It was a great surprise to Scrooge, while listening to the moaning of the wind, and thinking what a solemn thing it was to move on through the lonely darkness over an unknown abyss, whose depths were secrets as profound as Death; it was a great surprise to Scrooge, while thus engaged, to hear a hearty laugh. It was a much greater surprise to Scrooge to recognize it as his own nephew’s, and to find himself in a bright, dry, gleaming room, with the Spirit standing smiling by his side, and looking at that same nephew with approving affability!
“Ha, ha!” laughed Scrooge’s nephew. “Ha, ha, ha!”
If you should happen, by any unlikely chance, to know a man more blest in a laugh than Scrooge’s nephew, all I can say is, I should like to know him, too. Introduce him to me, and I’ll cultivate his acquaintance.
It is a fair, even-handed, noble adjustment of things that while there is infection in disease and sorrow, there is nothing in the world so irresistibly contagious as laughter and good-humour. When Scrooge’s nephew laughed in this way: holding his sides, rolling his head, and twisting his face into the most extravagant contortions: Scrooge’s niece, by marriage, laughed as heartily as he. And their assembled friends being not a bit behindhand, roared out, lustily.
“Ga, ha! Gam ham ha, ha!”
“He said that Christmas was a humbug, as I live!” cried Scrooge’s nephew. “He believed it, too!”
“More shame for him, Fred!” said Scrooge’s niece, indignantly. Bless these women, they never do anything by halves. They are always in earnest.
She was very pretty: exceedingly pretty. With a dimpled, surprised-looking, capital face; a ripe little mouth, that seemed made to be kissed—as no doubt it was; all kinds of good little dots about her chin, that melted into one another when she laughed; and the sunniest pair of eyes you ever saw in any little creature’s face. Altogether, she was what you would have called provoking, you know; but satisfactory, too. Oh, perfectly satisfactory!
“He’s a comical old fellow,” said Scrooge’s nephew, “that’s the truth: and not so pleasant as he might be. However, his offences carry their own punishment, and I have nothing to say against him.”
“I am sure he is very rich, Fred,” hinted scrooge’s niece. “At least you always tell ME so.”
“What of that, my dear?” said Scrooge’s nephew. “His wealth is of no use to him. He don’t do any good with it. He don’t make himself comfortable with it. He hasn’t th satisfaction of thinking—ha, ha, ha!—that he is ever going to benefit us with it.”
“I have no patience with him,” observed Scrooge’s niece. Scrooge’s niece’s sisters, and all the other ladies, expressed the same opinion.
“Oh, I have!” said Scrooge’s nephew. “I am sorry for him; I couldn’t be angry with him if I tried. Who suffers by his ill whims? Himself, always. Here, he takes it into his head to dislike us, and he won’t come and dine with us. What’s the consequence? He don’t lose much of a dinner.”
“Indeed, I think he loses a very good dinner,” interrupted Scrooge’s niece. Everybody else said the same, and they must be allowed to have been competent judges, because they had just had dinner, and, with the dessert upon the table, were clustered around the fire, by lamplight.
“Well, I’m very glad to hear it,” said Scrooge’s nephew, “because I haven’t great faith in these young housekeepers. What do you say, Topper?”
Topper had clearly got his eye upon one of Scrooge’s niece’s sisters, for he answered that a bachelor was a wretched outcast, who had no right to express an opinion on the subject. Whereat Scrooge’s niece’s sister—the pump one with the lace tucker; not the one with the roses—blushed.
“Do go on, Fred,” said Scrooge’s niece, clapping her hands. “He never finishes what he begins to say! He is such a ridiculous fellow!”
Scrooge’s nephew revelled in another laugh, and as it was impossible to keep the infection off; though the plump sister tried hard to do it with aromatic vinegar; his example was unanimously followed.
“I was going to say,” said Scrooge’s nephew, “that the consequence of his tsking a dislike to us, and not making merry with us, is, as I think, that he loses some pleasant moments, which could do him no harm. I am sure he loses pleasanter companions than he can find in his own thoughts, either in his mouldy old office, or his dusty chambers. I mean to give him the same chance every year, whether he likes it or not, for I pity him. He may rail at Christmas till he dies, but he can’t help thinking better of it—if he finds me going there, in good temper, year after year, and saying, Uncle Scrooge, how are you? If it only puts him in the vein to leave his poor clerk fifty pounds, THAT’S something; and I think I shook him, yesterday.”
