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diff --git a/58546-0.txt b/58546-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..55bb163 --- /dev/null +++ b/58546-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11239 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 58546 *** + + + + + + + + + + + + +[Transcriber's Note: Obvious printer errors have been corrected +without note. This book was published in 1915 and is a product of its +time; it contains ethnic and racial stereotypes that modern readers +may find offensive.] + + + + +CHRISTMAS CANDLES + +_Plays for Boys and Girls_ + + +BY + +ELSIE HOBART CARTER + + +[Illustration] + + + NEW YORK + HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY + 1915 + + Copyright, 1915, + BY + HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY + + +Published November, 1915 + +Printed, November, 1922 + + + PRINTED IN THE U S A BY + THE QUINN & BODEN COMPANY + RAHWAY N J + +[Illustration: MARIE TELLS THE STORY + +_The Babushka_, Page 209] + + To the memory of + W.N.H. + who loved both plays + and players + + +Thanks are due to The Century Company; Mr. Tudor Jenks; Miss K.A. +Prichard; Mrs. Mary Wilkins Freeman; the Lothrop, Lee & Shepard +Company; Colonel Thomas E. Davis; Miss Gertrude Hall; Harper & +Brothers; the John Church Company; and the Universalist Publishing +House, for permission to use copyrighted material, as particularly +acknowledged throughout the book. + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PAGE + + SUGGESTIONS FOR PRODUCTION xv + + I. THE CHRIST-CANDLE. _In Two Scenes_ 1 + + Seventeen characters: Two, the mother and St. + Nicholas, played by adults; seven boys and + four girls from six to twelve years; four boys, + or three boys and a girl, fourteen to eighteen. + Important parts fall to three of the younger + children, two boys and one girl, and the Star-Child + must be able to sing alone. + + Setting: 1st. Snow-scene in forest. + 2nd. Interior,--a poor hovel. + Time of playing: 40 minutes. + + This play makes use of the old German belief + that the Christ-Child returns to earth each + Christmas Eve to seek shelter among men. A + little waif, lost in the snow, is refused help by + the selfishness of happiness, of ill-temper, of + poverty, of riches, and is at last received by + two little children who take him for the Holy + Child indeed. + + + II. TOINETTE AND THE ELVES. _In Two Acts_ 31 + + Ten characters: Mother's part taken by an + adult; three girls and two boys from six to + fifteen; four very little boys for elves. + + Setting: Quaint cottage interior. + Time of playing: 30 minutes. + + Toinette, pretty, dreamy, and self-absorbed, + tries the Elves' Christmas-Eve gift of fern seed, + to make her invisible, and learns that + the little brothers and sisters do not love an + impatient and unkind older one. Much + grieved, she tries through the year to correct + her faults, but is almost afraid to repeat the + experiment when the Elves again bring their + gift. The friendly Elves urge her, and the + result is so happy that Toinette and the Elves + have a gay little celebration all by themselves. + + + III. TOM'S PLAN. _In Two Acts_ 53 + + Nine characters: One adult, for Santa Claus; + four boys and four girls from six to fifteen + years. Chief part by a boy of eight or nine. + + Setting: One simple interior. + Time of playing: 25 minutes. + + Tom, hearing that Santa Claus will bring + sticks or ashes to children who are bad, can + think of no way to test the disturbing statement, + except to be as naughty as he knows + how. But Santa Claus explains matters. + + + IV. THEIR CHRISTMAS PARTY. _In Two Acts_ 73 + + Characters: One adult for Santa Claus; five + older children, two boys and three girls; two + boys and two girls, seven to nine years for + the important parts, and a dozen children + from four to ten, with no speaking parts. + + Setting: 1st. A winter street-scene. + 2nd. Simple interior. + Time of playing: 35 minutes. + + Dick and Dot, a lonely little brother and + sister, decide to share their Christmas with + two poor children, while several older friends, + hearing the children's wish for a Christmas + Party, plan, independently of each other, to + arrange for one. The result is a Christmas + surprise for everyone. + + + V. THE CHRISTMAS BROWNIE. _In One Act_ 95 + + Twenty-four characters: Santa Claus; three + older children for adults, one boy and two + girls; three boys and three girls from five to + twelve, the important parts being for two boys + of ten; four little boys and two little girls, + and eight children who can sing, for the + tableaux of the Christmas dream. + + Setting: Simple interior. + Time of playing: 40 minutes. + + Santa Claus' Brownie allows Ted to help fill + the stockings, with a result that perplexes and + disturbs their owners, and teaches Ted that it + takes thoughtfulness as well as good will to + make people happy. The Brownie's especial + gift to Ted is a Christmas Dream. + + + VI. A PURITAN CHRISTMAS. _In Two Acts_ 121 + + Twenty characters: Seven boys and four girls, + from five to twelve years; the mother, and + other adult Colonists, taken by boys and girls + from seventeen to twenty. + + Setting: One interior, a small cabin in the + early days of the Colonies. + Time of playing: 45 minutes. + + The little Puritan family, hearing from their + young mother of happy Christmas in Old England, + decide on a celebration of their own. + The Colonists, surprising them, are very + angry, and inclined to severe punishment, + until a little Indian boy, who has been befriended + by Mistress Delight and her children, + shows that, for the sake of her kindness to + him, the settlement has been spared a dreaded + Indian raid. The peace and good will of + Christmas touch the stern hearts of the Puritans, + and they end by a friendly sharing of + the festival. + + + VII. THE CHRISTMAS MONKS. _In Three Acts_ 149 + + Twenty-five characters, all but two with + speaking parts. Two may double. One adult + for the Abbot. Eight older boys, four older + girls. Seven boys, five girls, from five to ten + years. + + Setting: 1st. Roadway, outside the Convent walls. + 2nd. The Christmas garden. + 3rd. Chapel of the Convent. + Time of playing: 50 minutes. + + It is unknown to many people that the Christmas + toys grow from seed in the garden of the + Christmas Monks. The play relates the adventures + of the Prince, Peter, and Peter's little + sister, in this wonderful place. + + + VIII. THE SPELL OF CHRISTMAS. _In Two Scenes_ 179 + + Fourteen characters: Eight boys and six girls, + from six to sixteen years. Also a few voices + for the singing of the Waits' carol off stage. + + Setting: Two scenes--Seventeenth Century interiors. + Time of playing: 45 minutes. + + The old belief that at midnight on Christmas + Eve the family portraits come to life, step + down from their places, and join hands in a + stately dance, leads the children to slip out of + their beds at an unwonted hour, and so to + take a hand in the adventures of their elders, + quite beyond their ken. + + + IX. THE BABUSHKA. _A Russian Legend, in One Scene_ 209 + + Twenty-four characters: One adult, or older + girl, able to bring intelligence and sympathy to + the part of the mysterious Babushka; two + men, or older boys; five boys and four girls, + from six to fourteen; and village children, + five boys, seven girls. One of the men and + one boy, the village fiddlers, should be able to + play their violins to accompany the carol. + + Setting: Interior,--a Russian hovel. + Time of playing: 30 minutes. + + Tells the story of the strange old woman, + who, refusing at the Wise Men's call to follow + the Star to the manger of the new-born + Christ, has ever since in the winter season + wandered over the world, seeking in every + nursery, in every cradle, for the Holy Child. + + + X. A CANVAS CHRISTMAS. _In Two Acts. For a Boys' Club_ 235 + + Fourteen characters: Twelve boys, twelve to + sixteen; two little boys, six and eight. + + Setting: One scene, interior of a circus tent. + Time of playing: 40 minutes. + + Two little farm boys who have never seen + either a circus or a Christmas tree, creep into + the tent just as the discontented men are planning + rebellion against their leader. The + Christmas spirit of friendliness softens not + only the men, but the surly ringmaster, and + the strict and severe father of the boys. + + + XI. MINTY-MALVINY'S SANTA CLAUS. _In One Act_ 265 + + Seven characters: Three adults, two men, one + woman; four children, three girls, and one + boy, six to ten years. The important part of + the pickaninny taken by a girl of ten. + + Setting: Modern interior. + Time of playing: 25 minutes. + + Minty-Malviny, the little black drudge of an + old-time New Orleans boarding-house, falls + asleep on the rug of a handsome sitting-room, + and waking, takes the owner for Ole Marse + Santa Claus himself. Her faith inspires him + to play the part. + + + XII. THE HUNDRED. _In One Act_ 283 + + Six characters: Five women, one little girl of + eight or nine, who must be able to carry an + important part. + + Setting: Mrs. Darling's dressing-room. + Time of playing: 50 minutes. + + Mrs. Darling, a charming young widow with + a quick temper, has dressed a hundred dolls + for an Orphan Asylum. On Christmas Eve, + Sally, the kitchen-maid, brings a little East-side + friend to see the dolls, one of which is + accidentally broken, to the consternation of + the household. But Mrs. Darling is not the + ogress the servants believe her, and Tibbie + goes home happy, with her arms full of + dollies. + + + GENERAL NOTES 313 + + SUGGESTIONS FOR CAROLS 315 + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + + MARIE TELLS THE STORY. [_The Babushka._] _Frontispiece_ + + FACING PAGE + + HANS AND GRETEL. [_The Christmas-Candle._] 3 + + HOLLYBERRY. [_Toinette and the Elves._] 33 + + THEIR CHRISTMAS PARTY 75 + + THE BROWNIE. [_The Christmas Brownie._] 97 + + PRUDENCE. EAGLEFEATHER. [_A Puritan Christmas._] 123 + + THE PRINCE. PETER AND THE PRINCE. [_The Christmas Monks._] 151 + + ALLISON. [_The Spell of Christmas._] 181 + + + + +SUGGESTIONS FOR PRODUCTION + + +These little plays were written for the classes and clubs of a small +Sunday-school, where the Christmas celebration consisted of a play to +introduce Santa Claus and a Christmas-tree. They are equally suitable +for children at home or in day schools, and they have been so used. + +In most of the plays children greatly enjoy playing the adult parts +and do good work in them. But several of the adult rôles call for +adult players, because a deeper appreciation of the feeling contained +in the story is required than can be given by girls in their teens. +Such parts are the Babushka, the Mother in "The Christ-Candle," and +the Mother in "Toinette." Partly for the same reason, a man should be +chosen for the Abbot in "The Christmas Monks," but also his presence +will lend dignity, and much greater orderliness to rehearsals in a +play with a large cast. + +The last two plays, adapted from stories by well-known writers, +"Minty-Malviny's Santa Claus" and "The Hundred," were not especially +intended for children, but as parlor plays for home production. These +two throw heavier work upon a single child than any of the other +plays, but though they were made with special children in view, it +would not be difficult to find, in any group of children, a little +girl who could play "Minty" or "Tibbie" as well as those for whom the +parts were first made. + +The length of the cast in some of the plays need not be daunting, as +the principal characters are usually few, the minor ones often having +been introduced in answer to the frequent pleading "May _I_ be in the +'show' this year?" Though some of the parts are rather long, none are +in the least calculated to strain the actors in any way--children +act them with zest and absolute naturalness. Very little children +have sometimes done remarkable work in them--the very youngest, a +tiny girl of four, cast for "Rosalia" in "The Christmas Monks," +played also another part at twenty-four hours' notice, when a little +cousin inopportunely came down with measles on Christmas Eve. The two +children had studied together, and little "Rosalia" knew "Peggy's" +part as well as her own. + +LIGHTING. No one factor is more important for success in +producing children's plays than adequate lighting. No matter how +charmingly the setting and costuming may be carried out, no matter +how well the children may act their parts, if the audience cannot +_see_ them easily, the pains and trouble of the stage force, the best +efforts of the children, will be lost. This is an individual problem, +each case varying so much from the next that definite directions to +fit all cases cannot well be given. But the importance of this one +factor can hardly be overestimated. Fortunate indeed is the miniature +stage with footlights and upper lights so arranged that red and white +bulbs are controlled by different switches, each