Tiny Tim

A little drummer boy.

Tiny Tim.

Charlie Brown.

Not Tiny Tim.

Charlie

Brown.

And it would be a huge Christmas hit.

And yet, you know, I don't understand why.

So your favourite to date on stage moment would be?

I was Tiny Tim in A Christmas Carol.

That's the only big thing I've done.

Very, very cool.

you're four foot

tall.

No, I mean, my Tiny Tim days are over.

Tiny Tim.

Nobody can name the good that entered the world because Ebenezer Scrooge existed.

But you go to the Cratchit home and we have little, little Tiny Tim, right? I'm sorry, Tisha, that's a terrible British accent.

That doesn't work.

Little Tiny Tim.

How is that? Better?

Yeah.

Martha dusted the hot plates.

Bob took Tiny Tim beside him in a tiny corner at the table.

The two young Cratchits set chairs for everybody, not forgetting themselves, and mounting guard upon their posts, crammed spoons into their mouths, lest they should shriek for goose before their turn came to be helped.

At last the dishes were set on, and grace was said.

It was succeeded by a breathless pause, as Mrs. Cratchit, looking slowly all along the carving-knife, prepared to plunge it in the breast.

But when she did, and when the long-expected gush of stuffing issued forth, one murmur of delight arose all round the board, and even Tiny Tim, excited by the two young Cratchits, beat on the table with the handle of his knife, and feebly cried, "Hooray!" There never was such a goose.

Bob said he didn't believe there ever was such a goose cooked.

Its tenderness and flavor, size and cheapness, were the themes of universal admiration.

My dad was Bob Cratchit.

My brother was Tiny Tim.

And my mom and my aunt and I would put on all black and move things on and off the set.

And I remember that being fun and also a little bit confusing in the same way where I loved watching the play.

"What has ever got your precious father then?" said Mrs. Cratchit.

"And your brother, Tiny Tim, and Martha, weren't as late last Christmas Day by half an hour." "Here's Martha, Mother," said a girl, appearing as she spoke.

"Here's Martha, Mother," cried the two young Cratchits.

"Hurrah! There's such a goose, Martha." "Why, bless your heart alive, my dear, how late you are," said Mrs.

"Sit ye down before the fire, my dear, and have a warm.

Lord bless ye." "No, no, there's Father coming," cried the two young Cratchits, who were everywhere at once.

"Hide, Martha, hide." So Martha hid herself, and in came little Bob, the father, with at least three feet of comforter exclusive of the fringe hanging down before him, and his threadbare clothes darned up and brushed to look seasonable, and Tiny Tim upon his shoulder.

Alas for Tiny Tim, he bore a little crutch and had his limbs supported by an iron frame.

And now two smaller Cratchits, boy and girl, came tearing in, screaming that outside the baker's they had smelt the goose.

and known it for their own and basking in the luxurious thoughts of sage and onion these young cratchits danced about the table and exalted master peter cratchit to the skies while he not proud although his collars nearly choked him blew the fire until the slow potatoes bubbling up knocked loudly at the saucepan lid to be let out and peeled what has ever gotten your precious father then said mrs cratchit and your brother tiny tim and martha warranted late last christmas day by half an hour here's martha mother said a girl appearing as she spoke here's martha mother cried two young cratchits hurrah there's such a goose martha but bless your heart alive my dear how late you are said mrs cratchit kissing her a dozen times and taking off her shawl and bonnet with her officious zeal we'd a deal of work to finish up last night replied the girl and had to clear away this morning mother well never mind so long as you are come said mrs cratchit sit ye down before the fire my dear and have a warm lord bless ye no no there's father coming cried the two young cratchits who were everywhere at once hide martha hide so martha hid herself and in came little bob the father with at least three feet of comforter exclusive of the fringe hanging down before him and his threadbare clothes darned up and brushed to look seasonable and tiny tim upon his shoulder alas for tiny tim he bore a little crutch and had his limbs supported by an iron frame why where's our martha cried bob cratchit looking round not coming said mrs cratchit not coming said bob with a sudden declension in his high spirits for he had seen tim's blood-horse all the way from church and had come home rampant not coming upon christmas day martha didn't like to see him disappointed if it were only in joke so she came up prematurely from behind the closet door and ran into his arms while the two and cratchits hustled tiny tim and bore him off into the wash-house that he might hear the pudding singing in the copper and how did little tim behave said mrs cratchit when she had rallied bob on his credulity and bob had hugged his daughter to his heart's content as good as gold said bob and better somehow he gets thoughtful sitting by himself so much and he thinks the strangest things you ever heard 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 made lame beggars walk and blind men see bob's voice was tremulous when he told them this and trembled more when he said that tiny tim was growing strong and hardy his active little crutch was heard upon the floor and back came tiny tim before another word was spoken escorted by his brothers and sister to a stool before the fire and while bob turning up his cuffs as if poor fellow they were capable of being made more shabby compounded some hot mixture in a jug with gin and lemons and stirred it round and round and put it on the hob to simmer master peter and the two ubiquitous young cratchits went to fetch the goose with which they soon returned in high procession such a bustle ensued that you might have thought the goose the rarest of all birds a feathered phenomenon to which a black swan was a matter of course and in truth it was something very like it in that house mrs cratchit made the gravy ready beforehand in a little saucepan hissing hot master peter mashed the potatoes with incredible vigour miss belinda sweetened up the apple sauce martha dusted the hot plates bob took tiny tim beside him in a tiny corner at the table and the two young cratchits set chairs for everybody not forgetting themselves and mounting guard upon their posts cramped spoons into their mouths lest they should shriek for goose before their turn came to be helped at last the dishes were set on and grace was said it was succeeded by a breathless pause as mrs cratchit looking slowly all along the carving-knife prepared to plunge it in the breast but when she did and when the long-expected gush of stuffing issued forth one murmur of delight rose all around the board and even tiny tim excited by the two young cratchits beat on the table with the handle of his knife and feebly cried hurrah there never was such a goose bob said he didn't believe there ever was such a goose cooked its tenderness and flavour size and cheapness were the themes of universal admiration eked up by apple-sauce and mashed potatoes it was a sufficient dinner for the whole family indeed as mrs cratchit said with great delight surveying one small atom of a bone upon the dish they hadn't ate it all at last Yet every one had had enough, and the youngest Cratchits in particular were steeped in sage and onion to the eyebrows.

