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A Christmas Carol Audiobook Demo

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Voice Over • Audiobooks


This is an excerpt from Charles Dickens's A Christmas Carol, which I recorded and self-produced. All vocal talent heard in this excerpt is my work.

Vocal Characteristics


English (British)

Voice Age

Young Adult (18-35)


England - London (Cockney, Estuary, East End), England - Received Pronunciation (RP, BBC), Scottish


Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
Then all the Cratchit family drew round the hearth in what Bob Cratchit called a circle, meaning half a one. And it's Bob Cratchit elbows with 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 sort it out with beaming looks or the chestnuts on the fire sputtered and crackled noisily. Then Bob proposed a merry Christmas to us all, my dears, God bless us, which all the family re echoed. God bless us, everyone, 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 had not felt before. Tell me a tiny Tim will live. I see a vacant seat 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, no kind spirit say he will be spared. If these shadows remain unaltered by the future. Another of my race will find him here. What then? If he d 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. It was overcome with penitence and grief. Man, If Mandy being heart, not adamant forbear that wicked can't until you have discovered what the surplus is and where it is. Will you decide what men shall live? What men shall die? Scrooge bent before the ghost's rebuke and trembling cast his eyes upon the ground. 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 it. I hope you have a good appetite for it, my dear. The Children Christmas Day. It should be Christmas day. I'm sure on which one drinks the health of such an odious, stingy, hard, unfeeling man as Mr Scrooge. You know he is Robert. Nobody knows it, but a new do. Poor fellow. My dear Christmas Day on Rikers. Health for your sake. And the day's not for his long life to him, a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. We're very merry and very happy. I have no doubt the Children drink the toast after her. It was the first of their proceedings, which had no heartiness Tiny Tim drink at last of all. But he didn't care two pence 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 five full minutes after it had passed away. There were 10 times merrier than before, from the mere relief of Scrooge, the baleful being done with.