switch having also a +dimmer. Nor are these things so expensive as to be beyond even rather +moderate means, especially if included in the original equipment of +the stage. It is more often from lack of experience than because of +their initial cost that they are omitted. + +STAGE SETTINGS. Through the same lack of experience or +forethought, settings are often provided which are of use in the +minimum instead of the maximum number of plays. The simplest cottage +interior is more adaptable, and can be used in a greater number of +instances than the most attractive of more pronounced "sets." It is +therefore invaluable for a small stage, where perhaps but one indoor +and one outdoor scene must cover all requirements. All but two of the +plays in this volume have been acted upon such a little stage. + +DELAYS. Another point of real importance is to avoid delays. +The director should make every effort to this end by attention to +the smallest details beforehand, by preparedness when the time of +performance comes, and by perfect control of the stage forces. +Lateness in beginning, and long waits between scenes, are tedious to +any audience. They do much to dampen enthusiasm and destroy otherwise +happy impressions. Care and forethought, practice for those who +are to handle scenery, and system in the arrangement of properties +and costumes will go a long way towards the elimination of this +difficulty. + +COSTUMES AND PROPERTIES. In giving stage directions and +descriptions of costumes, the effort has been towards suggestiveness +rather than too great definiteness, and strict adherence to all +details is not necessary or intended. It is most important to +keep the Christmas spirit of the play from being smothered in the +mechanics of production. Setting and costuming may be elaborate +or simple, and every director will know his or her own resources. +Groups of people interested in such work are apt to accumulate sets +of costumes, odd properties, even pieces of furniture, which are +convertible to many other uses than those for which they were made. +Few things are really impossible to compass if one is set upon them. +A friendly janitor will spend his leisure upon stage-carpentry. +Friends rise up--or may be sought--who are interested enough to lend +their treasures, or to use their talents. One will draw a latticed +window which may be pinned or basted upon a bit of plain wall; +another will manufacture a scutcheon for the decoration of a medieval +hall, or even paint a sea scene before which Alice, the Gryphon, and +the Mock-Turtle may disport themselves. + +MATERIALS. Gifts of old silk gowns, or even scraps of +material, can all be utilized in some way. And in this connection, a +word must be said as to the value of _real_ things. Use cheese-cloth, +cambric, and canton-flannel if you must--a good variety of color may +be found in them; canton-flannel is heavy, and hangs well, and up to +a certain point they are all effective. But if better things can be +had, through gift or loan, it is a matter for rejoicing. Not only +because better materials mean softer and richer colors, but because +they very greatly improve the _texture_ of the stage picture. This +difference in quality makes a very marked difference in beauty of +effect. + +Occasionally it will be found necessary to hire costumes, and, more +often, wigs. But all such things as can be made, with help, by the +children and their friends, will add just so much to their interest +in the performance, and the good they can get from it. + +MAKE-UP. For plays produced under artificial light, some +"make-up" must be used, as otherwise faces are often pale to +ghastliness. But for children it should be put on with a very careful +and sparing hand, and except in certain character-parts, only a +little dry rouge is needed. + +REHEARSING. Children's plays should not be over-rehearsed. +The smoothness and finish which it is right to demand of older +players is hardly possible, or even desirable, for them. The charm +of their acting lies in its sweet simplicity and freshness, a part +of which is almost sure to be lost in any attempt at professional +perfection. When they weary of rehearsals, and lose their enjoyment +of them, not only are the director's troubles multiplied, but +something vital has been lost from the charm of the final performance. + +As a preliminary to rehearsals the children should be brought +together and the cast read to them, so that each child may know +just which part he or she is to act, and the play then read to them +by someone thoroughly in sympathy both with its story and with the +children themselves. In this way they most quickly catch the spirit +of the play, and are at once full of interest and ready with their +own suggestions. Then the parts may be given out, and the play +read again, each child reading his or her own part. Mistakes of +pronunciation and emphasis are thus guarded against, and the children +are ready to begin learning their parts. In the case of school plays, +where the whole group can meet daily, more than one such preliminary +reading and discussion should be held. + +If it is a possible thing, rehearse from the beginning on the stage +where the play is to be given, having scenery arranged and properties +of some sort on hand, in order that lines and action may be impressed +on the children's minds together, not learned as distinct and +separate things. Put into practice early whatever music is to be used. + +Finally, don't let the rehearsals at any time descend to the level +of mere _drill_. The director must enjoy them with the children, +establishing a happy co-operation which makes the whole work a joy +from beginning to end. They will share the spirit of adventure in the +matter of obtaining or contriving the most difficult things in the +way of costumes, scenery, and properties. Their inventiveness will +be quickened, their hands will grow skillful, and their triumphant +enjoyment of success in these preliminary labors will stimulate them +to greater success in the acting of the story. In this, they will be +quick to appreciate hints--frequently to offer them--as to the best +ways of expressing the meaning and spirit of the play, and work with +them becomes an inspiration to all alike. + +With such whole-hearted co-operation, nothing is impossible of +attainment, and the pleasure of the work more than repays ungrudging +lavishment of time, labor, patience, and love. + + + + +THE CHRIST-CANDLE + +A CHRISTMAS PLAY IN TWO SCENES + + +CHARACTERS + + MOTHER MADELON } Who live in the little black hut + HANS } in the woods. + GRETEL } + FRIEDEL, whom the Christ-Child sent. + OLD MARTA } + RICH JOHANN } Who would not share their Christmas. + CROSS JACOB } + WOODCUTTER } + THE STAR CHILD, who brought a Christmas message. + FRITZ } + HEINRICH } + OSCAR } To whom the good St. Nicholas always + KARL } comes. + JAN } + BARBARA } + KATRINA } + THE GOOD ST. NICHOLAS. + +[Illustration: HANS AND GRETEL] + + +THE CHRIST-CANDLE + + +SCENE I + +_Christmas Eve, in the forest near_ MOTHER MADELON'S +_cottage. The ground is covered with snow and the little evergreens +all about are weighted down with it. Enter_ FRITZ (_L._) +_with his brothers and sisters, laden with holly boughs and +evergreens. The boys drag a sled with a small evergreen tree on it. +As they come they sing "Softly the Echoes Come and Go."_[1] + +[Footnote 1: _Hosanna_, p. 122. New Church Board of Publication, 3 +West 29th St., New York.] + + +FRITZ. Stop here and rest, Heinrich. This is too big a load +for the little ones. + +BARBARA. Yes, Karl is all out of breath, and little Jan can +hardly keep up. + +HEINRICH [_dropping the sled rope_]. I'm not tired. I'm +going to run back to the holly trees to get a few more sprays. +[_Exit._] + +OSCAR [_who has been measuring the tree with his arm._] +Fritz, do you think the good St. Nicholas can cover such a big tree +as this? + +KARL. It's pretty big. It's bigger than me--or Katrina--I +guess it's bigger than Fritz or Barbara or Heinrich. + +KATRINA. I think it's bigger than the one St. Nicholas +filled for us last year. + +JAN. But then, you see, we are bigger children than we were +last year. + +FRITZ. But the tree is almost big enough to hold you on the top +branches, kleiner Bruder, if the good St. Nicholas wanted to put you +there. See! [_He and_ BARBARA _help_ JAN _on top of the load. Enter_ +HEINRICH _excitedly._] + +HEINRICH. Fritz, Fritz! And, Barbara, and all of you! Listen +to what I've seen. I was running over to the holly trees, you know, +when I tripped on a bit of grape-vine, and rolled over in the snow. +[_Brushes snow from his clothes._] And when I sat up there was the +queerest little black cottage right there. I do believe it just came +up out of the ground like a house in a fairy-book. + +FRITZ. Oh no, it didn't, Heinrich, it's always been there! +I've seen it many a time. + +HEINRICH. I don't believe it! Why didn't I ever see it then? + +BARBARA. Oh, never mind that! Tell us some more about the +house. + +HEINRICH. I crept up, and looked in at the window, for, of +course, I thought there might be brownies, or gnomes, or kobolds +there, and I saw---- + +CHILDREN [_breathlessly_]. What? Oh, what? + +HEINRICH. A poor woman and two little children---- + +CHILDREN [_disappointed_]. O-o-h! + +FRITZ. That all? + +HEINRICH. Just wait! They looked so poor and hungry--there +wasn't a thing on the table but a dry little loaf of bread--and only +a few little sticks on the fire. + +KATRINA. Oh, it makes me so sorry. + +HEINRICH [_shaking his head wisely_]. That's not the worst +of it. When I got to the window the two children were standing by the +mother's chair, looking up in her face and asking her something. I +couldn't hear what they said, but she shook her head oh, so sadly, +and said: "No, my little ones, the good St. Nicholas will not find +his way to us this Christmas." That's what she said! [_Silent +consternation._] + +FRITZ. What? What did you say, Heinrich? + +BARBARA. It couldn't be so! + +KARL. St. Nicholas! + +OSCAR. Not find his way everywhere! + +KATRINA. Not give them any beautiful Tannenbaum! + +FRITZ. Oh, I don't believe it! You didn't hear right! + +HEINRICH. I did. And I do believe it! You would if you had +seen how sorry they looked. + +FRITZ. Well, but--well, I don't see--well, Heinrich, it +isn't so hard to find. He _must_ come surely. + +HEINRICH. No, he isn't coming. The poor woman said so and +she must know. [_Sitting down on sled._] + +BARBARA. Yes, she must know. Father and Mother always see +the good saint first, you know, and tell him whether we've been +naughty or good. They always know whether he is coming or not. + +KATRINA. But he always _does_ come to us. + +OSCAR. Brother Fritz, Mother says the good St. Nicholas +loves to give presents to little children. Wouldn't he be sorry if +there was a house anywhere in the _world_ that he didn't know about? + +KARL. Brother Fritz, couldn't _we_ show him the way? + +FRITZ [_claps him on the shoulder_]. Well spoken, Karl, my +man. We'll tell St. Nicholas all about it as soon as he comes to us, +and then show him the way to Heinrich's little black hut. + +BARBARA. And if he shouldn't have enough to go around, he +always brings us so much that we can spare some of our things for +them. + +FRITZ. Yes, he puts enough for two trees on our tree. Come, +Oscar and Karl, get hold of the rope! Barbara, you take Katrina's +hand. + +BARBARA. Trot along in front, Jan! Come, then, let's get +home as fast as we can. + +HEINRICH. All together now! Get up, horses, pull the load home! +[_Exeunt (R.), singing as before. Enter_ FRIEDEL _(L.), before the +sound of their voices has died away, slowly and wearily. Limps to +side and peers through the trees after the children, then to the +back, then to the left again, like one who has lost his way. Stops +in the center looking doubtfully after the children once more. Enter +the woodcutter (L.), axe over his shoulder, whistling as he hurries +home._ FRIEDEL _silently holds out his cap, but the man shrugs his +shoulders, shakes his head, and passes on._ FRIEDEL _goes slowly to +a tree and sits on a log or mound beside it. Blows on his fingers, +tries to pull his rags more closely around him, and leans his head +dejectedly on his hands. Lifts his head suddenly to watch_ MARTA, +_who approaches (L.), hobbling under a bunch of fagots._] + +MARTA. Ach, my old bones! Ach, this heavy bundle! Will ever +old Marta get home? + + [FRIEDEL _silently holds out his cap._ + +MARTA. What's this! What's this! What's this! Was ever heard +tell of such insolence? As if Old Marta wasn't poor enough herself, +without giving to every beggar who chooses to ask! The little +good-for-nothing sees how I stagger under my own load and yet asks +me to help him! [_Moves on._] + +FRIEDEL [_softly_]. I would help you carry them. + +MARTA [_pausing_]. Help me! Help me! and lose half the +sticks I have worked so hard to gather on the way! [_Goes on._] Help +me, he says. When I want help I'll not ask the beggars that come out +of the streets of the town just a purpose to lie in wait for a poor +old crone like me. [_Exit (R.) mumbling._] That I'll not! That I'll +not. + +FRIEDEL [_looking after her_]. Why does she think I would +drop the sticks? I would be _so_ careful. I wonder why. I almost +think she was afraid of me. Of _me_! + + [_Enter_ CROSS JACOB _(L.)