in easy state upon this couch, there sat a jolly Giant, glorious to see; who bore a glowing torch, in shape not unlike Plenty's horn, and held it up, high up, to shed its light on Scrooge, as he came peeping 'round the door.

SOUND:

GHOSTLY WIND, IN BG

PRESENT:

Come in! Come in, Ebenezer Scrooge, and know me better, man!

SCROOGE:

(MEEKLY) You're-- You're--?

PRESENT:

I am the Ghost of Christmas Present. Look upon me! You've never seen the like of me before!

SCROOGE:

Spirit--? Spirit, conduct me where you will. I went forth last time on compulsion, and learnt a lesson which is working now. If tonight you have anything to teach me, let me profit by it.

PRESENT:

Touch my robe, Ebenezer Scrooge -- touch my robe!

SOUND:

CRASH! OF THUNDEROUS WIND ... FOR A TRANSITION, THEN IN BG

MUSIC:

MYSTICAL, IN BG ... UNTIL CHURCH BELLS CHIME

NARRATOR:

The room vanished -- so did the fire, the ruddy glow, the hour of night -- vanished. Sunlight brushed them as they streamed through the clear morning air.

SOUND:

VOICES FAR BELOW, SINGING AND SHOUTING, IN AGREEMENT WITH FOLLOWING--

NARRATOR:

The second specter flew at a more leisurely speed, and Scrooge had time to observe people below him shoveling snow on the city roofs, calling out to one another from the parapets, and now and then pelting each other with snowballs.

SOUND:

VARIOUS CHURCH BELLS CHIME FAR BELOW, IN BG

NARRATOR:

In the streets below them the poulterers shops were still half open, and the fruiterers were radiant in their holiday glory. Scrooge and his ghostly guide circled the tall spires as the steeples called good people all, to church or chapel.

SOUND:

DURING ABOVE, VOICES BUILD INTO "HARK! THE HERALD ANGELS SING" ... THEN VOICES AND BELLS UP TO FILL A PAUSE--

VOICES:

Pleased as man with man to dwell,
Jesus, our Emmanuel.
Hark! The herald-angels sing,
"Glory to the newborn King!"

SOUND:

VOICES AND BELLS AND WIND FADE BEHIND NARRATOR--

NARRATOR:

And there below them lay Camden Town with its squalid streets of ugly frame houses. Of all these dwellings the ghost selected the humblest for their visit.

MUSIC:

MYSTICAL ... BEHIND NARRATOR--

NARRATOR:

Scrooge, by now past all surprise, recognized Bob Cratchit's wife, dressed in a twice-turned gown, but brave in ribbons, busily laying the table. Assisting her was Belinda Cratchit, second of her daughters, also brave in ribbons, while Master Peter Cratchit plunged a fork into the saucepan of potatoes. And now two smaller Cratchits, boy and girl, came tearing in, screaming that outside the baker's they had smelled a goose and known it for their own, and now basking in luxurious thoughts of sage and onions. And three more young Cratchits danced about the table. Then, once more, the door opened--

SOUND:

DOOR OPENS ... THE NOISY CRATCHIT CHILDREN CHATTER HAPPILY, GREETING MARTHA--

GIRL:

Martha, we've got a goose! Wait'll you see it, Martha!

SOUND:

DOOR CLOSES ... CHILDREN GROW QUIET BEHIND--

MRS. C.:

Quiet, children! Quiet! Why, bless your heart alive, Martha, my dear, how late you are. Merry Christmas to you!

MARTHA:

Merry Christmas, Mother.

SOUND:

CHILDREN RESPOND IN KIND ("Merry Christmas!") ... THEN CHATTER QUIETLY, IN BG

MRS. C.:

How late you are, Martha.

MARTHA:

(SIGHS) Oh, we had a deal of work to finish up last night and we had to clear away this morning.

MRS. C.:

Well, never mind, so long as you're here now. Sit ye down before the fire and have a warm, Lord bless you.

MARTHA:

But where's Father?

MRS. C.:

He's been to church with Tiny Tim.

MARTHA:

Oh.

MRS. C.:

They'll be along directly.

MARTHA:

How IS Tiny Tim, Mother? Any better at all?

MRS. C.:

(WITH DIFFICULTY) Sometimes I think he is, and sometimes-- Sometimes I think-- Oh, dear God, if anything should happen to Tiny Tim-- If Tiny Tim should die--

MARTHA:

(QUIETLY) Mother! You mustn't even think of such a thing.

