As the words were spoken, they passed through the wall, and stood upon an open country road, with fields on either hand. The city had entirely vanished. Not a vestige of it was to be seen, the darkness and the mist had vanished with it, for it was a clear, cold winter day, with snow upon the ground.
“Good Heaven!” said Scrooge, clasping his hands together, as he looked about him. “I was bred in this place. I was a boy here!”
The Spirit gazed upon him mildly. Ts gentle touch, though it had been light and instantaneous, appeared still present in the old man’s sense of feeling. He was conscious of a thousand odours floating in the air, each one connected with a thousand thoughts, and hopes, and joys, and cares long, long forgotten!
“Your lip is trembling,” said the Ghost. :And what is that upon your cheek?”
Scrooge muttered, with an unusual; catching in his voice, that it was a pimple, and begged the Ghost to lead him where he would.
“You recollect the way?” inquired the Ghost.
“Remember it?” cried Scrooge with fervour—“I could walk it blindfold.”
“Strange to have forgotten it for so many years!” observed the Ghost. “Let us go on.”
They walked along the road; Scrooge recognized every gate, and post, and tree; until a little market town appeared I the distance, with ita bridge, its church, and winding river. Some shaggy ponies now were seen trotting towards the with boys upon their backs, who called to other boys in country gigs and carts, driven by farmers. All these boys were in great spirits, and shouted to each other, until the broad fields were so full of merry music, that the crisp air laughed to hear it.
“These are but the shadows of the things that have been,” said the Ghost. “They have no consciousness of us.”
The jocund travellers came on, and as they came, Scrooge knew and named them every one. Why was he rejoiced beyond all bounds to see them! Why did his cod eye glisten, and his heart leap up as they went past! Why was he filled with gladness when he heard them give each other Merry Christmas, as they parted at cross-roads and bye-ways, for their several homes! What was merry Christas to Scrooge? Out upon merry Christmas! What good had it ever done to him?
“The school is not quite deserted,” said the Ghost. “A solitary child, neglected by his friends, is left there still.”
Scrooge said he knew it. And he sobbed.
They left the high-road, by a well-remembered lane, and soon approached a mansion of dull red brick, with a little weathercock-surmounted cupola on the roof, and a bell hanging in it. It was a large house, but one of broken fortunes; for the spacious offices were but little used, their walls were damp and mossy, their windows broken, and their gates decayed. Fowls clucked and trotted in the stables; and the coach-houses and sheds were over-run with grass. Nor was it more retentive of its ancient state, within; for entering the dreary hall, and glancing through the open doors of many rooms, they found them poorly furnished, cold, and vast. There was an earthy savour in the air, a chilly bareness in the place, which associated itself somehow with too much getting up bu candle-light, and not too much to eat.
They went, the Ghost and Scrooge, across the hall, to a door at the back of the house. It opened before them, and disclosed a long, bare, melancholy room, made barer still by lines of plain deal forms and desks. At one of these a lonely boy was reading near a feeble fire; and Scrooge sat down upon a form, and wept to see his poor forgotten self as he had used to be.
Not a latent echo in the house, not a squeak and scuffle from the mice behind the panelling, not a drip from the half-thawed water-spout in the dull yard behind, not a sigh among the leafless boughs of one despondent poplar, not the idle swinging of an empty store-house door, no, not a clicking in the fire, but fell upon the heart of Scrooge with a softening influence, and gave a freer passage to his tears.
The spirit touched him on the arm, and pointed to his younger self, intent upon his reading. Suddenly a man, in foreign garments; wonderfully real and distinct to look at; stood outside the window, with an axe stuck in his belt, and leading an ass laden with wood by the bridle.
“Why, it’s Ali Baba!” Scrooge exclaimed in ecstasy. “It’s dear old honest Ali baba! Yes, yes, I know! One Christmas time, when yonder solitary child was left here all alone, he DID come, for the first time, just like that. Poor boy! And Valentine,” said Scrooge, “and his wild brother Orson; there they go! And what’s his name, who was put down in his drawers, asleep, at the Gate of Damascus; don’t you see him! And the Sultan’s Groom turned upside-down by the Genii; there he is upon his head! Serve him right. I’m glad of it. What business had HE to be married to the princess?”
To hear Scrooge expounding all the earnestness of his nature on such subjects, in a most extraordinary voice between laughing and crying; and to see his heightened and excited face; would have been a surprise to his business friends in the city, indeed.