It was their turn to laugh now, at the notion of his shaking Scrooge. But being thoroughly good-natured, and not much caring what they laughed at, so that they laughed at any rate, he encouraged them in their merriment, and passed the bottle, joyously.
There’s a lot going on here, even leaving out the subplot of Topper and Scrooge’s niece’s sister, but by and large screenwriters find Fred less interesting than Bob Cratchit’s family. Fred’s whole Christmas gathering is often dropped, or abridged and tucked in ahead of the Cratchit episodes, since those are far more dramatic. Still, when twisting the knife a bit in Ebenezer Scrooge, they sometimes like to show him what Fred says about his uncle when he thinks his uncle can’t hear. Some screenwriters make him far less pleasant about the old man. I can’t believe these writers were really paying attention to the text.
March, Magoo, Haddrick, Sim II, and McDuck all omit this sequence. Caines cuts it down to Scrooge appearing with the Ghost in a nice room. Scrooge exclaims “It’s Fred! My dear nephew Fred and his wife, Clara, having Christmas with friends!” before moving on to the next section.
In Hicks, we see Fred and Mrs. Fred from below, at about the level of the tabletop. They are well dressed, laughing a good deal, and Mrs. Fred is tossing oranges or big marshmallows or fake snowballs among the guests. They are having a jolly old time. “And he said Christmas was a humbug!” Much of the dialogue follows as written, sometimes splitting the lines between Fred and one of his guests. They omit the business about not missing much of a dinner.
Owen arrives on “He said that Christmas was humbug! As id anything that gives us an excuse for this could be humbug!” Fredd’s fiancée replies as in the text. Fred answers, “Well, he has money, hasn’t he? Abd he makes no use of it: mind you, no use of it whatsoever. Therefore he is a far more pathetic and unhappy xcase than the man who has no money at all.” Thr business about not missing much of a dinner (a little rude here, as Fred is not the husband but a mere guest and prospective in-law in this version) is saved for another section.
Sim I arrives to laughter. “He said Christmas was a humbug. And he believed it, too.” Mrs. Fred replies, “I told you so.” Fred delivers the toast from the next sequence, at which his wife expresses the doubt that toasting Uncle Scrooge will do him any good; her sister adds, “I hate him.” “Oh, I forbid it,” says Fred, “I am sorry for him. I couldn’t feel angry with him if I tried. Who suffers worst by his ill whims? Himself, always. Look at the way he’s taken it into his head to disown us without a shilling and won’t even come to dinner with us. And what’s the consequence? He’s only cheated himself out of a highly indigestible dinner.” Topper, in the corner, calls it a wonderful dinner, and the sister, Miss Flora, agrees. Fred announces himself relieved to hear it, as in the text, and Topper Makes the remark about outcasts, obviously with his eye on Miss Flora. Music follows.
Rathbone and the Spirit come to a somewhat more high class window than that at the Cratchits’—it has a wrought iron railing at the base—similarly suspended in the fog. The Spirit orders Scrooge to look; when Scrooge does, we are into the next scene,
Finney is told “We have one more call to make.” They find Harry (Fred) calling for silence. “The time has come that I know you all look forward to in this house on Christmas Eve.” He then toasts his celebrated Uncle Scrooge. A guest notes “Harry, I’ve visited you every Christmas for the past five years and to this day I cannot understand this extraordinary ritual of toasting the health of your old Uncle Ebenezer.” Another guest agrees, “Everybody knows he’s the most miserable old skinflint that ever walked God’s earth.” Harry does not deny this. “He is indeed the most despicable old miser.” The Ghost laughs. “If I can wish a merry Christmas to him, who is beyond dispute the most obnoxious and parsimonious of all living creatures, then I know in my heart I am a man of good will.” Scrooge keeps rising to argue, but the Ghost calls him back, saying that, oddly enough, the boy likes him. “Besides,” Harry goes on, “I like old Scrooge. Hidden somewhere deep inside that loathsome old carcass of his there’s a different man fighting to get out.” “He may be worse than the one you know,” he is warned. Harry declares he will continue to wish his uncle a merry Christmas in the forlorn hope that Scrooge might at least raise his clerk’s salary by five shillings. Mrs. Harry now declares she’s had enough of Uncle Scrooge haunting Christmas.
