_Lively music. Curtain rises, showing_ SCROOGE'S _office, as before_. SCROOGE _sitting in chair, looking at back stage, the curtains of which are drawn, disclosing the_ GHOST OF CHRISTMAS PRESENT, _who sits upon a seat covered with red, his right arm leaning upon a barrel. In his lap is a bowl of steaming punch; in his left hand, a torch [red fire, such as is used in tableaux, placed in a hollow at the end of a stick, will produce the desired effect]; round him are strewn articles, such as are given for presents. After a few seconds_, CHRISTMAS PRESENT _rises, and comes forward. The curtains close._ _Spirit._ Look up, look up, and know me better, man. I am the Ghost of Christmas Present. Look upon me. (SCROOGE _slowly rises, and moves round him, looking closely at him. Music continues. This is to give an opportunity to set the stage for the next picture._) You have never seen the like of me before? _Scrooge._ Never. _Spirit._ Have never walked forth with the younger members of my family; meaning (for I am very young) my elders born in these later years? _Scrooge._ I don't think I have. I'm afraid I have not. Have you had many brothers, Spirit? _Spirit._ More than eighteen hundred. _Scrooge._ A tremendous family to provide for. Spirit, show me what you will. Last night I learnt a lesson which is working now. To-night, if you have aught to teach me, let me profit by it. _Spirit._ Look well upon the pictures I disclose. [SPIRIT _retires_ R., SCROOGE, L. (_Curtains open, disclosing_ "BOB CRATCHIT'S _Christmas_." _Table_, C., _covered with white cloth; plates_. L. _of table sits_ MARTHA, _a young lady about eighteen; brown dress, white collar and cuffs; hair neatly arranged. Beside her, a boy of ten; jacket, with an enormous dickey and black cravat; his hands raised and clasped._ R. _of table, a boy, with a large ruffled collar; his fork in his mouth. Next him, a girl of eight, with her spoon thrust into her mouth. At the farther corner of table_, R., _sits_ BOB CRATCHIT, _with_ TINY TIM _sitting upon his knee_. MRS. CRATCHIT, _dressed in plaid, stands at back of table, holding in both hands a plate bearing a plum-pudding, rather small, with a bunch of holly stuck in the top of it, and alcohol blazing around it. All eyes are fixed upon the pudding. Expression upon the faces joyful and expectant. Music lively._) _Scrooge._ It's my clerk, Bob Cratchit. _Spirit._ Ay, Bob Cratchit, who pockets on Saturdays but fifteen copies of his Christian name; and yet the Ghost of Christmas Present blesses his four-roomed house with the sprinklings of his torch. _Bob Cratchit_ (_raising a cup_). A merry Christmas to us all, my dears! God bless us! _All_ (_in picture_). God bless us! _Tiny Tim._ God bless us, every one! (_Curtain closes._)