BOY:

Here they come!

GIRL:

Oh, Father and Tiny Tim!

SOUND:

CHILDREN CHATTER BRIEFLY AND EXCITEDLY AS DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES

BOB:

Merry Christmas, everybody! (PLEASED) Martha!

MARTHA:

Merry Christmas, Father! And Tim!

TIM:

Merry Christmas, Martha!

SOUND:

THE FAMILY CHUCKLES ... THEN CHATTERS BEHIND NARRATOR--

NARRATOR:

And there was Bob Cratchit, with at least three feet of comforter exclusive of the fringe, hanging down before him; and his threadbare clothes darned up and brushed, to look seasonable; and Tiny Tim upon his shoulder. Poor Tiny Tim. He carried a little crutch and had his limbs supported by an iron frame.

SOUND:

FAMILY GROWS QUIET BEHIND--

MRS. C.:

And how did little Tim behave in church, Bob?

TIM:

Oh, I liked church, Mother. Oh, they sang the nicest hymns. And the people were so kind to me. It was such fun riding home on Daddy's shoulder.

BOB:

He behaved as good as gold, and better. Somehow he gets thoughtful, sitting by himself so much, and thinks the strangest things you ever heard. He told me coming home, that he hoped people saw him in church, because he was lame, and it might be pleasant for them to remember, on Christmas Day, who made lame beggars walk and blind men see.

MARTHA:

Tim, you darling!

GIRL:

(IMPATIENT) Mother! The goose is ready!

SOUND:

CHILDREN MURMUR EXCITEDLY, IN BG

BOY:

The goose, mother!

GIRL:

Mother, I'm hungry. The goooooose!

MRS. C.:

Oh, yes, children! All ready! Come, take your places, and wait your turn! There's plenty of stuffing and dressing and plum-pudding for all of you!

SOUND:

CHILDREN EXCLAIM THEIR APPROVAL ... CONTINUE TO MURMUR EXCITEDLY, IN BG

MRS. C.:

Now, Martha, you take care of Tiny Tim. That's right. And see that he eats plenty. He must get strong and well.

BOB:

Now shall we say grace?

MRS. C.:

Yes, Bob.

SOUND:

FAMILY GROWS SILENT

BOB:

Our Father Who art in Heaven, we thank Thee for the daily bread which, in Thy mercy, Thou dost give to us. Bless us this Christmas Day. Keep us all together so that for many years to come, we may unite here to do Thy will and praise Thy name. Amen.

ALL:

Amen!

BOB:

And now, my dears, with such a dinner -- a toast! A merry Christmas to us all, and God bless us!

SOUND:

CHILDREN MURMUR QUIETLY

GIRL:

God bless us.

TIM:

God bless us every one!

BOB:

And now to Mr. Scrooge! I'll give you a toast to Mr. Scrooge, the Founder of the Feast!

MRS. C.:

The Founder of the Feast indeed! Who pays you all of fifteen shillings a week? I wish I had him here! I'd give him a piece of my mind to "feast" on, and I hope he'd have a good appetite for it!

BOB:

(PLEADS) My dear! The children! Christmas Day.

MRS. C.:

Well, it should be Christmas Day, I'm sure, on which one drinks the health of such an odious, stingy, unfeeling man as Mr. Scrooge! You know he is, Bob! Nobody knows it better than you, poor fellow.

BOB:

(PLEADS MILDLY) My dear -- Christmas Day!

MRS. C.:

Well, 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.

TIM:

And I say God bless him, too, Mother -- and every one!

MUSIC:

GENTLE .. THEN BEHIND NARRATOR--

NARRATOR:

There was nothing of high mark in all this. They were not a handsome family, these Cratchits. They were not well-dressed; their shoes were far from being waterproof; their clothes were scanty and had known, very likely, the inside of a pawn-broker's. But they were happy, grateful, pleased with one another, and contented with the time. And when at last they faded, Scrooge had his eye upon them, and especially on Tiny Tim, until the last.

SOUND:

CRISP WIND ... THEN IN BG

SCROOGE:

Spirit! Spirit? Tell me if-- Tell me if Tiny Tim will live!

PRESENT:

I see a vacant seat in the poor chimney-corner, and a crutch without an owner, carefully preserved.