._ + +FRIEDEL [_timidly_]. Please--please, sir, could you tell me +the way back to the town? And oh, couldn't you let me come to your +fire a little while to warm myself? + +CROSS JACOB. Go away with you! It's as much as ever my wife +will do to let me warm myself at my fire. She's got nine boys of +her own to fill up my house and drive me away. Get away with you! +[_Shakes his fist threateningly._ FRIEDEL _recoils._] Go +home to your own fire! [_Exit (R.)._] + +FRIEDEL. Oh, if I only had one! + + [_Enter_ RICH JOHANN _(L.). Pauses to light + his pipe._ + +FRIEDEL [_speaking timidly and hurriedly_]. Oh, sir! Oh, +good, _kind_ sir! don't you want a little boy to help you in your +house? + +JOHANN [_looks him over_]. What's your name, boy? + +FRIEDEL. Friedel, sir! + +JOHANN. Friedel what! + +FRIEDEL. Just Friedel, sir! + +JOHANN. Umph! "Just Friedel." And who's Friedel, I'd like to +know. + +FRIEDEL. I don't think I just know myself, sir! But, oh, +sir! [_clasps his hands tightly_], please let me work for you. I +would pick up wood for you, and build fires, and run errands. I would +work _so_ hard and be _so_ faithful! + +JOHANN [_throwing back his shoulders and putting his hands +in his pockets_]. And who do you think I am, boy, that you presume to +want to work in my house? To work for me, Rich Johann, who has many +servants in his house, to carry out his commands and do his work and +run his errands? Umph! Do you think I could have one servant about me +clothed in such rags as yours? [FRIEDEL _hangs his head._] +No, no! my servants wear fine clothes and brass buttons [_takes a +puff at his pipe_], yes, indeed, brass buttons. No, no! Rich Johann +lives in a very different style--a very different style, indeed. +[_Exit (R.), his nose very much in the air._] + +FRIEDEL. Nobody will take me in. I have walked so far, so +far, I can't go back to the town. [_Throws himself down on mound (R. +Center)._] The snow feels almost warm, the wind is so cold. [_Points +up._] I can see a star up there through the trees. It twinkles and +twinkles as if it was laughing. I do believe it is! Sometimes I think +the stars must be children with little candles in their hands. I +wish I could see---- I wish---- [_He falls back asleep. Enter the +little_ STAR CHILD _(back Center) from behind the fir trees. +Sings._] + +[Music: THE CHRIST CHILD[2]] + +[Footnote 2: From _The Nursery_, Vol. 27 (1880).] + + WM. TAUBERT. + + Over all the starlight clear, + While the world is sleeping, + Sits the Christ Child ever dear, + Nightly watch is keeping. + Safe the starry host He tends, + As his sheepfold shining, + Cares for us and slumber sends, + All to rest resigning, + Sweetly sleep then, do not fear; + Look with love before thee, + From the golden starlight clear, + Bends the Christ Child o'er thee, + Bends the Christ Child o'er thee. + + [_Exit backwards slowly._ FRIEDEL _suddenly + raises himself, stretching out his hand after + her._ + + +CURTAIN + + +SCENE II + +_Christmas Eve in_ MOTHER MADELON'S _cottage. Open +fireplace[3] at the Right, door (R.) and window (L.) at the back. +Snow scene at back, shows through window and door when opened. Small +table by the window with half a loaf of bread and one or two cracked +plates and cups. A stool, a small chair, and by the fire a box._ +MOTHER MADELON _sits (L.) at a spinning wheel. The children +stand beside her_, GRETEL _rubbing her eyes with her two +little fists_, HANS _with his hands behind him._ + +[Footnote 3: See note on Fireplace, p. 313.] + + +HANS [_bravely_]. But, Mother, the good saint never missed +us before. Are you sure he isn't coming? + +GRETEL. What makes you so sure, Mother, dear? + +MOTHER. Yes, my little ones, I am afraid it is true. [_More +brightly._] You know, he has so very much to do. Just think how many +little children he must go to see every year! Someone must always be +left out. Perhaps it is our turn now. We can wait until next year. +Perhaps he will come then. + +HANS [_rubbing his eyes_]. Oh, dear, I wish to-morrow +wouldn't come at all. + +MOTHER. Oh, Hans, don't say that. Think how happy we can be. +Even if St. Nicholas doesn't come, to-morrow is still the bright, +beautiful Christmas Day, when everyone in the world is happy, and we +shall hear the chimes ringing, and see people going about wishing +each other "Merry Christmas." And then we have each other. I have my +little big daughter who helps me wipe the dishes and put the plates +away and my big right-hand man who is going to work so hard for me +pretty soon. + +HANS. Yes, Mother, but I can help you now, right away. Let +me do something for you right now! + +GRETEL. Me too, Mother, me too! + +MOTHER. Very well! You shall hold this yarn for me, while Gretel +winds it. [_Puts the yarn on_ HANS' _hands._ HANS _sits on box_, +GRETEL _on stool winding._ MOTHER _turns spinning wheel and sings +"Bending O'er a Cradle Low."_] + +[Music: BENDING O'ER A CRADLE LOW[4]] + +[Footnote 4: Copyright, 1893, by the John Church Company. Used by +permission.] + +(A CHRISTMAS SONG) + + LYDIA AVERY COONLEY. GEORGE F. ROOT. + + 1. Bending o'er a cradle low + Sang a mother long ago, + "This is Christ the Holy Child." + Shepherds, wise men, angels smiled; + "What care I for palace walls; + What care I for kingly halls! + In my arms the King of kings + Listens while the angel sings. + Peace on earth, good will for aye, + Hail the blessed Christmas Day! + Hail the blessed Christmas Day!" + + 2. Echoing down the ages long + Comes the herald angel's song, + Still do shepherds heed the voice, + Wise men listen and rejoice; + While to greet the King of kings + Earth her noblest offerings brings. + And the blessed Christ is born + In each heart on Christmas morn. + Sing, then, peace, good will for aye, + Hail the blessed Christmas Day! + Hail the blessed Christmas Day! + +HANS. Gretel, I believe St. Nicholas _will_ come anyway, I just +believe he will. [GRETEL _gives the yarn to her mother_, HANS +_remains sitting on the box._] When we aren't thinking about it he'll +just walk right in--I'll show you how. [_Jumps up and runs out of +the door._] Now, I'm St. Nicholas. [_Comes in again, speaking in a +loud and pompous tone._] How do you do, little Miss Gretel,--how are +you little--no, big Hans! [_Shakes hands with_ GRETEL _and with an +imaginary_ HANS.] Well, Mother Madelon, have these children been very +good indeed? + +MOTHER. Yes, good saint, I couldn't ask for two better, +dearer children, or any that I love half so well. + +HANS [_in his own voice_]. Oh, Mother, do you truly think so? + +GRETEL. Then, Hans, if we've been good children, I 'most +_know_ St. Nicholas will come. + +HANS [_dancing to look out of door_]. Oh, he will! He will! +Mother, give me something to do so I won't keep thinking about it. + +GRETEL. Oh, Hans, let's have a story! + +HANS. Oh, yes, Mother, please tell us a story. + +MOTHER. Bring your little stools, then I will tell you a +Christmas story. + +GRETEL [_coaxingly_]. Mother, don't you think it is too dark +to spin? Let me sit in your lap. + +MOTHER. You funny little fairy! [_Takes her on her lap._ HANS _brings +a stool and sits at his_ MOTHER'S _feet nursing his knee._] + +MOTHER. Once upon a time, many, many years ago, it happened +that a little child was wandering all alone through the streets of a +great busy town. It was Christmas Eve, and wherever the child looked +he saw shining lights and hurrying happy people. His coat was all too +thin, and his little feet and hands were bare and frostbitten. The +sharp ice on the ground cut his feet as he walked, and the cold wind +tossed his soft hair back from his forehead. But he hardly seemed to +feel the cold, for everywhere he was watching the eager, happy faces +that hastened by. He looked up into a window and saw a beautiful, +wonderful tree, covered with little candles and glittering balls, +and all about the tree were gathered merry, laughing children. It +seemed as if those happy little ones would be glad to have another +little boy amongst them, and the child went quietly up the steps and +tapped at the door. But the tall man who opened it said crossly, "Go +away. I can't let you in here." So the child went sorrowfully down +the steps and wandered on again. As he went along the street many +more houses were full of light and happiness, and wherever he saw the +candle-covered Christmas trees with their cluster of gay child-faces, +he tapped softly at the door, or looked wistfully in at the window. +But everywhere the same answer was given him. "You must go on. We +can't take you in." Some people looked sorry when they said this, but +most of them hardly glanced at him at all before they shut the great +doors to keep out the cold wind. At last he came to the very last +house--a poor little cottage with just one window. But he could see +the light streaming out of it, and wearily made his way to the door. +In this little house was a Mother and two little children---- + +HANS. Just like us! + +MOTHER. And at one side of the room was a cradle---- + +GRETEL. But we haven't got any baby! + +MOTHER. When the little girl heard the soft tapping at the +door she said: "Shall I open it, Mother?" And the mother said, "Yes, +indeed, we mustn't let anyone stay out in the cold on the beautiful +Christmas Eve." So the child opened the door and led in the little, +shivering stranger. The mother took him on her lap and rubbed his +frozen hands, and folded her warm arms about him. And the children +begged him to stay with them always. Then the Mother told them the +wonderful beautiful story of the first Christmas, and how the shining +angels came to the poor shepherds in the field and sang "Glory to God +in the Highest, and on earth peace, good will towards men." And how +the shepherds went to find the dear baby in the manger, and the wise +men were led by a glorious star to find Him, too. And while she was +talking to them the room seemed filled with a strange, soft light +that grew lovelier and brighter every moment, until the children, +wondering, turned to their mother to ask what it meant. And then +they saw that the Child was gone. But the mother said: "Children, I +think we have had the real little Christ-Child with us to-night." And +after that men used to say that the Christ-Child sometimes came again +on Christmas Eve to wander from door to door asking for shelter and +love. And sometimes men drive Him away, and He can find no place to +rest. But in some homes He is given a glad and loving welcome. + +GRETEL. Oh, Mother, I wish, I _wish_ He would come here, to +us! + +HANS [_looking to the window_]. But, Mother, it is all +dark--there is no light in the window for Him! Mother, we've got a +little piece of a candle. Mayn't I put it in the cup that's broken +and light it? + +MOTHER. Yes, my little son. + + [HANS _jumps on the box and reaches a bit of + candle from the mantel. Fastens it in the + cup and lights it._ GRETEL _watching anxiously. + Then together they put it in the + window and sing "The Christ-Candle."