But he was early at the office next morning. Oh, he was early there. If he could only be there first, and catch Bob Cratchit coming late! That was the thing he had set his heart upon.
And he did it: yes, he did! The clock struck nine. No Bob. A quarter past. No Bob. He was dull eighteen minutes and a half, behind his time. Scrooge sat with his door wide open, that he might see him come into the Tank.
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.
“Hallo,” growled Scrooge, is his accustomed voice as near as he could feign it. “What do you mean by coming here at this time of day?”
“I’m very sorry, sir,” said Bob. “I AM behind my time.”
“You are?” repeated Scrooge. “Yes, I think you are. Step this way, if you please.”
“It’s only once a year, sir,” pleaded Bob, appearing from the Tank. “It shall not be repeated. I was making rather merry yesterday, sir.”
“Now, I’ll tell you what, my friend,” said Scrooge, “I am not going to stand this sort of ting any longer. And therefore,” he continued, leaping from his stool, and giving Bob such a jab in his waistcoat that he staggered back into the Tank again: “and therefore I am about to raise your salary.”
Bob trembled, and got a little nearer t the ruler. He had a momentary idea of knocking Scrooge down with it, holding him; and calling to the people in the court for help and a strait-jacket.
“A merry Christmas, Bob!” said Scrooge, with an earnestness that could not be mistaken, as he clapped him on the back. “A merrier Christmas, Bob, my good fellow, than I have given you, for many a year! I’ll raise your salary, and endeavor to assist your struggling family, and we’ll discuss your affairs this very afternoon, over a Christas bowl of smoking bishop, Bob! Make up the fires, and buy another coal-scuttle before you dot another I, Bob Cratchit!”
It’s a great scene, sometimes suspenseful in the possibility that Bob in a panic, will knock Scrooge down before the old man gets his point across. Screenwriters just love Scrooge’s “therefore” doubled, and so do the actors.
In Hicks, we dissolve from the food at Fred’s on Friday night to the food on the Cratchit table next morning. Mrs. Cratchit reminds Bob that he promised Mr. Scrooge to be all the earlier this morning. Choking down the last of his coffee, he rushes out, pausing only to let Tim put his hat on for him. The Cratchits watch from the window as he hurries out, minding the ivy pavement; Scrooge, meanwhile, peers through a grimy window to see him approach. Spying the clerk, Scrooge jumps to his accustomed position at the desk, his back to the door, trying not to successfully to stop grinning. Fortunately for his scheme, when Bob enters, the clerk, like us, can see only Scrooge’s back, just as at the beginning of the movie. Bob believes he can still slip in unobserved and, of course, is incorrect about this. “Mr. Cratchit! What do you mean by coming here at this time of day?” “I am very sorry, sir. I AM behind my time.” “I think you are, sir. I think you are!” Bob starts to explain, but Scrooge breaks in to say he is not going to take this. He thumps his desk, trying not to giggle at the effect of this. During the “therefores”, he gives Bob a playful push. Bob seizes the ruler in self-defense. When he realizes his employer has just spoken of raising his salary, he cries, “Sir! You’re joking!” “Never more serious in my life, Bob,” says Scrooge. Once Bob is convinced, he is ordered from the office to go be with his family; Scrooge even hands him his hat. “They’ll be wanting you today!” As Bob rushes out, Scrooge calls, “Merry Christmas! “Happy New Year to everyone!” “God bless us all! God bless us, every one!” We hear “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing” and then see Scrooge in church, in the same pew as Bob.
Sim I comes rushing into his office, very happy to see Bob is not present. He assumes his pose. Bob hustles faster and faster along the street, still hoping he can make it in time. Scrooge can’t help looking up. “Cratchit! You’re late!” “Sir!” “What do you mean by coming here at this time of day? Hmmmm?” The dialogue proceeds as written, through “I was making rather merry myself.” “Well, we won’t beat about the bush,” Scrooge informs him, his manner firm, businesslike. But he delivers the line about raising Bob’s salary laughing, and nodding to assure Bob he means this. Bob is not convinced, so Scrooge goes on, “I haven’t taken leave of my senses, Bob: I’ve come to them. From now on I want to try to help you raise that family of yours, id you’ll let me.” He makes a remark about a bowl of hot punch, then orders Bob to buy another coal scuttle before he dots another I, thumping the desk to emphasize this stern command. Finally believing the old man is in earnest, Bob rushes to build up the fire. Scrooge goes on laughing. “Ah,” he finally snarls to himself, “I don’t deserve to be so happy.” He tries to get back to business and gives up, throwing his pen over one shoulder. “But I can’t help it. I just can’t help it.”