SCROOGE:

No, no, no, kind Spirit, say he will be spared. Say he will live.

PRESENT:

If these shadows remain unaltered by the Future, the child will die.

MUSIC:

TRANSITION ... FOR TRAVELING BY AIR ... THEN IN BG--

SOUND:

WIND UP WITH TRANSITION ... THEN CONTINUING IN BG, OUT AT [Y] ... FADE IN VOICES SINGING A HYMN A CAPPELLA, IN BG, STARTING AT [X]

NARRATOR:

Many calls Scrooge made that night with the Ghost of Christmas Present. Now he stood upon a bleak and desert moor where monstrous masses of rude stone were cast about as though it were the burial place of giants. [X] Down in the west the setting sun had left a streak of fiery red which glared upon the desolation for an instant like a sullen eye, then was lost in the thick gloom of darkest night. A light shone from the window of a hut. [Y] Passing through the wall of mud and stone, they found a cheerful company assembled around a glowing fire: an old, old man and woman with their children and their children's children, all decked out gaily in their holiday attire.

PRESENT:

In this place, Ebenezer Scrooge, the miners live, who labor in the bowels of the earth. Still they know me. Do you hear?

SOUND:

SINGING VOICES FADE OUT ... WIND RESUMES, IN BG

NARRATOR:

The spirit did not tarry here, but bade Scrooge hold his robe and passing on above the moor, they sped on. Whither?

SOUND:

CRASH! OF OCEAN WAVES ... WHICH CONTINUES IN BG

NARRATOR:

Not to sea? (BEAT) To sea. To Scrooge's horror, looking back he saw the last of the land. Below him were the waves breaking upon a frightful range of rocks! But built upon a dismal reef of sunken stones, some league or so from shore, there stood a solitary lighthouse.

SOUND:

MEN'S VOICES SING A CAPPELLA "I SAW THREE SHIPS COME SAILING IN ON CHRISTMAS DAY"

NARRATOR:

Greet heaps of sea-weed clung to its base, and storm-birds born of the wind, rose and fell about it like the waves they skimmed.

SOUND:

BIRDS CHATTER BRIEFLY ... MEN'S VOICES FADE OUT ... WAVES OUT ... RUSH OF WIND UP, THEN IN BG ... SHIP CREAKS AND BELLS RING BEHIND NARRATOR--

NARRATOR:

Again the ghost sped on above the dark and heaving sea -- on and on, until they lighted on a ship. They stood beside the helmsman at the wheel, the look-out in the bow, the men who had the watch -- dark ghostly figures in their several stations.

PRESENT:

Come!

SOUND & MUSIC:

THUNDEROUS WIND AND OMINOUS MUSIC UP BIG AND OUT ... CRISP WIND, IN BG

NARRATOR:

Much they saw and far they went, and many places they visited, but always with a happy end. The Spirit stood beside sick beds and they were cheerful; on foreign lands and they were close at home; by poverty and it was rich. In alms-house, hospital, and gaol, where vain man in his little brief authority had not made fast the door and barred the Spirit out, he left his blessing. It was a long night, if it WERE only a night. And it was strange, too, that while Scrooge remained unaltered in his outward form, the Ghost grew older, clearly older.

PRESENT:

My life upon this globe is very brief, Ebenezer. It ends tonight.

SCROOGE:

Tonight?

PRESENT:

Tonight at midnight.

SOUND:

CLOCK GENTLY AND BRISKLY CHIMES TWELVE, IN BG

PRESENT:

Hark! The hour is come.

SCROOGE:

Not yet! Not yet! There are still more things I wish to learn.

PRESENT:

These you will learn from still another spirit. Still another spirit, Ebenezer.

SOUND:

CHIMING CLOCK UP, TO FILL A PAUSE ... THE FINAL CHIME IS HELD A MOMENT ... THEN OUT

NARRATOR:

Scrooge looked about him for the Ghost. It had vanished. And he found himself once more in his bed, in his dressing-gown, and his night-cap on his head.

SOUND:

ECHOING CLOCK STRIKES ONE ... LOW AND OMINOUS

NARRATOR:

He heard the clock strike. And then he remembered the prediction of old Jacob Marley, and, lifting up his eyes, beheld a solemn Phantom, draped and hooded, coming toward him like a mist along the ground.