_ + +[Music: THE CHRIST-CANDLE[5]] + +[Footnote 5: By permission of the Universalist Publishing House.] + + KATE L. BROWN. ELIZABETH U. EMERSON. + + 1. Little taper set to-night, + Throw afar thy tiny light, + Up and down the darksome street, + Guide the tender wand'ring feet + Of the darling Christ Child sweet. + + 2. He is coming through the snow + As He came so long ago, + When the stars set o'er the hill, + When the town is dark and still, + Comes to do the Father's will. + + 3. Little taper, spread thy ray + Make His pathway light as day, + Let some door be open wide + For this guest of Christmas-tide, + Dearer than all else beside. + + 4. Little Christ Child come to me, + Let my heart Thy shelter be. + Such a home Thou wilt not scorn, + So the bells of Christmas morn + Glad shall ring, "A Christ is born." + + NOTE: The air "Hearts and Flowers" can also be + used for this song. + +GRETEL. Oh, do you think the little Christ-Child can see it +now, Mother? + +MOTHER. Yes, my darling. He can. And whether He comes +wandering through the snowy forests or not, He loves to know that +little children think of Him and try to please Him. + +HANS. Gretel, I'm going out to see if the light shows +outside. [_Goes out of the door and peers in at the window._ +GRETEL _keeps the door open a crack to watch him._] + +HANS [_comes in and bends over the fire to warm his hands_]. +It sparkles on the snow just the way the moonlight does, and it's +ever so much brighter than the stars. Do you believe it is as bright +as the star of Bethlehem? + +GRETEL. Oh no! It couldn't be like that! There was never +another star that shone like _that_. + +HANS. Let me put another stick on the fire, Mother. If the +little Christ-Child comes He will be so cold. [_Puts on one or two +sticks._] + +GRETEL. Oh, Hans, I'm afraid He will be hungry, too. Let's +toast a piece of our loaf for Him. + +HANS. Yes, let me toast it. + +GRETEL. And I'll cut it. [_Both clatter to the table, where_ GRETEL +_cuts a piece of bread, and fastening it on a stick gives it to_ +HANS, _who seats himself on a stool before the fire._ GRETEL _stands +beside him._ FRIEDEL _appears at the window and leans his face +against it, watching._] + +GRETEL. Oh, Hans, be careful, be careful, you're burning it! + +HANS. No, I'm not, but I'm toasting my face. + +GRETEL. Let me hold it awhile. [_They change places._ HANS _stands +with hands on hips and feet apart watching her. The_ MOTHER _sees_ +FRIEDEL _and rises, beckoning to him._ FRIEDEL _leaves the window, +and goes to the door, where he taps softly._] + +GRETEL. Oh, Hans! He's come! He's come! [GRETEL +_drops fork and both fly to the door, throwing it wide open, and +standing back. An instant's pause, then_ FRIEDEL _looks from +one to the other and stretches out his hands._] + +GRETEL [_shyly taking his hand_]. We--we--we were waiting +for you. Come in. + +HANS. We're glad you've come. + +GRETEL. Mother. Mother, his hands are like ice. [_Leads him +to the fire._ HANS _shuts the door and comes to watch. The_ +MOTHER _comes forward._] + +MOTHER. Sit here, little one, and let me warm the poor +cold hands. [_Seats_ FRIEDEL _on a stool close to the +fire, and bending over him chafes his hands._ HANS _and_ +GRETEL _draw away, casting furtive glances at him._] + +HANS. Do you believe it _is_ the Christ-Child, Gretel? + +GRETEL [_slowly_]. I--I don't know. + +HANS [_decidedly_]. I do. It _must_ be. We put the candle +there for Him--and then He came. And you made toast for Him--where +_is_ His toast, Gretel? + +GRETEL. Oh, Hans! I _dropped_ it when I went to the door! + +HANS [_hurries to pick it up_]. Never mind. It didn't hurt +it a bit. + +GRETEL [_takes it and brushes it_]. He won't care. Mother's +hearth isn't a bit dusty. [_Both go to_ FRIEDEL.] + +GRETEL [_timidly offering him the toast_]. Hans and I +thought you would be hungry, and so we made you some toast. + +FRIEDEL. Oh, I am, I am. [_Takes a bite and turns to them._] +I haven't had anything to eat since--since--Oh, I can't remember! +When was it? [_Puts his hand to his head._] + +MOTHER [_drawing him gently to lean against her_]. There, +never mind. Eat now. + + [GRETEL _and_ HANS _draw away again._ + +HANS. Are you _sure_ it is the Christ-Child, Gretel? + +GRETEL. I don't know. But I think--I think if it was, His +face would be all shining. + +MOTHER. Where is your home, my son? And what is your name? +Why were you wandering all alone this bitter night? + +FRIEDEL. I am Friedel. Just Friedel. Not anything else. And +I haven't any home. I wish I had. A home is what I was looking for. I +thought perhaps someone would take me in, and let me work to pay for +keeping me. But nobody wants a boy, somehow, nobody. [_Drops his head +in his hands._] + +MOTHER [_stroking his head_]. You shall never say that +again, my son. While we have still our little hut, you shall live +with us, and be an elder brother to my little ones. + +HANS. You hear that, Gretel? It isn't the Christ-Child, +after all. [_Rubs his fists in his eyes._] + +GRETEL. Oh, but Hans, I believe the Christ-Child would like +this almost as much. I mean He would like our putting the candle in +the window, and making the toast and everything for this poor little +boy, almost as much as if it was really for Him. Because it's His +little boy, you know. + + [_The chimes begin._ + +HANS. Really and truly? + +GRETEL. Yes, I'm _sure_! Perhaps the Christ-Child sent him +to us. Oh, Hans, listen! The chimes are beginning to ring. [_Both run +to the window to listen. After a moment voices in the distance begin +singing "Oh, Happy Night."_] + +[Music: OH, HAPPY NIGHT[6]] + +[Footnote 6: Courtesy of Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Company.] + + Music written for "Wide Awake" + + Words by M.E.B. By LOUIS C. ELSON. + + 1. Oh, happy night! that brings the morn + To dawn above the Lord new-born, + And bids the angels sing again + Their message to the sons of men, + We hail thee! We hail thee! + + 2. Oh, happy star! whose radiance sweet + Did guide the wise men's eager feet, + To seek the way unknown, untried, + That led them to the manger's side, + We hail thee! We hail thee! + + 3. Oh, happy manger! that hath known + This precious burden as thine own, + Beyond all gifts the world doth hold + Of pomp and pow'r and gems and gold, + We hail thee! We hail thee! + + 4. Oh, happy day! that gave to men + The Babe Divine of Bethlehem, + The King of Kings the undefiled + In semblance of a little child, + We hail thee! We hail thee! + + 5. Oh, happy Babe! whose wondrous eyes + Still hold the light of Paradise, + Look down in blessing from above + While, Prince of Peace and Lord of Love, + We hail thee! We hail thee! + + (Sung by a single voice, several joining in at "We hail + thee!") + +GRETEL [_at the end of the first verse_]. Oh, Mother dear, +do you hear the singing? + + [_Another verse is sung._ + +FRIEDEL [_wonderingly_]. What is it? Angels? + + [_At the end of the song_ FRITZ _and others are + seen passing the window._ HANS _and_ + GRETEL _rush to their_ MOTHER. + +GRETEL. Oh, Mother! He's coming! He's coming! + +HANS. Yes, he is! I saw him! + +MOTHER [_startled_]. Who is coming, my children? + + [_The door is flung open and the children rush + in_, ST. NICHOLAS _standing at the door._ + +HANS _and_ GRETEL. St. Nicholas! St. Nicholas! + +ST. NICHOLAS. Yes, old St. Nicholas again. Mother Madelon, +may I come in? + +MOTHER. May you come in? Ask the little ones here! + + [HANS _and_ GRETEL _run to draw him in._ + +FRITZ. You see, Mother Madelon, our Heinrich heard you say +the good saint couldn't find you this year---- + +BARBARA. So we hurried right home---- + +HEINRICH. And as soon as he came we told him about you---- + +FRITZ. And begged him to let us show him the way! + +JAN. And of course, he came! + +KARL _and_ OSCAR. Yes, of course! + +MOTHER. It was very thoughtful of you, little friends. + +HANS _and_ GRETEL. Thank you, thank you all so much! + +GRETEL. Oh, good saint, we were _so_ afraid you wouldn't +come. + +HANS. Mother _said_ you couldn't find us. + +ST. NICHOLAS. And I doubt if I could have found you, if +it hadn't been for that little gleaming candle that you put in the +window to light my way. + +GRETEL [_holding his hand_]. Oh, but, St. Nicholas, we ought +to tell you that we didn't put the candle there for you. + +KATRINA. Why, who was it for? + +GRETEL [_softly_]. It was for the Christ-Child. We thought +perhaps He would be out in the snow and cold--and we were so warm and +happy! + +ST. NICHOLAS. Let me tell you, little Gretel, though the +Christ-Child did not come, it is just as true that He sent me +to you as it is that I was led here by the clear shining of the +Christ-Candle. + + +CURTAIN + + +NOTES ON COSTUME AND SETTING + +The parts of the Mother and St. Nicholas should be played by adults: +other adult parts taken by young people sixteen to eighteen. + +MOTHER MADELON. Plain dark dress, white kerchief, white +peasant's cap. + +HANS. (Eight years old.) White shirt, bright-colored vest, +full blue trousers, red stockings. Toboggan cap. + +GRETEL. (Six years.) Full white waist, black bodice, red +skirt, or dark skirt and red stockings. White peasant's cap. Both +children may wear wooden shoes. + +FRIEDEL. (Boy of nine.) Very ragged coat and trousers. Bare +feet. No hat. (Should be a thin little fellow whose appearance may +give the touch of pathos.) + +OLD MARTA. (May be taken by a boy, if preferred.) Poorly +dressed, in old shawl and hood, carrying a bundle of fagots. Face +deeply wrinkled and lined, with an ill-tempered expression. + +RICH JOHANN. Velvet coat, flowered vest, full knee-breeches, +shoes with silver buckles. Broad-brimmed felt hat. Silver-headed +cane. Is very pompous. + +CROSS JACOB. Rough farm clothes, heavy boots. + +WOODCUTTER. Fur cap, warm gloves, high boots. Carries an ax. +Is young, wholesome, rosy with work, and happy. + +STAR CHILD. (Child of seven or eight, who can sing.) White +gown, hanging straight from neck to ground, with flowing sleeves. +Carries a gold wand with a star on the end, and wears a star on the +forehead. If taken by a boy, he should wear a short white sleeveless +tunic, white stockings, and sandals. + +FRITZ and his sisters and brothers, children from twelve +years down to six, are dressed in ordinary outdoor winter costumes, +with as much as possible of bright color about them. + +ST. NICHOLAS differs somewhat from the accepted idea of +Santa Claus, being dignified, benign, and kindly, rather than lively +and jolly. Costume about the same,--long coat, high boots, fur cap, +flowing white beard. + +NOTE FOR SNOW SCENE. If not feasible to have a winter +scene for the back drop, cover the back wall with white, and fasten +drooping branches of evergreen at sides, to suggest the limbs of +trees just out of sight. The wings may be treated in the same +way,--or screens, if given in home or schoolroom. Cover the floor +with white, piling with cushions beneath in some places to give an +irregular surface, and to make the bank (R. Center), where Friedel +lies down. Four or five evergreen trees will make an effective +forest, and if quite small, they should be raised to different +heights, and banked about with white. Leave opening between them +(Back Center), in which the Star Child should appear, coming and +going very silently and slowly. Cotton snow upon the little trees and +"diamond-dust" over all, help to make this a very pretty scene. + +For chimes, play the music of the carol "Oh, Happy Night" on a +xylophone, behind the scenes. + + + + +TOINETTE AND THE ELVES + +IN TWO ACTS + + +CHARACTERS + + MOTHER. + TOINETTE, girl of twelve or fourteen. + MARIE, girl of eleven. + JEANNETTE, little girl of five or six. + PIERRE } + MARC } Boys of ten or eleven. + The Elves: + HOLLYBERRY } + MISTLETOE } + EVERGREEN } Little boys of five or six. + ICICLE } + +[Illustration: HOLLYBERRY] + + +TOINETTE AND THE ELVES + +From the story by Susan Coolidge, _St. Nicholas_ for January, 1876. + + +ACT I + +TIME: _Christmas Eve._ + +SCENE: _The kitchen of a peasant cottage. Open fireplace[7] +(R.) with large pot, hung from a crane, or standing directly upon the +logs. On the shelf above, small bowls and spoons. Beside fireplace, +a narrow exit leading to_ TOINETTE'S _room: opposite, door +to other rooms. Outside door, R. Back. L. window. Down stage L. a low +table with small chairs, where the children sit for their supper, +used later by the Elves. Before the fire, a large old-fashioned +wooden rocker._ + +[Footnote 7: See note on Fireplace, p. 313.] + + +MOTHER _bends over sewing, near window, from time to time +glancing at_ TOINETTE, _who sits dreamily gazing into the +fire._ + +MOTHER. Toinette! [TOINETTE, _absorbed in thought, +apparently hears nothing._] Toinette! Bless the child, is she asleep? +Toinette! + +TOINETTE [_absently_]. Yes, Mother. + +MOTHER. Come, Toinette, it is time to brush the hearth and +set the kettle on to boil. + +TOINETTE [_without moving_]. Yes'm, in a minute. + +MOTHER [_sharply_]. Toinette, the dusk is coming. It is +nearly supper-time, and the candle must be lit. Come, brush the floor +quickly, child. + +TOINETTE [_flinging impatiently out of her chair_]. I hate to work! +[_Sweeps slowly and absently, stopping to lean on her broom. Enter_ +MARIE _and_ JEANNETTE, _with sewing and book, and sit down on low +chairs._] + +MARIE. Toinette, will you show me how to fasten this off? + +TOINETTE [_who has been leaning on her broom, begins +suddenly to sweep_]. No, I won't. I'm busy sweeping. + +MARIE. Oh, I didn't know you were busy. + +TOINETTE. What are your eyes for? Don't you see me sweeping? + +MARIE. Well, you were standing still, and I just thought---- + +TOINETTE [_sweeping furiously_]. You're always "just +thinking" things. + +JEANNETTE. I'm hungry, Mother. + +MOTHER. Are you, dear? + +TOINETTE [_crossly, leaning on her broom_]. She's always +hungry. I never saw such a little pig. + +MARIE [_putting her arms indignantly around_ +JEANNETTE]. No, she isn't at all. You're very unkind, +Toinette. + +MOTHER. Hush, children. Don't quarrel. [_Shakes her head +sadly and looks perplexed._] + + [_Enter_ PIERRE _and_ MARC, _the latter with + knife and bits of wood._ MARC _sits down + against the fireplace, whittling._ PIERRE + _lies at full length before the fire._ + +JEANNETTE. Will you tell us a story, Toinette? + +MARIE [_gently_]. Sh, dear, Toinette's busy, but I wish +she would. She can tell such lovely fairy stories when she likes to. +And this is Christmas Eve, Jeannette. Perhaps the fairies are out, +looking for good children. Fairies are always helping St. Nicholas; +Toinette says so. I wish she would get