SCENE IV--_Drawing room. Mr. and Mrs. Fred Merry, Miss

Julia Kemper, Miss Sarah Kemper, Mr. Thomas Topper, Mr. Henry Snapper, discovered seated around the dessert table. Servant serving coffee._

_All._ (_Laughing_) Ha, ha! ha, ha, ha, ha!

_Enter Spirit and Scrooge_, L.

_Fred._ He said Christmas was a humbug, as I live.

_All._ Ha, ha! Ha, ha, ha, ha!

_Fred._ He believed it, too.

_Mrs. M._ More shame for him, Fred!

_Fred._ He's a comical old fellow, that's the truth; and not so pleasant as he might be; however, his offenses carry their own punishment, and I have nothing to say against him.

_Mrs. M._ I'm sure he's very rich, Fred. At least you always tell _me_ so.

_Fred._ What of that, my dear. 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 the satisfaction of thinking--ha, ha, ha, ha!--that he is ever going to benefit us with it.

_Mrs. M._ I have no patience with him.

_Julia._ Neither have I for such a stingy old wretch!

_Fred._ Oh, I have. 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.

_Mrs. M._ Indeed, I think he loses a very good dinner.

_Sarah._ A much better one than he could have served up in his old dingy chambers.

_Fred._ Well, I'm very glad to hear it, because I haven't great faith in these young housekeepers. What do _you_ say, Topper?

_Topper._ A bachelor like myself is a wretched outcast, and has no right to express an opinion on such an important subject.

_Mrs. M._ Do go on, Fred. He never finishes what he begins to say. He is such a ridiculous fellow.

_Fred._ I was only going to say, that the consequence of our uncle taking 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 finds in his own thoughts, either in his moldy 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--I defy him--if he finds me going there, in good temper, year after year, and saying, Uncle Scrooge, I wish you A Merry Christmas and A Happy New Year! 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.--Come, let us have some music. Here, Thomas, clear away.

[_All rise and go to the piano. Waiter clears table during the singing of a Christmas carol or any selected piece._]

_Fred._ We must not devote the whole evening to music. Suppose we have a game?

_All._ Agreed.

_Spir._ Time flies; I have grown old. We must hasten on.

_Scro._ No, no! One half hour, Spirit, only one.

_Fred._ I have a new game to propose.

_Sarah._ What is it?

_Fred._ It is a game called Yes and No. I am to think of something and you are all to guess what it is. I am thinking of an animal, a live animal, rather a disagreeable animal, a savage animal that growls and grunts sometimes, and talks sometimes, and lives in London, and walks about the streets, and is not made a show of, and is not led by anybody and don't live in a menagerie, and is not a horse, a cow or a donkey or a bull. There, now guess?

_Mrs. M._ Is it a pig?

_Fred._ No.

_Julia._ Is it a tiger?

_Fred._ No.

_Topper._ Is it a dog?

_Fred._ No.

_Sarah._ Is it a cat?

_Snapper._ It's a monkey.

_Fred._ No.

_Mrs. M._ Is it a bear?

_Fred._ No.

_Julia._ I have found it out! I know what it is, Fred! I know what it is!

_Fred._ What is it?

_Julia._ It's your uncle Scro-o-o-oge!

_Fred._ Yes.

_All._ Ha, ha, ha! ha, ha, ha!

_Mrs. M._ It is hardly fair, you ought to have said yes, when I said, it's a bear.

_Fred._ He has given us plenty of merriment, I'm sure, and it would be ungrateful not to drink his health. Here is some mulled wine ready to our hand at the moment; and when you are ready I say uncle Scrooge! (_Servant brings wine forward._)

_All._ Well! Uncle Scrooge!

_Fred._ A Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year to the old man. He wouldn't take it from me, but may he have it, nevertheless. Uncle Scrooge!

_All._ Uncle Scrooge, uncle Scrooge!

(_Scrooge seems to make efforts to reply to the toast, while spirit drags him away._)

CURTAIN.

STAVE FOUR.