But now, the plates being changed by Miss Belinda, Mrs. Cratchit left the room alone, too nervous to bear witness, to take the pudding up and bring it in.

Suppose it should not be done enough.

Hello, a great deal of steam.

The pudding was out of the copper.

the smell like a washing-day that was the cloth the smell like an eating-house and a pastrycook's next to each other with the laundresses next door to that that was the pudding in half a minute mrs cratchit entered flushed but smiling proudly with the pudding like a speckled cannon-ball so hard and firm blazing in half a quarter of ignited brandy and bedight with christmas holly stuck into the top oh a wonderful pudding bob cratchit said and calmly too that he regarded it as the greatest success achieved by mrs cratchit since their marriage mrs cratchit said that now that the weight was off her mind she would confess she had her doubts about the quantity of flour everybody had something to say about it but nobody said or thought it was at all a small pudding for a large family it would have been flat heresy to do so annie cratchit would have blushed to hint at such a thing at last the dinner was all done the cloth was cleared the hearth swept and the fire made up the compound in the jug was being tasted and considered perfect apples and oranges were put upon the table and the shovelful of chestnuts on the fire then all the cratchit family drew round the hearth in what bob cratchit called a circle meaning half a one and at bob cratchit's elbow stood the family display of glass two tumblers and a custard cup without a handle these held the hot stuff from the jug however as well as golden goblets would have done and bob served it out with beaming looks while the chestnuts on the fire sputtered and cracked noisily then bob proposed a merry christmas to all my dears god bless us which all the family re-echoed god bless us every one said tiny tim the last of all he sat very close to his father's side upon his little stool bob held his withered little hand in his as if he loved the child and wished to keep him by his side and dreaded that he might be taken from him spirit said scrooge with an interest he never felt before tell me if tiny tim will live i see a vacant seat replied the ghost in the poor chimney corner and a crutch without an owner carefully preserved if these shadows remain unaltered by the future the child will die no no said scrooge oh no kind spirit say he will be spared if these shadows remain unaltered by the future none other of my race returned the ghost will find him here what then if he be like to die he had better do it and decrease the surplus population scrooge hung his head to hear his own words quoted by the spirit and was overcome with penitence and grief man said the ghost if man you be in heart not adamant forbear that wicked cant until you have discovered what the surplus is and where it is will you decide what men shall live what men shall die it may be that in the sight of heaven you are more worthless and less fit to live than millions like this poor man's child oh god to hear the insect on the leaf pronouncing on the too much life amongst his hungry brothers in the dust scrooge bent before the ghost's rebuke then trembling cast his eyes upon the ground but he raised them speedily on hearing his own name mr scrooge said bob i'll give you mr scrooge the founder of the feast the founder of the feast indeed cried mrs cratchit reddening i wish i had him here i'd give him a piece of my mind to feast upon and i hope he'd have a good appetite for it my dear said bob the children christmas day it should be christmas day i'm sure said she on which one drinks to the health of such an odious stingy hard unfeeling man as mr scrooge you know he is robert nobody knows it better than you do poor fellow my dear was bob's mild answer christmas day i'll drink his health for your sake and the day's said mrs cratchit not for his long life to him a merry christmas and a happy new year he'll be very merry and very happy i have no doubt the children drank the toast after her it was the first of their proceedings which had no heartiness tiny tim drank it last of all but he didn't care twopence for it scrooge was the ogre of the family the mention of his name cast a dark shadow on the party which was not dispelled for full five minutes after it had passed away they were ten times merrier than before from the mere relief of scrooge the baleful being done with bob cratchit told him how he had a situation in his eye for master peter which would bring in if obtained full five and sixpence weekly the two young cratchits laughed tremendously at the idea of peter's being a man of business and peter himself looked thoughtfully at the fire from between his collars as if he were deliberating what particular investments he should favour when he came into the receipt of that bewildering income martha who was a poor apprentice at milliner's then told him what kind of work she had to do and how many hours she worked at a stretch and how she meant to lie abed to-morrow morning for a good long rest to-morrow being a holiday she passed at home also how she had seen a countess and a lord some days before and how the lord was much about as tall as peter at which peter pulled up his collar so high that you couldn't have seen his head if you had been there all this time the chestnuts in the jug went round and round and by and by they had a song about a lost child travelling in the snow from tiny tim who had a plaintive little voice and sang it very well indeed there was nothing of high mark in this They were not a handsome family, they were not well dressed, their shoes were far from being waterproof, their clothes were scanty, and Peter might have known and very likely did the inside of a pawnbroker's.

But they were happy, grateful, pleased with one another, and contented with the time.