“There’s the Parrot!” cried Scrooge. “Green body and yellow tail, with a thing like a lettuce growing out of the top of his head; there he is@ Poor Robin Crusoe, he called him, when he came home again after sailing round the island. ‘Poor Robin Crusoe, where have you been, Robin Crusoe?’ The man thought he was dreaming, but he wasn’t. It was the Parrot, you know. There was Friday, running ro his life to the little creek! Halloa! Hoop! Halloo!”
Then, with a rapidity of transition foreign to his usual character, he said, in pity for his former sef, “Poor boy!” and cried again.
“I wish” Scrooge muttered, putting his hand in his pocket, and looking about him, after drying his eyes with his cuff; “but it’s too late now.”
“What is the matter?” said the Ghost.
“Nothing,” said Scrooge. “Nothing. There was a boy singing a Christmas Carol at my door last night. I should like to have given him something; that’s all.”
The Ghost smiled thoughtfully, and waved his hand: saying as it did so, “Let us see another Christmas.”
Ever notice how, having opened the window, the Ghost doesn’t take Scrooge out that way? Anyhow, we’re done now with the prologue and introduction of characters and set-up of the situation and can now get on with the stuff the filmmakers like to play with. Those who go in for analysis love this Ghost best; they can tell us why Scrooge grew up into such a grouch. Others, looking for a quicker story, skip much of this, particularly the school section seen here. Even Dickens, in his public readings of the Carol, omitted much of this section (though he is obviously letting us know what stories HE read as a kid.)
Oddly, a lot of the versions which DO include the school leave out the punchline. (“There was a boy singing a Christas Carol at my door”). More give us Ali Baba or Robinson Crusoe, in fact, not wanting THEIR Scrooge to go so soft so fast.
Hicks fades out of his bedroom and into the next scene (which is not this one.”
Owen rises; beneath him, the roofs of London become flat, snow-covered farmland. Scrooge’s smile is brilliant. He and the Ghost come down in front of a huge manor house. “Good heavens! This is my old school! I was a boy here!” A coach passes; he calls to the boys inside (who include Dick Wilkins, to be seen again later.) The Ghost explains that these are but shadows, and so forth, asking “You know them?” “I went to school with ‘em! All of ‘em!” “Your lip is trembling.” “The cold!” “Let us continue. Do you remember this way?” “Remember it? I could walk it blindfold!” Strange to have forgotten it for so long.” She leads him on, amid heavy snow. Young Ebenezer is standing on the front stairs. “That is myself.” “WAS yourself.” Scrooge admits, with regret, “Was”. “What is that on your cheek?” “Nothing, nothing. The cold.” “Listen.” Young “Eb” is chatting with another student. Lying, he explains that he and his father talked it over, you know, and decided Christmas is really only for children; he can use the extra time for his studies. When his companion leaves, he walks, reluctantly but with dignity, back into the well-kept schoolhouse, where he stops by a window and, burying his face in his hands, sobs. This doesn’t last long; his head is up again as we move into the next scene. (By the way, after the Ghost says “Listen”, there is no sign of her or the older Scrooge anywhere.)
Sim I comes with the Ghost, shaking his head as he does so. Wind blows on them; we see hourglasses and snow, and come to a landing among snowy hils. Scrooge recognizes the place and notes that he was a boy here; the Ghost explains that these are but shadows of the things that have been. “Look, there’s my old school. How lonely and deserted it looks.” The Ghost remarks that it is not quite deserted, that a solitary boy is there: “Yourself, Ebenezer.” Scrooge slumps a bit. “I now.” They materialize inside a dim schoolroom, where adolescent Scrooge is walking to a window. The next scene will be arriving to surprise him in just a moment.
March, led through the window, walks straight into the next scene (which is not this one.) Staring at what he sees, he pushes the shutters shut behind him.
Rathbone and the Spirit vanish, and reappear in a landscape with heavy fog up to their shins. The Spirit points out a pile of buildings in the distance. “Good Heavens! I was bred in this place! I was a boy here!” “Strange to have forgotten it for so many years.” A few boys gallop silently in front of them, Scrooge watches them without comment. He is told, “These are the shadows of things that have been. They have no consciousness of us.. Let us be on.” The Spirit raises his hands, and Scrooge follows through the fog. “The school is not quite deserted. A solitary child, neglected by his friends, is left there still.” They have reached a Gothic arched window, bordered by stone laden with ivy but possessing no walls. Scrooge peers in, excited, saying “I know! It’s myself!” Inside the classroom, we see a door, school desks, a blackboard on a tripod, but, again, no walls, the fog taking their place. A youngish boy sits at a desk in the middle of all these clouds, reading; he looks to be about nine.
