While listening to "The Campbell Playhouse's" 1938 adaptation of "A Christmas Carol," the question of "Who exactly is Mrs. Dilber?" came up again.
The narrator, Orson Welles, describes the character as a "charwoman" and Old Joe calls her "Mrs. Dilber." They're the only two characters in that scene, so there's no mistaking that this version considers Mrs. Dilber to be the charwoman.
I think that in the book, Mrs. Dilber is the laundress. It's a bit hard to follow, so let's break down the original text:
Scrooge and the Phantom came into the presence of this man, just as a
woman with a heavy bundle slunk into the shop. But she had scarcely
entered, when another woman, similarly laden, came in too; and she was
closely followed by a man in faded black, who was no less startled by
the sight of them, than they had been upon the recognition of each
other. After a short period of blank astonishment, in which the old man
with the pipe had joined them, they all three burst into a laugh.
OK, so two women enter the shop.
“Let the charwoman alone to be the first!” cried she who had
entered first. “Let the laundress alone to be the second; and let
the undertaker’s man alone to be the third. Look here, old Joe,
here’s a chance! If we haven’t all three met here without
meaning it!”
The woman who entered first is the one who speaks. It's not clear yet whether she's the charwoman or the laundress, but it seems like she's the charwoman volunteering to go first.
“You couldn’t have met in a better place,” said old
Joe, removing his pipe from his mouth. “Come into the parlour. You
were made free of it long ago, you know; and the other two an’t
strangers. Stop till I shut the door of the shop. Ah! How it skreeks!
There an’t such a rusty bit of metal in the place as its own
hinges, I believe; and I’m sure there’s no such old bones
here, as mine. Ha, ha! We’re all suitable to our calling, we’re
well matched. Come into the parlour. Come into the parlour.”
The parlour was the space behind the screen of rags. The old man raked
the fire together with an old stair-rod, and having trimmed his smoky
lamp (for it was night), with the stem of his pipe, put it in his mouth
again.
While he did this, the woman who had already spoken threw her bundle on
the floor, and sat down in a flaunting manner on a stool; crossing her
elbows on her knees, and looking with a bold defiance at the other two.
“What odds then! What odds, Mrs. Dilber?” said the woman.
“Every person has a right to take care of themselves. He
always did.”
So, the woman who had already spoken, who is the one who entered first, calls the other woman "Mrs. Dilber."
“That’s true, indeed!” said the laundress. “No
man more so.”
OK, that seems to indicate that the woman who was addressed as "Mrs. Dilber" is the laundress, as the laundress is the one who answers, right?
“Why then, don’t stand staring as if you was afraid, woman;
who’s the wiser? We’re not going to pick holes in each other’s
coats, I suppose?”
This is the other woman speaking.
“No, indeed!” said Mrs. Dilber and the man together. “We
should hope not.”
“Very well, then!” cried the woman. “That’s
enough. Who’s the worse for the loss of a few things like these?
Not a dead man, I suppose.”
“No, indeed,” said Mrs. Dilber, laughing.
“If he wanted to keep ’em after he was dead, a wicked old
screw,” pursued the woman, “why wasn’t he natural in
his lifetime? If he had been, he’d have had somebody to look after
him when he was struck with Death, instead of lying gasping out his last
there, alone by himself.”
“It’s the truest word that ever was spoke,” said Mrs.
Dilber. “It’s a judgment on him.”
“I wish it was a little heavier judgment,” replied the
woman; “and it should have been, you may depend upon it, if I
could have laid my hands on anything else. Open that bundle, old Joe,
and let me know the value of it. Speak out plain. I’m not afraid
to be the first, nor afraid for them to see it. We know pretty well that
we were helping ourselves, before we met here, I believe. It’s no
sin. Open the bundle, Joe.”
So, by now we have Mrs. Dilber and the other woman going back and forth. Non-Mrs. Dilber is the one who just asked Joe to open her bundle.
