The Man Who Invented Christmas Page #4

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farthing for the cage.

- [wings fluttering]

- [gasps]

- [squawk]

- It was the bird, sir. It flew upstairs.

Oh, um, I'll see

that it's all cleared up.

- [squawking]

- Please, can we keep him?

Well, I, um...

[laughs]

Come on, Walter.

[sighs]

"This is not the ardor

with which a loving father..."

[sighs]

[Scrooge]

Humbug!

- What is?

- Christmas.

What about it?

Well, what is it

but an excuse

for picking a man's pocket

every 25th of December?

Yes. Keep going.

A time for paying bills

without money.

A time for finding yourself a year

older and not an hour richer.

[chuckles]

If I could work my will,

every idiot who goes about with

"Merry Christmas" on his lips

should be boiled

in his own plum pudding

and buried with a stake of holly

through his heart, he should.

[laughs] Oh, Mr. Scrooge, you and I are

going to do wonderful things together.

Oh, but he was a tight-fisted

hand at the grindstone, Scrooge.

A squeezing, wrenching,

grasping, scraping,

clutching,

covetous old sinner.

[knocking]

[Mr. Dickens]

Charles?

Hard at work?

What can I help

you with, Father?

Well, I was wondering if we might have

an extra candlestick for our room.

- Of course.

- Oh!

Cigars. Oh, yes.

I must confess,

I have acquired an irrepressible

habit of smoking whilst I write.

Dreadful habit, I know,

but...

Oh, yes.

[chuckles]

Thank you.

Hmm. Going well?

[sniffs]

Oh. [laughs]

I won't detain you.

Don't do that.

D-Don't.

- Why not?

- [man groans]

[sighs]

Too late.

[dragging, thumping]

Who is it?

Who is it?

- Bunsby?

- [thumping continues]

[groaning continues]

Clennam?

- Heep? Hexam?

- [thumping, chains clanking]

- Oh, stop, stop!

- Magwitch?

No.

Marley.

[screaming]

[groans]

Is that you, Jacob?

- You know him?

- My business partner.

Last time I saw him

he was dead as a doornail.

How do you, Jacob?

[Marley]

Business, business.

Mankind was my business.

The common welfare

was my business.

Charity...

mercy...

forbearance,

and benevolence

were all my business.

He was never one

for a straight answer.

And yet I practiced

none of them!

Come in.

Come in, please.

[groaning]

[gasps, sighs]

You are fettered.

Why?

I wear the chain

I forged in life.

I made it...

link by link,

yard by yard.

And of my own free will,

I girded it about me.

Of my own free will,

I wore it.

[wheezing groan]

Do you know the weight and length

of the chain you bear yourself?

You mean him,

surely.

Mm-mmm.

You, Charley.

Your chains,

all around you.

Past and present...

and what is to come.

[screams]

Hail to thee,

blithe turkey,

whose exquisite odors

now perfume

the circumambient air.

[inhales]

And let this day

be fragrant

with the love

we bear one another.

And may God bless us,

every one.

Every one.

[clapping]

Mr. John Dickens.

You're under arrest

for a debt of 42 pounds.

- Father!

- Charley.

Father,

tell them to stop!

Take everything

that shines, boys.

It's all right, Charley.

- Tell them to stop, Father!

- It's all right.

Please, Charley,

don't worry.

- [gasps]

- [accordion squawks]

[clock chiming]

[children shouting,

chattering]

[Charles] What about Leech

for the illustrations?

[Forster] Leech?

He's so prickly.

- And he's by no means the cheapest.

- I don't want the cheapest.

Oh, Charles, for God's sake, slow down.

You move at railway speed.

I don't want the cheapest.

I want the best.

- It's going well then?

- What?

- The book.

- It's brilliant. Best thing I've ever written.

- What, so you...

- I've got 11 pages.

- Eleven?

- Well, if it weren't for constant interruptions.

We've got my father staying with us. He

could not have come at a worse time.

Oh.

Miss Wigmore.

Ah.

- [sighs]

- Come.

Come along.

[woman chattering,

indistinct]

Who was that?

- Charlotte.

- Who?

My fiance.

I told you.

[chuckles]

Fiance?

- She's a canny lass, is she not?

- Indeed. Most amiable.

Amiable?

Why, man, she's an

angel, a sylph.

[sobbing]

She's a goddess on a...

Whatever is the matter?

Charlotte and I have come

to a parting of the ways.

- I thought you said you were engaged.

- We were.

But then her father had no intention

for her to marry the son of a butcher.

Here.

- [sniffs]

- [sighs]

Perhaps

it's for the best, eh?

The life matrimonial, it's

not for everyone, old stick.

Aye. Aye, no doubt.

So... Leech.

That's the ticket.

Four wood cuts,

four etchings.

The cover in red.

Hand-colored.

The title in rustic,

spectral writing.

The end papers to be green and

all three edges to be gilded.

Gilded?

It'll cost you.

Well, it must be exquisite.

That's why we came to you.

You'll have to sell every

copy to make your money back.

That is my intention.

You brought

the manuscript?

[stammers] I'll have

something for you in a week.

- A week?

- Mmm.

That leaves only four weeks

to do all the illustrations

and get it to the printer

in time for Christmas.

- Can you do it?

- Mr. Dickens, I'm not a hired hand.

I am an artist.

What you are asking

is impossible.

Impossible

for an ordinary man.

But you are no ordinary man,

Mr. Leech.

You are a genius.

Fifty pounds.

Paid in advance.

Plus more

for the plates.

Done.

Thank you, Mr. Leech.

Look, Charles, I don't want

to be the voice of doom,

but before we lay out

money for illustrations,

we should consider what happens

if you don't finish on time.

I will finish on time.

Quite.

Mr. Dickens. I fix the chandelier.

See?

Yes. Good.

Grazie, Signor Mazzini.

Is no problem.

Only 12 guineas extra.

[clears throat]

Wh... Tw...

- [Mr. Dickens laughing]

- I thought my father was off to the British Library.

Your sister's here, sir. Come from

Manchester with her little boy.

Ah.

- My dear sister! Ha-ha!

- Charley.

[both laugh]

Henry, how are you?

Very well,

grace be to God.

This cannot be young Master Henry.

I barely recognize you.

- How old are you now?

- Nine, if you please, sir.

Nine? I shall soon

run out of fingers.

- [laughs]

- [Henry coughing]

Excuse me, sir.

The children are having their

tea in the dining room.

Come on then, young 'un.

Up!

Mind your head.

There goes my heart.

What did

the doctor say?

He says we have to

wait and see.

Won't you

let us help?

- We'll manage.

- At least until Henry finds a new position.

Something will come up.

I'm sure of it.

You sound

just like Father.

- How is the old reprobate?

- [sighs]

"This morning I had 25 shillings in my

hand. And now, observe the vacancy."

He means no harm.

It's not enough. He bobs around

like a cork on the surface of life.

- Not a thought for the future.

- Oh, Charley.

Let it go, can't you?

[Mr. Dickens] Come on, me army!

Me landlubbers, me lovelies!

Oh! Up we go.

Ha-ha! Me landlubbers!

Come aboard my ship!

Here we go! Let's set sail!

Brail your capstan bar!

Come here, Walter.

- Brail your capstan bar!

- No one is useless in this world...

Who lightens the burden

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