done sweeping. + +JEANNETTE. When you get done, can't you tell just one story, +Toinette? + +TOINETTE. Oh, it's so hard to keep thinking up stories +all the time. There now, Marc, you horrid boy, just see how you've +scattered chips all over my clean floor. And, Pierre, your old shoes +are just as dirty as they can be. What's the use of my sweeping, +Mother, when the boys are so careless? + +MOTHER. Try to remember to brush your shoes next time, +Pierre. And, Marc, it's better not to bring the whittling into the +house. + +TOINETTE. I should think as much. + +PIERRE [_getting up_]. I'm sorry I forgot, Mother. Come +along, Marc, we'll go out in the woodshed. + +MARC [_giving the chips a brush towards the fireplace with +his cap and then following_ PIERRE]. It's pretty cold in the +woodshed. [_Looking resentfully at_ TOINETTE.] I'd rather be +cold than get scolded all the time. [_Exeunt boys._] + +MOTHER [_rises, lights candle, puts saucepan over the +fire_]. Now, Toinette, I have other work to do. Finish brushing +up [TOINETTE _puts down broom_], and set the table. The +porridge is over the fire and will be done soon. If you would put +your mind on it, daughter, and work quickly, you would get done +quickly, and the work would not seem so hard. [_Exit._] + +TOINETTE [_seizes a tablecloth and approaches the table_]. +Work quickly! Marie, how ever can I set the table with you and +Jeannette in the way, I'd like to know? + +MARIE. We'll go in Mother's room, Toinette. [_Takes_ +JEANNETTE _by the hand. Exeunt._] + +TOINETTE [_covering table and slapping bowls and spoons +pettishly down upon it_]. Work quickly! Don't I work and work all +the time? And I'm never done. The work seems hard because it _is_ +hard, that's why. Oh, if we weren't so poor, and didn't have to work +so hard! [_Relaxes her efforts and stands before the fire, dish in +hand._] And if we could have beautiful Christmas presents to-morrow, +instead of just--anything. [_A very gentle knock at the door._] +Oh, what was that? [_Opens._] The boys must be playing tricks on +me. [_Knocks again._] Surely, there is someone there. [_Opens door +and steps outside._ HOLLYBERRY _slips in behind her and +hides behind the door. Re-enter_ TOINETTE.] It must be the +fairies, I think. [_Stands looking out._] This is Christmas Eve and +of course it's the right time for good fairies to be about. How I +wish I could see one! + +HOLLYBERRY. Do you, Toinette? Just open your eyes and you +will, then. + +TOINETTE [_jumping, rubs her eyes and looks about_]. Where? +Oh, where? + + [HOLLYBERRY _comes from behind the door + and makes a low bow._ + +TOINETTE [_clasping her hands with delight_]. Oh, are you +really a fairy? + +HOLLYBERRY [_hands on hips_]. Yes, I think I'm a pretty real +sort of a fairy. We elves have heard you talking about us and you +always tell what's true, so we like you. + +TOINETTE. Oh, I'm so glad, because I _love_ fairies. The +children do too, and they are always teasing me to tell them fairy +tales. + +HOLLYBERRY. I am the leader of the band of elves. My name is +Hollyberry, and I've come with a message to you. I told you the elves +and fairies all like you. So we are going to give you a Christmas +present. + +TOINETTE. Oh, oh! how kind you are. + +HOLLYBERRY [_arms folded, nodding his head_]. Yes, we are. +Very kind. But people don't always think so. Toinette, how would you +like to be invisible? + +TOINETTE. Invisible? Oh, do you mean to go around wherever I +like without being seen? Oh, what fun! + +HOLLYBERRY. That's exactly what I mean. _We_ can do it, at +any time, because we know how. But mortals like you can only do it on +Christmas Eve, and then only when we help them. + +TOINETTE. Do you mean you are going to show me how? + +HOLLYBERRY. That's it. There are two things you must do. +First you must put fern seed in your shoes. + +TOINETTE. Fern seed? Why, I didn't even know ferns had +seeds. I never saw any. + +HOLLYBERRY. Of course not. The elves take very good care of +that. + +TOINETTE. Where shall I get any? + +HOLLYBERRY. I'll attend to that. The second thing is to put +on the Cloak of Darkness. + +TOINETTE. The Cloak of Darkness! What is that? + +HOLLYBERRY. Don't be impatient, Toinette. [_Waves his holly +wand and snaps his fingers above his head. The door opens and the +other elves enter, carrying between them the gray cloak and a tiny +bag._] + +ELVES [_kneeling before_ TOINETTE _and presenting +bag and cloak_]. Hail, Toinette! + +HOLLYBERRY [_touching the kneeling elves as he names them_]. +Evergreen and Mistletoe, present the magic Cloak of Darkness. Icicle, +yield the fairy fern seed. Now, Toinette, put a pinch of fern seed in +each shoe, wrap the cloak around you, and _then_,--well, nobody but +an elf can find you. + +MISTLETOE. The charm is only for to-night. + +HOLLYBERRY. And if you get tired of it before bedtime---- + +EVERGREEN. Take off the cloak---- + +ICICLE. And empty your shoes---- + +HOLLYBERRY. And, presto! Toinette is herself again. Now, +farewell. [_All bow low and go to door._] + +ICICLE. Good-by. + +MISTLETOE. We'll take care of the cloak when you're done +with it. + +EVERGREEN. We hope you'll like our Christmas present. + + [_Exeunt elves, laughing mischievously._ + +TOINETTE [_looking after them_]. What cunning little +fellows! Oh, what fun. [_Examines cloak._] I'll put it on right away. +[_Exit (R.)._] + + [_Enter_ MOTHER _(L.), going at once to the fire._ + +MOTHER. Why, where is Toinette? The porridge is almost +boiling over. Come, children,--Marie, Jeannette, boys. Supper is +ready. + + [_Enter children and take their places at table._ + MOTHER _fills bowls from saucepan while + they talk._ + +MOTHER [_calls_]. Toinette, come to supper, daughter. + + [_Enter_ TOINETTE _in cloak. All are unconscious + of her presence._ + +MOTHER [_giving bread to children, who eat hungrily_]. Where +can Toinette be? Boys, have you seen her? + +MARC. No, Mother, she lets us alone when we keep out of her +way. + +MOTHER. For shame, Marc. Pierre, go call her,--she may be in +her room. [PIERRE _crosses the room, almost bumping into_ +TOINETTE, _who stands in the way._] + +PIERRE [_at door_]. Toinette! Toinette! We're at supper. +[_A moment's silence._ TOINETTE _giggles._] She isn't here, +Mother. + +MARIE. I'm sure I heard her laughing. + +MOTHER. Listen. [TOINETTE _covers her mouth to +stifle a laugh._ PIERRE _sits down again and eats._] + +TOINETTE [_aside_]. This is such fun. But I'm hungry,--how +am I going to get anything to eat? [_Goes close to the table and, +watching her chance, slips_ MARC'S _bread off the table and +eats._] + +MARC. Where's my bread? You took it, Pierre. + +PIERRE. I did not. Here's my own. + +MARIE. You must have dropped it on the floor. + +MARC [_looking under chair_]. No, I didn't. + +MARIE. Well, you ate it, then. + +MARC. I never. [TOINETTE _laughs silently._] + +MOTHER. Here's another piece. Never mind where that is gone. +I only wish Toinette had it. [TOINETTE _nearly chokes._] The +child must have gone out. I will go to the gate and look down the +road. [_Exit._] + +JEANNETTE. Poor Toinette's all gone. + +MARC. Perhaps a bear has eaten her up. + +PIERRE. If he has, I mean to ask Mother if I can't have her +room. + +MARIE. Marc, don't talk so, you'll frighten Jeannette. + +MARC. Well, perhaps it's true. + +MARIE. Well, you know you'd be sorry if it was. + +PIERRE. I wouldn't be very sorry. + +MARIE [_horrified_]. Oh, you bad boy. + +PIERRE. Well, of course I don't want her to be _hurt_. + +MARC. But we wouldn't care much if she didn't come back. + +MARIE. Boys, how can you be so naughty? + +PIERRE. But, Marie, Toinette never does a thing but scold us +when she's around. + +MARIE. She tells us _beautiful_ fairy stories sometimes. + +MARC. That's just it--"sometimes." You don't catch her doing +it unless she wants to. + +PIERRE. And she's just a regular old spoil-sport. + +MARC. Oh, bother about Toinette. She'll come back a good +deal sooner than we want her. Can't you talk about anything else? + +MARIE [_doubtfully_]. Well, it is pleasanter when she isn't +here, I know. + +PIERRE. Of course it is. + +MARIE. But I hope she's having a good time somewhere else. + + [_Throughout this conversation_ TOINETTE _listens, + horrified at first, then angry, then + distressed; at one moment about to exclaim, + then starting forward to strike one + of the boys, and at last covering her face + with her hands and crying. Enter_ + MOTHER. + +MOTHER [_anxiously_]. Not a trace can I see of her. Children, have +you eaten your porridge? Marie, take Jeannette to bed. [_Exeunt_ +MARIE _and_ JEANNETTE.] Boys, go out and cut some wood for our +Christmas fire. [_Exeunt boys._] There will be no Christmas in this +house unless Toinette comes back soon. [_Sits down in the rocker to +warm herself._] Dear, dear, she is a good girl, and a clever girl, +but she is a sore puzzle to me. What can make her so thoughtless and +careless and full of discontent? Why, even little Marie is a greater +help to me than she is. + + [_Exit_ TOINETTE _in great distress._ MOTHER + _sits in silence. Enter_ TOINETTE _without + cloak, throwing herself on her knees at her + mother's feet._ + +TOINETTE. Oh, Mother, Mother! [_Buries her face in her +mother's lap._] + +MOTHER [_trying to raise her_]. Toinette, my child! Where +have you been all this time? + +TOINETTE [_with great excitement, half crying_]. Oh, I've +been here--right here--all the time, only you couldn't see me. + +MOTHER. Toinette! + +TOINETTE. Yes, Mother, it's all true. I'll tell you. A fairy +came and lent me the Cloak of Darkness--and--and--I thought it would +be such fun, but it was horrid. And then the children--they said such +cruel things. Mother, don't they love me at all? + +MOTHER. Mercy, mercy, what is all this about? +Fairies--cloak of darkness--the child must have a fever. [_Feels_ +TOINETTE'S _forehead and takes her hand as if to count her +pulse._] + +TOINETTE. No, no! I'm not sick at all. But, Mother, don't +you love me? + +MOTHER [_puts her arm about_ TOINETTE]. Love you, +my child? Mother _always_ loves you. + +TOINETTE. But you said I didn't help you. Oh, I wish the +fairy had never given me the cloak. + +MOTHER. Fairies again! [_Anxiously._] I must put the child +to bed at once. Stay by the fire, Toinette. I will get your bed +ready. [_Rises, leaving_ TOINETTE _seated on the floor by +chair. Exit_ MOTHER.] + +TOINETTE [_slowly_]. Mother thinks I dreamed it--or that +I'm sick. But I'm not. It's all true, it's all true. [_Covers her +face with her hands._] How could the children be so unkind?... +But perhaps I'm not always kind to the children. The boys are so +provoking--but then I needn't scold them even if they are. And Marie +must care a little, for she hoped I was happy somewhere. Happy! How +can I be happy? [_Gazes at the fire._] Perhaps if I began now, and +tried and tried every day, I could be kinder--to the children--and +then they would love me more--and I could try to help Mother--and +then she needn't be so tired all the time---- And surely, then I +would be happy. [_Brightly, facing audience, hands clasped on one +knee._] Yes, that's just what I'll do. And now, perhaps I can help +Mother this very minute---- I'll take the candle up to her. [_Jumps +up, takes candle from table, pauses in center of the stage._] It is +Christmas--I do think that if I begin to-morrow to try to be kind, I +will surely succeed. Because Christmas is the very best and happiest +day in all the whole year. It was on Christmas Day the angels first +sang about Peace on earth, good will to men. + + +CURTAIN + + +ACT II + +TIME: _One year later. Christmas Eve._ + +SCENE: _Curtain rises showing_ TOINETTE _and_ +MARIE _seated, sewing_; JEANNETTE _sits upon the +floor, leaning against_ TOINETTE'S _knee_; MARC +_leans over the back of her chair_; PIERRE _sits in the big +chair rocking and looking on. All are singing a Christmas carol. +Enter_ MOTHER, _pausing a moment in doorway to watch and +smile at the group._ + + +MOTHER. Come, chickabiddies, it is time to stop work. + +MARIE [_going to_ MOTHER]. Oh, Mother, must we stop +now? Toinette was just going to tell us the Christmas story about the +Shepherds and the Star in the East. + +MOTHER. It is supper-time now, and Toinette must set the +table. [_Exit._] + +PIERRE. And after supper comes bedtime. Oh, dear. + +TOINETTE [_cheerfully folding her work_]. Never mind, +Pierre, I'll tell it to you to-morrow. + +MARC. That'll be Christmas day, Toinette. I wish you could +tell it on Christmas Eve. + +TOINETTE. Oh, I think I can tell it better on Christmas day, +Marc. Now we all have something to do,--let's get to work. Who will +fetch water for me to-night? + +MARC _and_ PIERRE [_springing for the pitcher_]. I +will, I will. + +MARC. It's my turn, Pierre. + +PIERRE. No, you nearly always get water for Toinette. I'm +going to. + +TOINETTE. Let Pierre get the water, Marc, and you go and cut +the wood. + +MARC _and_ PIERRE. All right, Toinette. [_Exeunt._] + +MARIE. What can we do for