Subtitle The Muppet Christmas Carol -
"Scrooge!" they wailed, their voices a discordant symphony of regret. "We are here to warn you! Change your ways, or suffer our fate!" Scrooge, trembling, asked, "What must I do?"
He ran to the window and called out to a boy in the street, "What day is it, my fine fellow?" "Today?" replied the boy. "Why, it’s Christmas Day!"
And from that day forward, it was said of him that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge. He became as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a man as the good old city knew. And as Tiny Tim observed, "God bless us, every one!" subtitle The Muppet Christmas Carol
He shared his counting-house with his clerk, Bob Cratchit, a man whose kindness was as vast as his paycheck was tiny. Bob, who happened to be a frog of great character, shivered in the corner, trying to warm his hands over a single, flickering candle.
In the drafty, cobblestoned heart of London, where the fog clung to the gaslights like a cold, wet wool coat, lived a man whose heart was a frozen pea. Ebenezer Scrooge was his name, and to say he was "mean" was like saying the sun was "a bit warm." He was a tight-fisted, squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous old sinner. "Scrooge
The Ghost of Christmas Present, a giant, jolly fellow surrounded by a feast of epic proportions, showed him the joy he was missing. He saw the Cratchit family, their small home filled with warmth and love, despite their poverty. He saw Tiny Tim, Bob’s youngest son, a brave little frog with a big heart, and he felt a pang of something he hadn’t felt in years: compassion.
That night, as Scrooge sat in his lonely chambers, eating his gruel by the dying embers of a meager fire, a sound like the rattling of chains echoed through the house. The door flew open, and there, standing in the doorway, were the ghosts of his former partners, Jacob and Robert Marley. They were draped in heavy chains, forged from cashboxes, keys, padlocks, ledgers, deeds, and heavy purses wrought in steel. "Why, it’s Christmas Day
The door creaked open, and in bounced Fred, Scrooge’s nephew, a man whose smile could light up the gloomiest alley. "A Merry Christmas, uncle! God save you!" "Bah!" said Scrooge. "Humbug!"
"Scrooge!" they wailed, their voices a discordant symphony of regret. "We are here to warn you! Change your ways, or suffer our fate!" Scrooge, trembling, asked, "What must I do?"
He ran to the window and called out to a boy in the street, "What day is it, my fine fellow?" "Today?" replied the boy. "Why, it’s Christmas Day!"
And from that day forward, it was said of him that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge. He became as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a man as the good old city knew. And as Tiny Tim observed, "God bless us, every one!"
He shared his counting-house with his clerk, Bob Cratchit, a man whose kindness was as vast as his paycheck was tiny. Bob, who happened to be a frog of great character, shivered in the corner, trying to warm his hands over a single, flickering candle.
In the drafty, cobblestoned heart of London, where the fog clung to the gaslights like a cold, wet wool coat, lived a man whose heart was a frozen pea. Ebenezer Scrooge was his name, and to say he was "mean" was like saying the sun was "a bit warm." He was a tight-fisted, squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous old sinner.
The Ghost of Christmas Present, a giant, jolly fellow surrounded by a feast of epic proportions, showed him the joy he was missing. He saw the Cratchit family, their small home filled with warmth and love, despite their poverty. He saw Tiny Tim, Bob’s youngest son, a brave little frog with a big heart, and he felt a pang of something he hadn’t felt in years: compassion.
That night, as Scrooge sat in his lonely chambers, eating his gruel by the dying embers of a meager fire, a sound like the rattling of chains echoed through the house. The door flew open, and there, standing in the doorway, were the ghosts of his former partners, Jacob and Robert Marley. They were draped in heavy chains, forged from cashboxes, keys, padlocks, ledgers, deeds, and heavy purses wrought in steel.
The door creaked open, and in bounced Fred, Scrooge’s nephew, a man whose smile could light up the gloomiest alley. "A Merry Christmas, uncle! God save you!" "Bah!" said Scrooge. "Humbug!"
