y Tim, out to the wash-house.
We've got something to show you, we have. Ain't we, Bob?

BOB. You bet we have, Tiny Tim. Come and hear the Christmas pudding
singing in the wash boiler. Come on! (_Exit_ BOB, _followed by_ BETTY
_and_ TINY TIM, _at L._)

MRS. CRATCHIT (_taking Cratchit's hat and muffler and hanging them
up_). And how did Tiny Tim behave in the church, father?

CRATCHIT. As good as gold and better. Somehow he gets thoughtful,
sitting by himself so much, and thinks the strangest things you ever
heard. (_Sits at L. surrounded by all._) He told me, coming home, that
he hoped the people saw him in the church, because he was a cripple,
and it might be pleasant to them to remember upon Christmas Day, who
it was who made lame beggars walk and blind men see. (_Trembling
voice._) Little Tim is growing stronger and more hearty every day.

_Enter_ TINY TIM _from L._

TIM. I heard the pudding singing a song in the wash boiler, I did.

MRS. CRATCHIT. Everything is ready. Bob, you and Betty run across the
street to the baker's and fetch the goose.

BOB. Come on, Betty. (_Runs out R. with_ BETTY.)

MRS. CRATCHIT. I've got the gravy to heat, right away. Peter, mash the
potatoes. Belinda, sweeten up the apple sauce! Martha, the hot plates!
(_All bustle around, setting table._ CRATCHIT _with_ TIM, _on his
knee, sit before the fire._)

BELINDA. We haven't got enough chairs, mumsy.

CRATCHIT. This young shaver can sit on my knee.

MRS. CRATCHIT. Peter, set up the chairs.

_Enter_ BOB _and_ BETTY _from R. bearing a roast goose in a baking
pan._

BOB. Here it is, mumsy.

BETTY. Here's the goose. (MRS. CRATCHIT _puts it on plate on table._)

BELINDA. What a wonderful goose.

MARTHA. And how big it is! (_All take seats._)

BOB. And don't it smell good!

BETTY. Hurray for the Christmas goose.

TIM. Hurray! (CRATCHIT _makes signal, all bend heads for a silent
grace._)

CRATCHIT (_after pronounced pause_). And God bless Christmas Day.

TIM. God bless us all, every one. (CRATCHIT _and_ MRS. CRATCHIT _serve
the meal. All eat._)

CRATCHIT. I've got a situation in my eye for Master Peter.

PETER. A situation for me?

CRATCHIT. Yes, sir, for you. Full five-and-sixpence weekly.

ALL. Oh, Peter!

BOB. Peter will be a man of business, won't you, Peter?

PETER. What'll I do with all that money?

CRATCHIT. Invest it, invest it, my lad. It's a bewildering income.

MARTHA. Who do you think was in the shop ye