Magoo flies through the window and over the city into fog and spirals; he comes to rest in some place we can’t quite see until the Ghost waves her holly. “Do you know this place? Do you remember the way?” Scrooge sets off at a run through the streets of a village, calling “Merry Christmas!” to the individual shoppers until the Ghost informs him that these are but the shadows od things that have been. Soon we stand before a big red schoolhouse with the word “SCHOOL” over the door. There is a classroom with globe, blackboard, and other accoutrements, along with a solitary boy. “Do you know this child?” “The child is…young Ebenezer Scrooge! You see he is left here all alone. Nobody wants him. Poor lad.” There follows a musical number, “All Alone in the World”. Old Scrooge sings along with his younger self, while the Ghost looks on in pity. (Note that Young Ebenezer has drawn on the blackboard figures labeled “MOMA”, “POPPA”, and “SIS”; this is the only reference to Scrooge’s sister n this version. If you want to go further with the analysis, of the three figures on the board, only SIS is smiling.)
Haddrick flies from his bedroom and comes down in the rolling hills near a snowclad village. “You recollect this place?” “Remember it? I walked these streets as a boy.” The spirit explains that these are but shades of the things that have been, and goes on to say “Though we are actually here, no one can see us or hear us.” This is not, however, the village where Scrooge went to school; this is where he was apprenticed to Fezziwig, and we skip ahead to that.
Sim II encounters a blinding light and tumbles among dark rooftops. “Good heavens!” he cries, looking over snowy fields, “I was a boy here!” “Your lip is trembling. And what is that on your cheek?” “Nothing nothing. Nothing.” She explains about these being but the shadows of things that have been, and points out the school, noting that it is not quite deserted. The schoolroom is a very empty, very cold place; the only color here is in the Ali Baba visions above young ebenezer’s head as he reads. Scrooge wipes his eyes and says, “Poor boy!” “Let us see another Christmas,” says the Ghost, hurrying us to Fezziwig’s.
Finney sees a coach full of costumed boys and girls singing, followed by several similar coaches. They are rendering “Sing a Christmas Carol”, one of the more sedate numbers in this production. “Do you remember these children?” “Of course. All of them. Look! There’s my little sister!” He calls out to “Fran” and demands, “Why doesn’t she wave back?” “She cannot see you. These are but shadows of the things that have been.” Scrooge watches, and then remarks, “I could never join in those Christas parties.” The Ghost points out the school, which is “not quite empty, is it?” They find a solitary boy, neglected by his family, and watch him read a book. Scrooge murmurs “Poor boy!” and then “I wish….” The Ghost nags him until he admits that there were some boys singing outside his door; he should’ve given them something.
Matthau flies through the window into a sky of distorted buildings and a twisted clock. Scrooge declares, “I know not where you take me, yet all is strangely familiar.” “Look upon yourself when you were younger.” And on to Fezziwig’s.
McDuck flies above the rooftops, running afoul of chimney smoke on the way. He is terrified. “What’s wrong, Scrooge? I thought you enjoyed looking down on the world.” They fly straight on to Fezziwig’s.
Mist rises around Scott; we see strange shapes and then a snowy landscape. Scrooge exclaims at the cleanliness of country air. Delighted to see the passing coaches, he names the boys who pass and finally calls out to them. They do not answer. “I told you, Ebenezer. They can’t hear you.” “How happy they all seem.” “That’s right. They do.” Scrooge allows as how he could walk this way blindfold, and they move on to a cramped, ill-lit schoolroom. “Your school.” “I remember.” “And it’s Christas Day.” “There’s a boy in there,” Scrooge tells the Ghost, “Neglected.” “The boy is deserted by his friends and his family,” the Ghost reminds him. “His mother is dead,” says Scrooge, “His father bears him a grudge.” She asks why, and hears that the boy’s mother died in childbirth, giving birth to him. “Weep for the boy,” she tells Scrooge, “If the tears will come.” :He has his friends, even on tis day,” Scrooge tells herm going on to explain the boy has his beloved books. “But not a real child to talk to, not a living person,” says the Ghost. Scrooge scoffs: “Robinson Crusoe not real? And Friday? And the Parrot with the green body and yellow tail? Not real? He made do, this boy.” When the Ghost says “Let us see another Christmas”, it is with a definite air of “Okay, buster, this next one’s really gonna sting.”