you, Toinette, dear? + +TOINETTE. Nothing just now, I think. [TOINETTE _is +spreading the cloth and setting the bowls and spoons._] + +JEANNETTE. But _we_ want to help, too, dear Toinette. +[_Clings to her skirt._] + +TOINETTE. I'll tell you what. I'd rather send my two little +helpers in to see what they can do for poor busy Mother. She needs +them more than I do. [_Exit_ JEANNETTE.] + +MARIE [_following_]. Won't that be helping you too, Toinette? + +TOINETTE. Yes, dear. [_Exit_ MARIE.] How good the +children are to-night! I do think they are the best brothers and +sisters a girl ever had. [_Lighting the candle._] And I think they +love me more than they ever used to. Oh, I'm so glad! [_Tap at the +door._] There is someone knocking. [_Goes to the door._] + +HOLLYBERRY [_bowing low_]. How do you do, Toinette? A Merry +Christmas to you. + +TOINETTE. Oh, how wonderful. It's Hollyberry again, and I +was just thinking about you. Won't you come in? + +HOLLYBERRY. Just for a moment. [_Enter_ HOLLYBERRY. +TOINETTE _closes the door._] I've brought you a Christmas +present, Toinette. [_Holds out cloak and fern-seed bag._] + +TOINETTE [_retreating, hands behind her_]. Oh, no, no, no! +I know what those are, and I don't want them. Oh! Hollyberry, they +made me so unhappy last year. + +HOLLYBERRY. You didn't like the elves' gift, then? + +TOINETTE. Oh, it was horrid--I _hated_ it. + +HOLLYBERRY [_severely_]. Do you call that being grateful? + +TOINETTE [_confused_]. Oh, no--I mean, yes--that is, it was +very kind of you--but I didn't like it. Oh, dear! + +HOLLYBERRY [_kindly_]. Never mind, Toinette, I'm only +teasing you now. And I advise you to take the fern seed. You will +like it better this year, I'm sure. + +TOINETTE [_anxiously_]. Truly? + +HOLLYBERRY. Truly. [TOINETTE _takes bag and +cloak._] And if you like it we are going to ask a favor of you. We +want you to make us some fern-seed broth. + +TOINETTE. Fern-seed broth? + +HOLLYBERRY. Yes, elves are very fond of it, but they don't +get any very often, because it has to be made over a fire, and you +see we're afraid of fire. We're so little and light, we might be +blown in and burned up. + +TOINETTE. But how shall I make it? + +HOLLYBERRY. It's very easy. We'll show you how. And now, +good-by. We'll come in by and by when the children are in bed. [_Exit +with a bow._] + +TOINETTE [_looking gravely at cloak and bag_]. Oh, do I dare +use them? I have tried to be kinder--I know the children love me +more---- Yes, I will. [_Runs out. Boys singing carol in the distance. +Enter boys singing, with pitcher and wood. Enter_ MOTHER, +MARIE, _and_ JEANNETTE.] + +MOTHER. Why, the supper is all ready, but where is that busy +bee of ours, Toinette? [_Goes to door as if to call._] + +PIERRE [_catches her arm_]. Oh, Mother, wait a moment; don't +call her yet! You know we've made her some Christmas gifts, and we +want to put them on her plate and surprise her. + +MOTHER. Run and get them. + +MARC [_under his breath_]. Hurry, quick, everybody. + + [_Exit children in haste._ MOTHER _takes saucepan + from fire and fills bowls. Enter children + singing carol, each bearing a homemade + gift. They place the presents about_ + TOINETTE'S _place, and all take their places + at the table, sitting with folded hands until + hymn is ended. During the singing_ TOINETTE + _enters, dressed in cloak, and stands + near door (R.), her hands clasped in + pleasure at the sight._ + +MARC [_looking towards the door_]. Oh, I wish Toinette would +hurry. + +MARIE. Won't she be surprised? + +PIERRE. And won't she _look_ jolly surprised, too? I love to +see Toinette when she's surprised. Her eyes get so big and shiny, and +she just stares. + +MARC. Andrew, the blacksmith's son, thinks his sister is +prettier than our Toinette, but _I_ don't. + +PIERRE [_in great scorn_]. Aw! I should think not. Our +Toinette is just the prettiest girl in the village. + +MARIE. And the very nicest, too! + +MOTHER [_smiling_]. And Toinette is Mother's right hand. We +all love Toinette! Don't we? + +TOINETTE [_softly_]. Oh, the dear little things! I can't +wait a minute longer. [_Exit quickly._] + +CHILDREN [_calling_]. Toinette! Toinette! [_Enter_ +TOINETTE _without cloak. Shows great surprise._] + +CHILDREN. Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas, Toinette! + +TOINETTE. Oh, oh! what do I see? [_Sits down in her place._] +Oh, did you make these lovely things, children? + +PIERRE. Yes, mademoiselle, we did! + +MARC. Every one of them. + +MARIE. Nobody helped us. + +JEANNETTE. All for you, Toinette, all for you! [_Leaves her +chair and throws her arms around_ TOINETTE.] + +TOINETTE [_kissing her_]. Oh, thank you, thank you! How +_beautifully_ these are made. [_Looks them over one at a time._] How +good everyone is. I'm so happy I don't know what to do. + +PIERRE. And to-morrow's Christmas! Hurrah! + +MOTHER. Yes, dear, but if you don't go to bed and to sleep, +Christmas won't come. [_Takes_ JEANNETTE _by the hand._] We +will leave you to finish, Toinette. + +CHILDREN. Good-night, Toinette! + +TOINETTE. Good-night, everyone! [MARIE _and_ +JEANNETTE _throw their arms about_ TOINETTE.] + +MARIE. Good-night again, dear Toinette! [_Exeunt all but_ +TOINETTE, _who clears the table, shakes off crumbs, and sets +fresh bowls and spoons. The children are heard singing carol. When +all is ready and the song is done_, TOINETTE _goes to outer +door and looks out. After a moment the elves rush in._] + +ELVES. Here we are, Toinette, here we are! + +HOLLYBERRY. Now let's proceed to business. Where is the +saucepan, Toinette! Icicle, give me the honey-dew; Mistletoe, you +have the fern seed. + + [TOINETTE _produces the saucepan and the + elves crowd around her and hand her the + articles named. The honey-dew is supposed + to be in a jar--or pitcher--or anything + curious or unusual in appearance; + the fern seed in a quaint box._ + +HOLLYBERRY. Now, Evergreen, give me the holly stick she must +stir it with. + + [TOINETTE _puts it on the fire, the elves watching + with great interest._ + +HOLLYBERRY. It's very simple, but it must be made with great +care. + +MISTLETOE. You must always stir it the same way! + +EVERGREEN. Or else it will curdle. + +ICICLE. And you must _never_ let it scorch! + + [TOINETTE _bends over fire, stirring broth. A + very gay waltz in very quick time is played + softly outside, and the four elves dance and + tumble about, coming up one at a time to + peep over_ TOINETTE'S _shoulder. They + show great fear of the fire, however._ + +TOINETTE. Now, little Elves, the feast is ready! + +ELVES. Oh, joy! Oh, joy! [_All seat themselves at table_, +TOINETTE _pours out broth, and they eat. Music continues_, +TOINETTE _refills bowls, and elves drink from them, tipping +their heads far back and making grotesque motions. Music grows +fainter. Elves rise and bow to_ TOINETTE.] + +ELVES. Thank you, Toinette! Thank you! + +EVERGREEN. We've had a merry feast. + +MISTLETOE. And fairies are never ungrateful. + +ICICLE. When you need us, you'll find us ready. + + [EVERGREEN, MISTLETOE, _and_ ICICLE _go outside + and stand about door._ HOLLYBERRY + _remains within._ + +TOINETTE. But I haven't thanked you at all! + +HOLLYBERRY. No need of that, Toinette. [_He brushes +door-post with his holly wand._] Be lucky, house! We are the +luck-bringers, and we have feasted here! [_Touches_ TOINETTE +_on the head and hands._] Be lucky, Toinette! Good temper, and +kindness, and unselfishness are the very best good luck, after all. +Now, good-by! + +ELVES. Good-by, good-by! Merry Christmas to all! + + [_Exeunt._ TOINETTE _closes the door and goes + slowly to hearth, where she sits down on + floor, resting her arm on a chair and her + head on her hand._ + +TOINETTE [_softly_]. The fairies have been here, and they +have taught me a lesson.... After all, it isn't the fairies who make +the children love me, or me love the children.... I think--yes, I'm +sure--that it is Christmas that makes us all love each other! + + [_Her head drops, and she falls asleep. The + children's voices are heard, singing, very + softly and distinctly, the last verse of the + carol_: + + "Thank God on Christmas morning! + Thank God, O children dear." + + +CURTAIN + + +NOTES ON COSTUME AND SETTING + +The children are dressed in peasant costumes, the girls in bright +skirts and stockings, white guimpes, black velvet bodices, and +Normandy caps; the boys in full trousers, bright stockings, vests of +green or blue, fastening in the back, white shirts with full sleeves, +and toboggan caps. Toinette wears shoes with buckles; the others may +wear the same, or sabots. + +MOTHER. Plain dark dress, with full skirt; kerchief on her +shoulders, and a white cap. + +The magic "Cloak of Darkness" brought by the Elves for Toinette, is a +long cape, with hood attached, made of light gray canton flannel. + +The Fern-seed Bag may be made of a bit of the same material, or of +the colors of Hollyberry's costume. + +The Elves wear harlequin costumes in two shades of the same color, +with tall pointed hoods, and long shoes with toes turned up. Gilt +bells on all points of collar, jacket, and hood. See illustration. +Sateen is perhaps the best material for these little suits, as it +comes in a great variety of rich shades, but cheaper goods may be +found. + +HOLLYBERRY. Dark red and scarlet. He carries a holly branch +in lieu of a wand. + +MISTLETOE. Brown and yellow. In Act II he carries an odd box +supposed to be full of fern seed. + +EVERGREEN. Dark and light green. In Act II he produces the +holly stick for stirring the broth. + +ICICLE. Dark and light blue. In Act II he carries a small +jar or pitcher,--something curious or unusual in appearance,--which +is supposed to contain the honey-dew. + +Instead of the gilt bells, the points of these suits may be trimmed +with bits of holly, mistletoe, evergreen, and glass icicles, as +indicated by the names. + +In setting the stage, it is effective to make small windows, with +diamond-shaped panes, and white sash-curtains, placing small pots of +scarlet geraniums on the sills. + +The song is "Good News on Christmas Morning," from _St. Nicholas +Songs_ (Century Company). + +Where music is indicated through the play, any part of the carol is +sung, except the last verse, which is used only once, just before the +last curtain. For the Elves' dance, the Pizzicato from the ballet +"Sylvia" by Delibes, Dvorak's "Humoresque," or a waltz, very lightly +played, may be used. + + + + +TOM'S PLAN + +IN TWO ACTS + + +CHARACTERS + + FATHER WRIGHT. + MOTHER WRIGHT. + PHIL } + DAISY } + CHARLIE } The little Wrights. + TOM } + DOT } + SARAH, the nurse. + SANTA CLAUS. + + +TOM'S PLAN + + +ACT I + +TIME: _Christmas Eve._ + +SCENE: _Nursery or sitting-room, children sitting about, +each working upon a Christmas gift. Nurse at one side with her +work-basket. All singing a Christmas carol._[8] + +[Footnote 8: See note on Carols, p. 315.] + + +DAISY. I just can't believe that to-morrow really will be +Christmas!... What do you think of that for a book-mark? [_Holds it +up._] Don't you suppose Papa will be pleased? + +PHIL [_driving a last nail into a bootjack_]. Papa says he +can't get his new boots off. If he can't do it now, with this, I'm +sure he never will be able to. Isn't that fine? + +SARAH. Sure, Master Phil, he'll be wantin' a new house to +kape that big thing in! + +DAISY. Now, Sarah, you mustn't say that! You know Papa +always likes the things we make for him. + +DOT [_crossing to_ SARAH]. Sarah, please fasten my +thread.... Now, my spectacle-wiper is done. Oh, boys, don't you wish +it was to-morrow morning! + +TOM. You bet! I'm going to do Papa's knife up in a great big +bundle, so he'll think it's a pair of slippers or a book, anyway, and +see how surprised he'll be. + +CHARLIE [_clapping his hands_]. What fun! Say, Tom, don't +you wish we could _see_ Santa Claus? + +PHIL. Let's try and stay awake all night. + +DOT. No! you bad boys! Santa Claus doesn't like to have +children see him when he comes to put things in the stockings. + +DAISY. No, of course he doesn't. And, besides, Mamma has a +better way. She told me to ask you all whether you would rather hang +your stockings this year, or get Santa Claus to come and bring us a +tree. + +CHARLIE. Oh, jolly! But how is Santa Claus going to know in +time? + +PHIL. That's what I'd like to know. + +DAISY. I asked Papa that, and he said, Oh, he guessed he +could telegraph. + +TOM. Then do let's have him come here! + +CHILDREN. Oh, yes, let's! + +DOT. I want to thank him for my dolly's bed that he brought +last year. + +DAISY. Well, I'll go tell Mamma. [_Exit._] + +SARAH. Ye'd all better come down and wrap up yer things now. + +PHIL. All right. Come along. [_Exeunt all but_ TOM.] + +TOM. I'll be along in a minute. [_Looks up chimney._] I'm +so glad Santa Claus is coming this year. [_Crosses to front of stage +and sits astride a small chair with its back to audience._] There are +so many things I want to know about him. I'm just going to count. +[_Checks off on his fingers._] First, I want to know where he lives. +Daisy says he lives at the North Pole, and she's got a picture of +his house, with icicles and snow all over it. But then he always +brings us oranges and bananas and nuts and figs, and I know _they_ +don't grow at the North Pole. I wish I could find out. Next, what he +feeds the reindeer on. Next, how he ever gets all the things into +the sleigh. How fast the reindeer can go. And whether they ever get +balky. He'd be late all the time if they did. Horses do, but perhaps +reindeer are different. But the one thing I'd rather know than all +the others put together, is just this: Sarah _said_, the other day +when I took a bite out of one of her hot pies, that Santa Claus +[_very slowly and impressively_] would put a whip in my stocking! +Now I wonder if he would do that? [_Thinks awhile, then shakes his +head._] No, no! I don't believe he would. He's always smiling in his +pictures, and he looks so jolly. And then, if anybody wanted to spend +all his time giving presents, like Santa Claus, I don't believe he +would ever put ashes or whips in anybody's stocking, just because +he forgot the pie was for company.... Oh, dear! I wish I did know. +[_Jumps up suddenly, puts one knee on the chair, and holds on to the +back with both hands._] Oh! Oh! I've got such a splendid plan! It'll +be easy enough to find out, after all. I don't really want anything +for Christmas this year ... 