MUSIC:

FOR GHOST ... LOW TYMPANI AND PLAINTIVE STRINGS ... THEN IN BG

NARRATOR:

The Spirit slowly, gravely, silently approached. In the very air through which it moved it seemed to scatter gloom and mystery.

GHOST:

I am the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. Ebenezer Scrooge, I am about to show you the shadows of the things that have not happened, but WILL happen in the time before us.

SCROOGE:

Ghost of the Future, I fear you more than any specter I've seen! Lead on! Lead on! The night is waning fast, and it is precious time!

SOUND:

CRISP WIND, THEN BEHIND NARRATOR--

NARRATOR:

Scrooge followed in the shadow of its dress, which bore him up, he thought, and carried him along. And suddenly they were in a room which Scrooge seemed to remember having seen before -- where a woman and a child were.

MUSIC:

CHANGES TO WARM AND LOVING, IN BG

MRS. C.:

(WEEPS) Oh, my son! My little son! Tiny Tim! I loved him so! (WEEPS, IN BG)

MARTHA:

(COMFORTING) Mother dear -- you mustn't. It's almost time for father to be home. Don't let him see you crying.

MRS. C.:

Yes, Martha. (BEAT) He's late tonight. He walks slower than he used to. And yet, I've known him to walk very fast indeed -- with Tiny Tim on his shoulder.

MARTHA:

So have I, mother!

MRS. C.:

But he was light to carry. And his father loved him so, that it was no trouble. No trouble at all. (BEAT) Bob!

BOB:

(GENTLY) Good evening, my dear.

MRS. C.:

You're late, Bob.

BOB:

I'm sorry, my dear. I went-- I went to the churchyard today. I wish you could have gone with me. It would have done your heart good to see how sweet and green a place it is. But you'll see it often. I promised him-- I promised Tiny Tim we'd walk there on a Sunday.

MRS. C.:

(SOBS) Oh, Bob--! Bob!

BOB:

It's God's will, my dear.

MRS. C.:

Oh, my son! My little son! Tiny Tim-- I loved him so. (WEEPS)

MUSIC:

PLAINTIVE ... TO FILL A PAUSE ... THEN BEHIND NARRATOR--

SOUND:

CRISP WIND, THEN BEHIND NARRATOR--

NARRATOR:

Scrooge tried to break through the shade that held him, to talk with Bob Cratchit, to speak some word of comfort, but the sleeve of the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come passed in front of him and shut the family from his view.

And now they were in an obscure part of the town where Scrooge had never been before. The ways were foul and narrow; the shops and houses wretched; the people drunken, slipshod, ugly. The whole quarter reeked with crime, with filth, and misery. Deep in this den of infamous resort, there was a low-browed, beetling pawnshop where iron, old rags, and bottles were bought. And there was an old charwoman standing at the counter.

CHARWOMAN:

Undo my bundle, Joe.

JOE:

I hope Scrooge didn't die of nothin' catchin', eh?

CHARWOMAN:

Don't be afraid! I ain't so fond of his company that I'd take a chance o' that! Ah, you may look through that shirt till your eyes ache, and you won't find a 'ole in it. It's the best he had, and a fine one, too. They'd have wasted it, if it hadn't been for me.

JOE:

What do you call a-wasting of it, Mrs. Dilber?

CHARWOMAN:

Puttin' it on him to be buried in! Somebody was fool enough to do it, but I took it off 'im again. If calico ain't good enough for such a purpose, it ain't good enough for anything. He can't look uglier than he did in that one, the old 'orror! Heh! And 'ere's 'is bed curtains. Small use 'e'll have for 'em where 'e's goin'.

JOE:

(CHUCKLES) That's the truest word you ever spoke, Mrs. Dilber!

CHARWOMAN:

So this is the end of 'im, ya see. He frightened everyone away from 'im when he was alive, to profit us when he was dead! (HALF LAUGHS, HALF HOWLS SAVAGELY)

JOE:

(LAUGHS)

MUSIC:

SOMBER ... THEN BEHIND NARRATOR--

NARRATOR:

The Phantom spread its dark robe before him for a moment like a wing, and withdrawing it revealed another place: a churchyard, walled in by houses, overrun by grass and weeds, choked up with too much burying, fat with repleted appetite. A worthy place! The Spirit stood among the graves and pointed down to one. Scrooge crept toward it, trembling as he went and, following the finger, read upon the stone of the neglected grave his own name.