Matthau is pleading “Oh, Spirit! Please take me back to my miserable room!” When the Ghost tells him, “There is another Christmas to visit, even though you refused the invitation yesterday,” he protests “Oh no!” They arrive at Fred’s home (where a portrait of Scrooge hangs in a place of honor on the wall) as Fred calls, “I give you a toast to my Uncle Scrooge!” Mrs. Fred declines to drink the toast. “Have pity on him my dear.” “Pity? On someone so rich?” Fred explains how the money does Scrooge no good, and then cries, “To Uncle Scrooge! May he some day know I love him!” The guests are utterly unenthusiastic; Scrooge snuffles a bit. “Why this remorse?” the Ghost remands. “He gave me a gift. I threw it away!”
Scott demands “Where are we now?” “Just a street. Any street. This house. We’ll go in here. I think it might amuse you.” “I’m in no mood to be amused.” The Ghost is laughed, and is reinforced y laughter inside. Mrs. Fred, at a keyboard, stops playing and asks whether her music is so funny. Fred explains about his uncle calling Christmas a humbug. “I’d very much like to meet your uncle, sir,” says a guest. Fred and Mrs. Fred share the lines about his being a comical old fellow; her sister says “I am sure he is very rich.” Fred responds with the lines about that wealth doing Scrooge no good. Scrooge snaps, “I don’t squander it, if that’s what you mean by comical.” “You mustn’t argue with those we visit,” the Ghost tells him, “It’s useless. And even tactless.” “Tact,” Scrooge replies, “Is a quality I despise.” “That I can see.” The dialogue continues as written; Scrooge grows more and more offended. Fred goes on, “The reason I talk about my uncle, sir, is that my mother, God rest her saintly soul, was very fond of him. She loved him.” Scrooge muses, “Fan loved me, and I her. Dear Fan. If only she were alive today.” “Fred looks very much like her.” “Yes, I’ve been reminded of that just recently.” “And I mean to give him,” Fred continues, “The same chance every year whether he likes it or not.” “And every year,” his wife retorts, “He’ll say: Christmas? Bah humbug!” Everyone laughs but Scrooge, who does give a rueful nod.
Curry appears amid much laughter. Fred, by his Christmas tree, quotes Scrooge’s remark about “A year older and not an hour richer.” The Ghost laughs as much as anyone at this, to which Scrooge replies, “But it is true.” “Oh, Scrooge, just listen to you!” exclaims the Ghost, “You’re so funny now, aren’t you? I just love you!” “And that Christmas was a humbug!” Fred goes on “He’s the humbug, Fred!” Scrooge tells the Ghost, “I want to go now.” Fred delivers the line about his offenses carrying their own punishment, and then proposes the toast “for my sweet mother’s sake I know it’s hard to believe, but she loved him dearly.” Scrooge murmurs, “I never realized how….” “What?” the Ghost inquires. “How much he looks like Fan.” “And with such a big heart.”
Stewart enters the house to laughter. “He said that Christmas was a humbug: he really did! The less Uncle Scrooge knows, the more stubbornly he knows it!” Mr. Bennett agrees. “Do you think he believes it? About Christmas and humbug?” “Oh, yes, he believes it.” “More shame to him!” Mr. Topper Haines and Miss Betsy agree. Scrooge is offended to hear Fred call him a comical old fellow. Topper is then sent to heat the poker for the punch; Mrs. Fred follows Fred to the punchbowl. “Why won’t you say anything against uncle Scrooge after the way he’s treated you?” Fred replies that his offenses carry their own punishment; Scrooge is confused by this. “I have no patience with the man.” Mr. Bennett also comments; the lady who spoke earlier asserts that Scrooge “leaves a bad taste in people’s eyes.” Fred says that nonetheless he will keep the door of happiness open for him. Everyone rushes to watch the poke plunged into the punch, thrilled at the bubble and hiss. When the punch is handed out, Scrooge reaches for a glass himself, but someone else takes it. The astringent woman asks Mrs. Fred why Fred defends his uncle and is told “His mother loved Scrooge when they were children.” Fred steps over to add, “And when my mother loved someone, they must have had a good heart in them, just as she did.” “And she gave that heart to you, my dear,” Mrs. Fred tells him. This affects the listeners very much. The Ghost notes, “They’re talking about your little sister, Fran, aren’t they?” “Yes, they are. I sometimes forget that Fred is her son.” “You shouldn’t.” The Ghost puts a hand on Scrooge’s shoulder. “We have to go now.”
INTERLUDE
Matthau, in tears, is admitting what he did with Fred’s gifts. The Ghost explains that gifts have been a part of Christmas since the beginning. B.A.H. Humbug sings a song at a small Nativity scene beneath Fred’s Christmas tree, “The Birthday Party of a King”. That makes this version the only one to include the manger, Santa Claus, AND Ebenezer Scrooge.
Blogsy Babbles 