'cept maybe a sled, and ... well, I guess +Phil will let me coast on his sled. Now, I'm going to be just as +cross, _as cross as a bear_, to-night and _see_ if Santa Claus will +give me a whip. I don't care--I know he won't! Anyway, Mamma never +lets anybody whip me--only Papa--and if Santa Claus wants me whipped +he'll have to give the whip to Papa. There! I hear somebody coming. +I'm just going to begin right off. + +CHARLIE [_calling, without_]. Tom, Tom! Aren't you coming to +wrap up your things? + +TOM [_very crossly_]. No! + +CHARLIE [_much surprised_]. _Why_ not? + +TOM. Don't want to. [_Chuckles._] He sounded rather +surprised. I guess they won't know what to make of it. It'll be such +fun! [_Sits astride chair again._] Here comes somebody else. I won't +look around. [_Puts his head down on his arms. Enter_ DOT.] + +DOT. Tom! + +TOM. What do you want? + +DOT [_timidly_]. What's the matter, Tom? + +TOM. Ain't nothing the matter. + +DOT [_aside_]. Oh, dear! Tom, do you want me to wrap up the +knife for you? + +TOM. Can if you want to. Here. [_Takes it from his pocket +and hands it to her without looking up._] + +DOT [_aside_]. What can be the matter? We can't any of us be +happy if Tom isn't. [_Exit, putting her handkerchief to her eyes._] + +TOM [_looking after her_]. 'Tisn't so much fun as I thought. +[_Puts his head down. Enter_ SARAH.] + +SARAH [_hands on hips, looking at_ TOM]. Well, what +'ud be the trouble here? [_Goes about, putting things to rights. +Dusts chair, giving_ TOM _a brush._] + +TOM [_hits out at her_]. Go 'way! + +SARAH. Oh, is that yerself? + +TOM. Yes, it's meself. + +SARAH. Well, what's the matter wid yerself? + +TOM. Never you mind what! [_The other children run in._] + +DAISY. Oh, Sarah, Sarah, give us our coats, quick! Papa says +he'll take us along Fourth Street, to see the shop windows lighted up! + +CHARLIE. Do hurry, Sarah! + +DAISY. I can't find my mittens! + +DOT [_softly, nudging_ PHIL]. Phil, tell Tom to +come. + +PHIL. Come along, Tom, and be quick! + +TOM. Won't. + +PHIL. You _won't_? + +CHARLIE. Why not? + +TOM. Don't want to. + +CHARLIE. Well, then, don't! Come on, Dot! [_Takes her by the arm, and +leads her out._ PHIL _and_ DAISY _look at_ TOM.] + +DAISY. Please come, Tom. + +TOM. I tell you I won't. + +DAISY. We'll have such fun. + +TOM. Well, you can have it for all me. + +PHIL. See here, Tom, don't be a donkey! Come along! [_Takes +him by the arm._] + +TOM [_shakes him off_]. Get out! + +DAISY. Well, I suppose we'll have to go without him. Papa is +waiting. [_They start._] Phil, what is the matter with Tom? + +PHIL. I don't know. Dot said he was cross---- + + [_Exeunt._ + +SARAH. Ye'd betther remember what I was a-tellin' ye, Master +Tom. Ye gettin' ready for the stick? + +TOM. You be still and clear out, Sarah! + +SARAH. Oh, I'm a-goin'--I'm a-goin'! Shall I tell Santa +Claus to make it out of rattan, Master Tom? + +TOM. Go on out, I say! [_Chases her out._] Well, it's some fun to +be cross to Sarah, but I really don't like to be cross to Dot and +the others. Oh, dear! I wish I didn't have to. [_Sees_ SARAH'S +_dust-cloth, which he rolls into a wad and tucks into a cap lying on +one of the chairs._] He-he! that'll fix her. Now she can't find it. +[_Enter_ SARAH. TOM _sits down by the fire, holding his knee._] What +do you want? + +SARAH. Oh, my clearin'-up's not done yet! I declare, if I've redd +up this room once, I've done it forty times this day. [_Straightens +things, then looks for her duster._ TOM _watches slyly._] Did I take +that cloth downstairs wid me? Sure, I know I didn't. Where did I put +it, then? 'Tain't here annywheres. Maybe that little squirrel hid it. +Seen my duster, Tom? + +TOM. No, I don't see your duster. + +SARAH. Did I ax ye if ye saw it now? I said, have ye sane it? + +TOM. And I said I didn't see it. + +SARAH. Well, ye little fox, I know yer tricks, and I'll find +it yet. Them as hides, finds, but sometimes other folks can find, +too, when they know who did the hiding. Ah! what did I tell ye! I've +got it at last. I knew ye put it somewheres. Now I can get my work +done. + +TOM. Well, don't you bother me. + +SARAH [_stands with hands on hips, looking at_ TOM, +_who scowls at her_]. If I were you, I wouldn't scowl like that, +Master Tom; yer furhead might stay that way. + +TOM. If I were you, I wouldn't either. + +SARAH. Ye don't look a bit pretty, Master Tom. + +TOM. You don't have to look at me. + +SARAH. See, this is what ye look like. [_Makes a face and +hunches up her shoulders._ TOM _refuses to look._] Do ye +think that's rale handsome? [_Aside._] Well, since I can't t'ase ye +into a good humor, I'll go on down. + + [_Exit._ + +TOM. I did want to laugh at her awfully. If she comes in +again, I think I'll just have to. + + [_Enter_ DAISY _and_ PHIL. + +DAISY. We didn't go far, because it was so late. Phil, +did you ever see anything so perfectly grand as that last window? +[_Taking off things._] + +PHIL. Never! Don't I wish I had that air-rifle! + +DAISY. I'd rather have the doll's piano than anything else. + + [_Enter_ SARAH _with_ DOT _and_ CHARLIE. + SARAH _takes children's coats, etc._ + +SARAH. Here, give me yer coats. Now just sit down and get +warm for a minute, and then ye've got to go to bed. Yer Ma said so. + +DAISY. Let's sing while we're here. We don't know our new +carol very well. [_All begin to sing a carol._ TOM _claps, +stamps, whistles, and bangs his chair up and down, to put them out. +They stop._] + +CHARLIE. See here, Tom, if you don't want to sing, you don't +have to, but you shan't stop us! + +SARAH. No, sir! That ye shall not. Ye can't stay here makin' +disturbances, so just be off with ye to bed. [_Pushes him out. +Children sing a carol, and curtain falls during last verse._] + + +CURTAIN + + +ACT II + +TIME: _Christmas morning._ + +SCENE: _Sitting-room with open fire [back Center] in +fireplace through which_ SANTA CLAUS _may enter._ +FATHER _and_ MOTHER _sitting by fire_, +FATHER _with paper_, MOTHER _sewing._ PHIL +_and_ CHARLIE _in one corner [R. Front], reading together._ +DAISY _and_ DOT _[L. Front] with dolls._ + + +DAISY. And I caught Mamma! I hid behind the door, and jumped +out and shouted "Merry Christmas!" before she saw me at all. + +DOT [_leaning towards_ DAISY]. Daisy, let's say it +to Santa Claus. + +DAISY. Oh, do you suppose he would like it? + +DOT. Why not? + +DAISY. Yes, I guess he would. Dear Santa Claus, nobody ever +thinks of saying "Merry Christmas" to him. + +DOT. Poor man! Well, Daisy, his little boys and girls might +say it to him. + +DAISY. Oh, Dot! He hasn't any little boys and girls to say +it. Don't you know he's an old man, oh, hundreds of years old? And if +he ever did have any little boys and girls, they're all grown up by +this time. + +DOT. Maybe he's got some grandchildren. + +DAISY. No, I don't believe he has, for then why do they let +him do all the work? Nobody ever fills stockings but Santa Claus. + +DOT. Poor Santa Claus! He must get very tired. + +DAISY. I wonder ... I wonder who keeps house for Santa Claus? + +DOT. Maybe nobody does. + +DAISY. Oh, yes! He must have somebody to make his fires, and +cook his meals, and darn his socks. + +DOT. Why, he doesn't wear socks. Don't you know, he's all +dressed in fur in the pictures. But perhaps fur wears out and has to +be mended. I'd like to help her do it. + +DAISY. Perhaps she's a real cross, ugly woman, and scolds +him when he stays out too long filling stockings, and doesn't give +him enough sugar in his tea, and never lets him have but one cup! + +DOT [_shaking her head_]. Poor Santa Claus! Aren't you sorry +for him, Daisy? I am. [DAISY _nods._] Daisy, if he hasn't +any little children, I don't suppose anybody ever gives him any +Christmas presents? + +DAISY [_pityingly_]. No, I don't suppose anyone ever does. + +DOT [_excitedly_]. Oh, Daisy, let's _us_ give him a present +this year! + +DAISY. Oh, how splendid! Of course we will. But what do you +think he would like? + +DOT. Let's think. He travels all the time. Perhaps he would +like a comb and brush case. + +DAISY. Dot! You don't suppose he can ever comb out all that +hair! It's a great deal too thick and snarly. He doesn't use a comb +and brush. + +DOT. Well, I'll give him my new purse. + +DAISY. Santa Claus doesn't need a pocketbook to carry +money--he doesn't buy things. + +DOT. But he might come to a toll-gate on the road, sometime. + +DAISY. All right. And I'll give him my silk muffler, for I'm +afraid his housekeeper doesn't give him enough warm clothes. Come, +let's get them. [_Exeunt._] + +CHARLIE. What's this picture about, Phil? + +PHIL. That's where Santa Claus is coming down our chimney. + +CHARLIE. I wonder why he likes to come down chimneys? I'd +have a latchkey, and come in at the front door. + +PHIL. Everybody doesn't have a front door just like ours, +Charlie. His key wouldn't fit all the doors. + +CHARLIE. But I'd have a magic key, that did. When Papa +shaves, and puts that white stuff all over his face, he looks just +like Santa Claus, but he wouldn't look like him long if he put his +head up the chimney. Santa Claus must get very dirty,--perhaps he +looks like the chimney-sweep. + +PHIL. Oh, no, he doesn't. You'll see how he looks pretty +soon. Come along, let's try our new sleds. + + [_Exeunt._ + +MOTHER. My dear, I want to speak to you. [FATHER +_drops paper._] Sarah tells me that Tom has been very naughty and +cross. He wouldn't do as she told him, and was disagreeable to the +other children. + +FATHER. Tom! Why, he's the best-tempered chicken I've got. + +MOTHER. I believe you think so just because he's named after +you. But he is really dreadfully provoking sometimes, and I don't +know what to do with him now. + +FATHER. Oh, ho! You've given up in despair, and want to fall +back on me? + +MOTHER. Not at all. But I'd like your advice. Would you pay +no attention to it, or would you take him to task for his naughtiness? + +FATHER. Mary, I always told you you couldn't manage the +boys. You are too gentle and yielding. You are never strict enough. +You ought to be firm, my dear! + +MOTHER. Firm like yourself? Oh, Tom, who was it that +wouldn't punish the boys when they played truant, and pretended to +know nothing about it when they went in swimming unbeknownst? + +FATHER. Oh, well, Mary, you couldn't expect me to be hard on +them for the very things I did myself! + +MOTHER. I knew I couldn't, so I attended to them myself. +But I'll just send Tom in here, and let you try your luck with him. +[_Exit._] + +FATHER. Try my luck, indeed! I flatter myself that I'll soon +bring him around. [_Stands before fire. Enter_ TOM, _very +slowly, hands in pockets._] Good-morning, Tom. [_Very pleasantly._] + +TOM [_mutters_]. Morning. + +FATHER. That is no way to speak, my son. Good-morning, Tom. + +TOM [_a little louder_]. Morning. + +FATHER. See here, Tom, we can't have this. Your mother says +you haven't been very good. + +TOM. Don't care. + +FATHER. Thomas, that is not a respectful way to speak to +your father. What do you mean by it, sir? [_No answer._] Do you mean +to tell me? [TOM _is silent, and stands looking down and +kicking the leg of a chair._] Go upstairs and stay there until I send +for you. [_Exit_ TOM.] This is most extraordinary! What can +have got into the child? + + [_Enter_ MOTHER. + +FATHER. Ah, here's Mary again. + +MOTHER. Well, what did you say? + +FATHER. I--a--I scolded him. + +MOTHER. What did he say? + +FATHER. He said--well--in fact, he didn't say anything. + +MOTHER. Wouldn't, you mean. Did you punish him? + +FATHER. Punish him? No, I didn't punish