But the gallantry of her friends would not allow of this; and the man in
faded black, mounting the breach first, produced his plunder. It
was not extensive. A seal or two, a pencil-case, a pair of
sleeve-buttons, and a brooch of no great value, were all. They were
severally examined and appraised by old Joe, who chalked the sums he was
disposed to give for each, upon the wall, and added them up into a total
when he found there was nothing more to come.
“That’s your account,” said Joe, “and I wouldn’t
give another sixpence, if I was to be boiled for not doing it. Who’s
next?”
Mrs. Dilber was next. Sheets and towels, a little wearing apparel, two
old-fashioned silver teaspoons, a pair of sugar-tongs, and a few boots.
Her account was stated on the wall in the same manner.
OK, Mrs. Dilber was the second to open her bundle and it did not include the bed curtains, rings and all.
“I always give too much to ladies. It’s a weakness of mine,
and that’s the way I ruin myself,” said old Joe. “That’s
your account. If you asked me for another penny, and made it an open
question, I’d repent of being so liberal and knock off
half-a-crown.”
“And now undo my bundle, Joe,” said the first woman.
So, now the first woman, who's established not to be Mrs. Dilber presents her bundle.
Joe went down on his knees for the greater convenience of opening it,
and having unfastened a great many knots, dragged out a large and heavy
roll of some dark stuff.
“What do you call this?” said Joe. “Bed-curtains!”
“Ah!” returned the woman, laughing and leaning forward on
her crossed arms. “Bed-curtains!”
“You don’t mean to say you took ’em down, rings and
all, with him lying there?” said Joe.
“Yes I do,” replied the woman. “Why not?”
“You were born to make your fortune,” said Joe, “and
you’ll certainly do it.”
“I certainly shan’t hold my hand, when I can get anything in
it by reaching it out, for the sake of such a man as He was, I promise
you, Joe,” returned the woman coolly. “Don’t drop that
oil upon the blankets, now.”
“His blankets?” asked Joe.
“Whose else’s do you think?” replied the woman.
“He isn’t likely to take cold without ’em, I dare say.”
“I hope he didn’t die of anything catching? Eh?” said
old Joe, stopping in his work, and looking up.
“Don’t you be afraid of that,” returned the woman.
“I an’t so fond of his company that I’d loiter about
him for such things, if he did. Ah! you may look through that shirt till
your eyes ache; but you won’t find a hole in it, nor a threadbare
place. It’s the best he had, and a fine one too. They’d have
wasted it, if it hadn’t been for me.”
“What do you call wasting of it?” asked old Joe.
“Putting it on him to be buried in, to be sure,” replied the
woman with a laugh. “Somebody was fool enough to do it, but I took
it off again. If calico an’t good enough for such a purpose, it
isn’t good enough for anything. It’s quite as becoming to
the body. He can’t look uglier than he did in that one.”
Scrooge listened to this dialogue in horror. As they sat grouped about
their spoil, in the scanty light afforded by the old man’s lamp,
he viewed them with a detestation and disgust, which could hardly have
been greater, though they had been obscene demons, marketing the corpse
itself.
“Ha, ha!” laughed the same woman, when old Joe, producing a
flannel bag with money in it, told out their several gains upon the
ground. “This is the end of it, you see! He frightened every one
away from him when he was alive, to profit us when he was dead! Ha, ha,
ha!”
I think that settles it, then. Mrs. Dilber is the laundress, not the charwoman, and it is that charwoman who takes the bed curtains.
Just to be sure, what's the definition of charwoman?
noun: charwoman; plural noun: charwomen
a woman employed to clean houses or offices.
Based on what a charwoman does, there's no doubt that the character of Mrs. Dilber in the 1951 movie version starring Alastair Sim is the charwoman. I think because that movie is often considered to be the definitive version, a lot of people think that Mrs. Dilber is the charwoman.
I'd even venture to say that some versions use the 1951 movie as their source rather than the actual book!
I think the 1938 radio adaptation from "The Campbell Playhouse" is the earliest case I've seen of Mrs. Dilber being the charwoman, though. Or am I forgetting something?