In Rathbone, we watch Bob rush in and start to work, only to be called on the carpet by the boss. Scrooge is back to his finest Franz Liszt manner, and Bob is very frightened, blaming his lateness on the previous night’s merriment. You see, someone mysteriously sent them an enormous turkey, and…. Scrooge snaps that he is not going to take this any longer and then laughs, giving Bob a jab with one elbow. Bob has no idea what’s going on, his eyes widening as Scrooge lifts a cloth from the desk to reveal a punchbowl. Only when Scrooge fills a glass with punch and hands it to him does Bob begin to catch on. The two men raise their glasses in a toast and fade from view.
Sim II finds us in the office: the clock shows 9:18. The dialogue is abbreviated, with most of Bob’s mashed into one speech; he is shrinking and staring through most of this scene, looking as pitiable as at any point in the movie. He continues to back away as Scrooge turns friendly, apparently more frightened by the new Scrooge than the old one. Scrooge breaks into a booming and slightly sinister laugh; he does not mention a new coal scuttle.
In Matthau, Cratchit is rushing up the street and into the office, where he is met by his employer. “You’re late!” “Just a minute and a half: it will never happen again, sir.” Scrooge rushes into the “I’m not going to stand for this” and proceeds through THREE therefores, way over the op on every one of them, dropping next to a very mild “I’m going to raise your salary.” Stunned, Bob drops the overshoes he’s been clutching. Scrooge wishes him a merry Christas, “merrier than any I have given you. Make up the fires! And use lots of coal!” Bob is still taking this all in, asking, “But sir…is such an extravagance good for business?” Scrooge is shocked by such a mercenary thought, using it as a cue to launch into “Mankind Should Be My Business”. During this song, he ventures outside to make amends with everyone he offended earlier during the song “The Stingiest Man In Town”: the match girl, the chestnut vendor, the newsboy, the charity solicitors (not previously seen), and even the cats and dogs who sang along with the earlier song.
Scott, humming, unlocks his office and glances at the clock. “Nine o’clock. Late again, eh, Cratchit? We’ll see about that.” Cratchit runs up to the counting-house. As he takes out his key, one elbow bumps the door and it opens, dashing his hopes of being the first one there. Bracing himself, he enters quietly, apparently still hoping he can get in unobserved. A call of “Mr. Cratchit!” makes him wince. “Yes, sir.” “Do you know what time it is?” “Yes, sir.” “What time is it?” “Eighteen minutes oast the hour, sir.” “Eighteen and a half minutes past the hour. What do you mean by coming here at this time of day?” The dialogue proceeds as written through “therefore I am about to double your salary.” Scrooge tosses a small bag of coins to Bob, who looks unsure about which of them is going mad. “Double my salary, sir?” Scrooge laughs and embraces him. “I’ll double your salary for a start, and endeavor to assist your family in any way I can. And Tim will walk again, upon my life he will. But we’ll talk about it over a Christmas bowl.” He pauses, studying Bob’s face, and asks, “What’s wrong with you?” “Nothing, sir. It’s just that….” A look at Scrooge’s smile, which is broad and genuine, makes him start over: “Nothing. Thank you, sir.” Scrooge returns to business. “Make up the fire before we freeze to death. And buy some more coal before you dot another I, Bob Cratchit!”
Stewart is grave; his clock shows 9:18. Bob is in great apprehension; hurrying in, he begins to write furiously. Scrooge waits a moment and then calls “Mr. Cratchit: a word with you.” The cold, sadistic schoolmaster is back; Bob comes out of the Tank, clutching his own elbows for warmth and moral support. “What do you mean by coming here at this time of day?” “I’m very sorry, sir. I am behind my time.” “Oh, yes, you are. Indeed you are.” “It’s only once a year, sir. I was making rather merry yesterday, sir.” Bob nods along as Scrooge begins his scold. Come the line about raising the clerk’s salary, a gleeful Scrooge thumps his desk with a triumphant “Ha!” and adds “Merry Christmas, Bob!” Bob lunges for the fire irons to defend himself against the madman. Scrooge, observing this, delivers the next lines in self-defense. Bob takes a while to understand it all, but once the threat of violence subsides, Scrooge orders him to make up the fire, hands rubbing together as if the old man has noticed the cold for the first tie. Bob sets to it with a right good will.
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