Caine flies over the rooftops of London. (Dickens, having caught at the pair with a grappling hook, flies along below, knocking over chimneypots.) A brilliant light confuses Scrooge. “It cannot be dawn!” “It is the past.” They fly over trees and snowy fields to land in a farmyard complete with farm cat for a bit of business with Dickens’s sidekick Rizzo. It is the afternoon of Christmas Eve; Dickens explains about the thousand odors. In wonder, Scrooge cries, “It’s my old school! I was a boy here!” he calls out to the boys, and the Ghost explains about these being but the shadows of things that have been. They move inside; Scrooge notes the desks, and the familiar scent of chalk. “I chose my profession in this room,” he explains. The Ghosts asks if he remembers the boy as well. “Good heavens! It’s me!” Two boys hurry past the door, calling out to Ebenezer that the last coach is leaving. “Come on; he never goes home for Christmas.” Young Ebenezer whirls to shout, “Who cares about stupid old Christmas?” HE does, as a matter of fact. Old Scrooge is stricken. “I was often alone.” He rallies, though, and lies about how all this solitude gave him time to study, and get extra work done. “Let us see another Christmas in this place,” the Ghost suggests. Scrooge is not enthusiastic about the idea. “They were very much the same. Nothing ever changed.” “You changed.”
Curry flies over London; there is fog and light and suddenly Scrooge is smiling. “I was a boy here!” They come to snowy hills. “Do you recollect the way?” “Recollect it? I could walk it blindfold!” A tall red pile of a building stands all alone; the door is reached by a long flight off stairs. Scrooge is surprised to find he can walk through the door. Inside, he sniffs the air and recalls the smell of chalk dust and smoke. There are long tables; the place does have the decayed air described in the text. Debit runs at the school cat and slides through it, allowing the Ghost to explain that these are but the shadows of the things that have been. Then the Ghost points out “a small boy, all alone, neglected by his friends, rejected by the father wot left ‘im ‘ere.” “Poor forgotten boy,” sighs Scrooge, “He…I…was never invited home for the holidays.” Recalling the boy at his keyhole, he wishes he’d given the lad something. The Ghost points out that Scrooge did give him something: a fistful of coal. The Robinson Crusoe material is here, revised a bit: “You’ve been visited by Spirits before,” says the Ghost. “Don’t mock me, Spirit.” Old Scrooge’s recollections give way to young Scrooge’s reveries, which lead to a musical number extolling the adventures one can have reading alone. The boy doesn’t quite convince himself; his enthusiasm and the fire die about the same time. “Let’s see another Christmas.”
As the Ghost touches Stewart, the walls fade and become a green forest, which then whitens. Scrooge looks down to find autumn leaves brushing across the floor. When the leaves have blown away, the floor is snow. We can see now that the Ghost’s hair and sash and shoes are gold. Scrooge is stunned to recognize his surroundings. “Good heavens! I know this place! I was a boy here!” “Do you remember the way?” Scrooge replies, robustly, “Remember it? I could walk it blindfold!” Moving along, he spots the children. “I know those boys! We went to the same school!” he exclaims their names, more labeling them to prime his memory than calling to them; when he sees one of his particular friends, however, he runs after him. The Ghost must explain that these are but the shadows of the things that have been. “They can’t see us or hear us. They’re going home for the Christas holidays.” Scrooge’s face shows he thinks it completely unfair to be shut out of the festivities a second time. The Ghost turns away and Scrooge follows to a high pile of a building; part of this is in ruins. In that part which is still watertight, they find a classroom which is cluttered, but capable of producing an echo. Scrooge has to come around and gaze into the face of his younger self, perfectly amazed. The Ghost is grave. “Why didn’t you go home for Christmas?” “Wasn’t wanted. My father turned against me when my mother died. Sent me away. Didn’t want to see me, ever.” “That’s hard.” Scrooge will have none of this compassion, snapping “”Life is hard!”
Blogsy Babbles 