SOUND:

CRISP WIND, IN BG, OUT AT [Y]--

GHOST:

"Ebenezer Scrooge."

SCROOGE:

Spirit--? Spirit, am I--? Am I the man who lay - dead - upon that bed?

NARRATOR:

The Spirit pointed from the grave to him and back again, and the upper portion of its deep black garment was contracted for an instant in its folds, as if it had inclined its head.

GHOST:

"Ebenezer Scrooge."

NARRATOR:

And then Scrooge saw an alteration in the Phantom's hood and dress. It shrank, collapsed, and dwindled into a bedpost! [Y] (BRISK) Yes! And the bedpost, was his own. The bed was his own. The room was his own. [X] Best and happiest of all, the time before him was his own to make amends in! Running to the window, he opened it.

SOUND:

DURING ABOVE AT [X], FADE IN DIN OF RINGING CHURCH BELLS ... WINDOW OPENS

NARRATOR:

He put out his head. No fog, no mist. Clear, bright, jovial, stirring, cold! Cold, piping for the blood to dance to. Golden sunlight, heavenly sky! Sweet, fresh air, merry bells! Oh, glorious, glorious!

SOUND:

BELLS CONTINUE IN BG

SCROOGE:

(CALLS) Boy! Boy! What's today?!

BOY:

(OFF) Eh? what's that, sir?

SCROOGE:

(CALLS) What day is it, my fine fellow?

BOY:

(OFF) Today? Why, it's Christmas Day!

SCROOGE:

Christmas Day?! Christmas Day! Then I haven't missed it! The Spirits have done it all in one night! All in one night! I don't know what to do! I'm as light as a feather. I'm as happy as an angel. I'm as merry as a schoolboy! Ha! A Merry Christmas to everybody! A Happy New Year! Happy New Year to all the world! Hoop! Hoop! Halloooo!

SOUND:

BELLS UP AND OUT WITH--

MUSIC:

WILD, MERRY, AND BRISK ... FOR A TRANSITION ... THEN OUT

SOUND:

SMALL CLOCK QUICKLY CHIMES NINE BETWEEN [X] AND [Y] ... BRIEFLY CHIMES THE QUARTER-HOUR AT [Z]

NARRATOR:

Next morning-- Next morning Scrooge was early at his office. He went early for a reason. [X] If he could only be there first, and catch Bob Cratchit coming late! That was the thing he'd set his heart upon. And he did it. Yes, he did! The clock struck nine. [Y] No Bob. [Z] A quarter past. No Bob. Scrooge sat with his door wide open that he might see him come in.

SOUND:

DOOR CREAKS QUIETLY OPEN ... GENTLE TINKLE OF BELL ... THEN BEHIND NARRATOR, DOOR CLOSES AND BOB HURRIEDLY ENTERS AND SITS DOWN--

NARRATOR:

At last he came. His hat was off before he opened the door. His comforter, too. He was on his stool in a jiffy, driving away with his pen as if he were trying to overtake nine o'clock.

BOB:

(TO HIMSELF) Eight and seven are fifteen, carry the one. Twenty-four, carry the two. Thirty-one and five are thirty-six.

SCROOGE:

(CALLS GRUFFLY) Hello! You! Er, Cratchit!

BOB:

(OFF) Yes, sir?

SCROOGE:

Cratchit! Step this way, Cratchit, if you please!

BOB:

(OFF) Yes, sir. Yes, sir.

SOUND:

BOB'S RELUCTANT STEPS IN

SCROOGE:

Cratchit! What do you mean by coming in at this time of day?

BOB:

I'm very sorry, sir. I am behind my time.

SCROOGE:

You are? Heh. Yes, I think you are.

BOB:

It's only once a year, Mr. Scrooge. It shall not be repeated. I was making rather merry yesterday, sir.

SCROOGE:

And I'll tell you what, my friend! I'm not going to stand this sort of thing any longer. And therefore--! (NO LONGER GRUFF) And therefore, Bob Cratchit, I am about to raise your salary!

BOB:

(TAKEN ABACK) Are you--? Are you quite yourself, sir?

SCROOGE:

No! No, thank Heaven, I'm not quite myself! Merry Christmas, Bob! Ha ha! Merry Christmas, my good fellow. A merrier Christmas than I've given you for many a year. I'll raise your salary, and we'll see what we can do for Tiny Tim and the rest of your family. Heh. We'll discuss it this very afternoon over a Christmas bowl of smoking bishop, Bob. Make up the fires! Make 'em up and buy another coal scuttle before you dot another i, Bob Cratchit!

