Betty. Oh, Martha, there's such a goose! Isn't there, Bob?
Mrs. Cratchit (hugging and kissing Martha). Why, bless your heart alive, my dear, how late you are! (Takes off her bonnet and shawl.)
Martha. We'd a deal of work to finish up last night. I was on my feet all day. Oh, why won't people learn to do their Christmas shopping early. If they'd only stop to give a moment's thought to the poor clerks.
Mrs. Cratchit. There, there, my dear, sit ye down. Here's the big chair, Martha. (Bob has been sitting in the big chair at R., but Mrs. Cratchit simply turns it forward, letting Bob slip to the floor, and seats Martha therein.) Well, never mind, as long as you're home at last, Martha. Draw your chair up to the fire and have a warm. God bless you. How's the 'taters, Pete?
Peter (looking in kettle). Boilin', mammy, boilin'.
Martha (sitting in front of the fire). Oh, mumsy, ain't this Heavenly? Be it ever so humble there's no place like home.
Betty (at door R.). Father's coming, father's coming.
Bob. Hide yourself, Martha. Here, here. (Pulls her to L.)
Betty (helping her). Hurry up. Hide, hide! (Exit Martha at L.)
Bright music. Enter Cratchit carrying Tiny Tim on his shoulder. Tiny Tim carries a little crutch.