MUSIC:

SNEAKS IN DURING ABOVE ... JAUNTY AND MERRY ... FILLS A PAUSE ... THEN IN BG, OUT AT [X]

NARRATOR:

And Scrooge was better than his word. He did it all and infinitely more. And to Tiny Tim, who did NOT die, he was a second father. He became as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a man, as the good old city knew, or any other good old city, town, or borough, in the good old world. [X] He had no further intercourse with Spirits, but lived upon the Total Abstinence Principle, ever afterwards; and it was always said of him, that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge. May that be truly said of us, and all of us! And so as Tiny Tim observed, God bless Us, Every One.

MUSIC:

A CAPPELLA CHORUS SINGS A BRIEF JOYOUS HYMN ("SING HALLELUJAH! SING HALLELUJAH! SING GLORY TO THE LORD!") ... THEN OUT

ANNOUNCER:

You have just heard the fourth annual presentation of Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol," offered for your enjoyment by the makers of Campbell's Soups. And here is Orson Welles.

WELLES:

Ladies and gentlemen, this is the first year I've shared in this happy tradition of the Campbell Playhouse, and I'm only sorry that that very, very grand actor, Lionel Barrymore, was not able to come to New York this Christmas to be part of our broadcast tonight. We're depending upon him to be with us next year as he's been in the past, and I'm looking forward to it.

And now a word about next week's show. Next Friday night, I shall have the great pleasure of welcoming as our guest star one of the most elusive stars in motion pictures, Miss Katharine Hepburn. Miss Hepburn, making her first radio appearance in more than four years, joins me in a dramatization of Ernest Hemingway's greatest novel, "A Farewell to Arms."

MUSIC:

BRISK, CHEERFUL "JINGLE BELLS" ... THEN IN BG

WELLES:

Ladies and gentlemen, the night before the night before Christmas! And all through the Campbell Playhouse not a creature is stirring that doesn't wish you a Merry Christmas. This goes for all of us -- for my sponsor, for myself, for all of us. From Johnny Dietz, who runs the machinery in the control room to Miss Hess who types the Campbell Playhouse scripts. Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas from all of us to all of you. Merry Christmas! Benny Herrmann and his band of merry melodians wish you a Merry Christmas.

MUSIC:

CACOPHONOUS NOODLING ... THEN OUT

WELLES:

Ora Nichols and her demon crew of sound technicians wish you a Merry Christmas.

SOUND:

RUMBLE OF TRAIN ... TRAIN WHISTLE ... SIREN ... CRASH! OF BROKEN DINNER PLATES

MUSIC:

"JINGLE BELLS" RETURNS BEHIND WELLES--

WELLES:

Orson Welles and his considerable aggregation of dramatic talent, including Hiram Sherman, who played Bob Cratchit, Ray Collins who was the man who asked for alms, Frank Readick who was the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come, Eustace Wyatt who was the Ghost of Christmas Present, Arthur Anderson who was the Ghost of Christmas Past, Alf Shirley who was Marley's Ghost, Alice Frost who was the charwoman, Brenda Forbes who was Mrs. Cratchit, Joseph Cotten who was Nephew Fred, Anna Stafford who was Belle, Kingsley Coulton who was Tiny Tim, and George Spelvin who was Mr. Fezziwig, all wish you a Merry Christmas!

CAST:

Merry Christmas!

WELLES:

And finally, as Tiny Tim says--

TINY TIM:

God bless us every one!

MUSIC:

JAUNTY DANCE TUNE ... FILLS A LENGTHY PAUSE ... THEN SLOWLY FADES OUT BEHIND ANNOUNCER--

ANNOUNCER:

Don't fail to listen in next Friday night when Orson Welles brings to the Campbell Playhouse Miss Katharine Hepburn in his own dramatization of Ernest Hemingway's great novel "A Farewell to Arms." This is Ernest Chappell wishing you all a very merry Christmas on behalf of the makers of Campbell's Soups.

MUSIC:

BRISK, CHEERFUL "JINGLE BELLS" FILLS A PAUSE ... THEN IN BG, UNTIL END--

CBS ANNCR:

This is the Columbia Broadcasting System.