him. Come, now, +Mary, you don't mean to say you want me to punish him on Christmas +morning? I really couldn't do that. + +MOTHER. Oh, no, I don't want you to punish him. + +FATHER. Well, my dear, on the whole, I think perhaps _you'd_ +better talk to him. I'll send him down. + + [_Exit._ + +MOTHER. I didn't think Tom could do much with that boy when +he was contrary. [_Enter_ TOM.] Well, Tom, dear, don't you +want to come and sit with Mamma a little while? + +TOM [_rather doubtfully_]. Ye-es. + +MOTHER. Here is your little chair all ready. [TOM +_sits down with his elbows on his knees, and his chin in his hands._] +Sarah has told me something that makes me sorry. She said that you +were naughty last night? Is that so? + +TOM [_reluctantly_]. Yes, I was cross. + +MOTHER. She said you were cross again this morning. + +TOM. Yes, I was naughty this morning, too. + +MOTHER. Oh-h-h, Tommy! I'm so sorry to have my little boy so +naughty on Christmas Day. Don't you think that when people want to be +happy and glad, everyone ought to be good and pleasant, too? + +TOM [_the words drawn out against his will_]. Yes, I think +so. + +MOTHER. And then there is the beautiful story of that +wonderful first Christmas. Don't you think people were very happy on +that Day? And you know we always think of that on Christmas, now. + +TOM. Oh, yes, I do too. + +MOTHER [_reproachfully_]. Then, Tom, how _could_ you be so +naughty? + +TOM. Well, Mamma, do you think it's so _dread_fully naughty +to be cross? + +MOTHER. It is not so naughty as some things you might do, +but it is making other people unhappy, and don't you think that is +pretty bad? + +TOM. Well, Mamma, if a fellow didn't _feel_ cross at all, +but had a very good reason for _being_ cross, would that be naughty? + +MOTHER. I don't think there can be any good reason for being +cross. + +TOM. I do. + +MOTHER. What is it? + +TOM. It's a secret. It's a _very_ good reason. I'm sorry +it's naughty. I didn't think it was. But _I'm not sorry I did it_. + +MOTHER. Oh, Tommy, it makes me feel badly to hear you talk +so. I'll leave you here, and let you think it over. Perhaps you'll +feel pleasanter after awhile. You can call me when you do. + +TOM [_leaving his little chair for a big one_]. I'm sorry +they all think I'm so bad, and I'm really very tired of being cross, +but I _must_ find out about Santa Claus, for if he's the kind of man +that would bring anybody ashes or whips on Christmas, I don't believe +I'll like him at all! [_Jingling of bells in chimney._] What's that? +[_Louder bells._] I do believe he's coming now! [_Jumps up._] Oh, +dear! where are the others? I wish they would come! I--I--I guess I'm +just a _little bit_ afraid! [_Gets behind his chair. Enter_ SANTA +CLAUS _through the fireplace._] + +SANTA CLAUS. That's a fine wide chimney! [_Stoops to look up +it._] Why doesn't everybody keep a chimney like that for my special +use? [_Comes front._] I'm sure when I only come once a year, I ought +to have some attention paid to my wants! + +TOM [_faintly_]. Santa Claus! + +SANTA CLAUS. Hello! What's this? Where are you, anyway? +[_Looks about, then over chair, and sees_ TOM.] What! Hiding +from me? Come out at once, and tell me what's the matter with you. + +TOM [_coming out_]. Santa Claus, have you got the whip and +ashes? + +SANTA CLAUS. Whip and ashes! Bless me, what's the boy +talking about? Whip? I left my sleigh whip on the roof, if that's +what you mean, and I never carry _ashes_ around with me. What are you +driving at? Hey? + +TOM. Sarah said you gave whips to bad boys, and I've been +very naughty--oh, dreadfully naughty! + +SANTA CLAUS. Naughty? Dear, dear! I'm sorry to hear that! +And on Christmas, too! What a pity! When you knew I was coming? Dear, +dear, dear! + +TOM. _Have_ you got the whip, then? + +SANTA CLAUS. No, no! I never give anybody whips--excepting +toy ones, with a whistle in the end, like this---- [_gives_ +TOM _one_] ----and Sarah was just teasing you. I'll have +to see Sarah about that. I won't have anybody telling stories about +me. But, dear, dear, it makes me unhappy to think you could be so +naughty. Why did you do it? + +TOM [_looks around cautiously_]. Don't tell anybody, Santa +Claus, but I was naughty on purpose, just to see if you would give me +a whip. + +SANTA CLAUS. Well, that's a joke! Don't you know enough to +see that you ought to have waited to ask me, instead of running such +a risk? + +TOM [_remorsefully_]. Sure enough! I could have done that! +And now I've gone and made them all feel sorry, just for nothing. + + [_Enter_ FATHER _and_ MOTHER. + +FATHER. Well, well, here's Santa Claus! I haven't seen you +for a long time. How do you do, sir, how do you do? [_They shake +hands._] + +MOTHER [_at door_]. Children! Children! Come here! + + [_Enter children._ + +CHILDREN. Oh, Santa Claus! Santa Claus! + +DAISY _and_ DOT. Merry Christmas, Santa Claus! + +DAISY. We've got some presents for you, Santa Claus. Dot and +I thought nobody would remember to give you anything, so we wanted +to. [_Giving presents._] + +SANTA CLAUS. Well, really, my dears, these are very nice. +Bless your little hearts, nobody has remembered me for some time, +and that's a fact! Mr. Wright, how have these children been behaving +themselves? Can I give them the nice things I have brought for them? + +FATHER. Yes, sir! I'm happy to say, they have been very +good, very good, indeed. Oh---- [_aside_] ----now I'm forgetting that +rascal, Tom! [_To_ SANTA CLAUS.] That is--they've all been +good except one--and he--a--well---- + +MOTHER [_looking at_ TOM]. He is sorry now, I hope, +Santa Claus, and will try not to do so any more. + +SANTA CLAUS. Oh! Ha-ha! you're talking about this fellow, +are you? [_Puts his hand on_ TOM'S _shoulder and draws him +forward._] Well, he's just been explaining to me that it was all a +mistake---- + +FATHER [_sternly_]. I hope he has not been trying to hide +his misdoings from you, Santa Claus. + +SANTA CLAUS. Not at all, sir, not at all. He confessed like +a man. But there is this about it that you didn't know. Somebody told +him that I put whips in the stockings of naughty children. Well, he +naturally thought I was to be distrusted--shocking way to malign me, +wasn't it?--and of course he wanted to find out. So what did he do to +test me but _try_ to be naughty--acted it out to perfection, I've no +doubt. Pretty severe on his brothers and sisters and parents, wasn't +it? [SANTA CLAUS _and_ FATHER _laugh._] + +MOTHER. Why, Tommy, it's a pity you didn't just come to me +and ask about it. It would have saved so much trouble. Why didn't you +do that? + +TOM. I never once thought of that way, Mamma! + +SANTA CLAUS. Well, my son, your thinking-cap is the only +cap you don't have to take off in the house, so remember to keep +it on, next time. Mr. Wright, I'm sure he feels sorry enough about +his mistake to justify me in giving him his full share of presents. +Come, children, look and see what I've got for you. I brought it last +night, to have it all ready, and I think it ought to hold enough for +all, don't you? + + [_Curtains at side of stage fall, and disclose + the Tree._[9] _General distribution of presents + follows._ + +[Footnote 9: See note on Tree, p. 314, and on Tree-songs, p. 315.] + + +NOTES ON COSTUME AND SETTING + +For this play, ordinary costume is all that is required. Adult parts +are taken by two girls and a boy, of fourteen or fifteen, and these, +of course, need something especial, but little girls can easily +borrow their equipment from mothers or sisters. Father Wright should +wear a mustache and, if desired, a beard. + +For Santa Claus costume, see note, p. 313. + +See note on fireplace, p. 313. + + + + +THEIR CHRISTMAS PARTY + +IN TWO ACTS + + +CHARACTERS + + FATHER BROWNE. + MOTHER BROWNE. + AUNT JENNIE. + DICK } + DOT } The little Brownes. (Eight and six years old.) + MARY, the nurse. + JOHN, the man. + JIM } A newsboy and his sister, both ragged. (About + POLLY } the age of Dick and Dot.) + THE FIVE LITTLE BLAIRS. + THE TWO LITTLE GRAYS. + SALLIE LEE. + COOK'S SISTER'S CHILDREN. + _And_ SANTA CLAUS. + +[Illustration: THEIR CHRISTMAS PARTY] + + +THEIR CHRISTMAS PARTY + + +ACT I + +TIME: _Afternoon of the 24th of December._ + +SCENE: _A street corner on a snowy day. Barrels and boxes in front +of a small grocery store. Enter_ DICK _and_ DOT, _well wrapped up, +dragging a sled._ + + +DICK. Whew! that's a dandy coast, but it's pretty hard work +pulling up. + +DOT. Let's sit down a minute and rest. [_They draw sled to +left of stage and sit down side by side on it._] I'm so tired. Oh, +Dick, I thought we were going to run over that poor gray cat, didn't +you? + +DICK [_nodding_]. It's lucky for her that she knew how +to jump. The Comet would have hit her sure! This rope needs tying +tighter. [_Goes to front of sled and kneels down, fixing rope._] + +DOT [_looking around_]. It's so nice and quiet here. No big +boys ever coast on this street. Big boys always bump into you. + +DICK [_shaking his mitten at her_]. Now, Dot, that's just +the very reason I don't like it. You don't know how much more fun it +would be to have just lots and lots of boys on this track all the +time, climbing up and whizzing down. I bet none of them could beat +this old sled. + +DOT [_doubtfully_]. Maybe it would be nice, but, Dick, I +think it's such fun to have just us two. + +DICK. That's just because you're a girl and don't know. +Come along, let's try the hill again. Shall we go over the bump? + +DOT. No, I'm afraid. Let's start down here. + + [_Exeunt._ + + [_Enter from Left_, JIM _and_ POLLY. + +JIM. If you're very cold, Sister, we can go home right off +now, but I've got four papers left, and I want awful bad to sell 'em, +every one, so's I can take the money to Granny. + +POLLY. No, I'm not so dreadful cold, Jim. And, 'sides, maybe +Granny's not got home yet from work, and then you know we'd just have +to sit on the doorstep and wait. + +JIM. We'll stay right here. Folks will be going home soon, +and lots of men pass this corner. Here's a nice box to sit on; I +don't believe the store man will mind. You sit on that side, so, +Polly, and I'll sit here, so, for the wind's blowing this way, and if +I sit here it will hit me first, and I can keep it off o' you. [_They +sit back to back on the box._] + +POLLY. Oh, Jim, I'm afraid you'll be cold. + +JIM. Oh, no, I won't. [_Two men cross stage arm in arm._] +Here's your Times, Star, Evening Post. Last edition. [_Men shake +their heads._] [_Looking after men._] Pshaw! Well, maybe the next +feller'll want one. [_To_ POLLY.] See, Polly, I can't be +cold, I just stuff my hands in my pockets---- [_His hand comes +through._] No, that's the wrong place. I just stuff my hands in my +pockets like this, and then I kick my heels like this. [_Kicks on box +with his heels._] That's very warming. And then I whistle. [_Whistles +lively tune._] If you just whistle you don't have time to think about +the wind, see! + +POLLY [_drums with her heels and tries to whistle_]. But it +hurts to kick your heels, and I can't whistle. + +JIM. I'll tell you what. Let's try singing. Perhaps that's +just as warming. Let's sing Granny's Christmas song. [_They sing a +verse of "God rest ye, merry gentlemen," or some other old-world +carol._] + +POLLY. Jim, is to-morrow Christmas? + +JIM [_gloomily_]. Yes, to-morrow's Christmas. [_Aside._] And +if somebody don't buy these papers pretty soon, I won't have enough +pennies to get [_counts on his fingers_] that penny paper doll; nor +the penny washtub, nor the jumping Jack, nor the paint box, 'cause +that's three cents. [_Enter man._] Here's your evenin' paper, sir! +[_Man stops and takes one. Exit._] + + [_Enter_ DICK _and_ DOT, _cross stage, and sit + down as before._ + +DOT. Wasn't that a nice coast, Dick? + +DICK [_absently_]. Yes. [_Rests his chin in his hands and +elbows on his knees._] Dot, I do wish we lived in an orphan asylum. + +DOT [_jumps_]. Oh-h! Why, Dicky Browne, you wouldn't have +any papa nor mamma nor Aunt Jennie, nor anybody, nor anybody. + +DICK. But just think what lots of brothers and sisters we'd +have. + +DOT. Well, you're all the brothers I want; 'nd I wouldn't +give up Papa and Mamma for all the sisters in the world; so now. + +DICK. Well, neither would I, but can't you see how much +nicer times we would have if there was a lot of us, on holidays +especially? + +DOT. Well, I think we have an awfully good time, anyway. You +said you liked Thanksgiving. + +DICK. That was because of the dinner part. When we tried to +play games and dance afterwards, what did we do? We played Hide the +Thimble, and if I hid it there was only you to look, and of course +you couldn't help finding it first. We had to play Going to Jerusalem +with just one chair, and the two of us went around and around and +around till we felt like the "Little Rid Hin" in John's story. I +declare there aren't enough of us to play Puss-in-the-corner. Two +children can't have any fun. [_Puts his head down on his arms._] + +DOT [_sighs_]. That's so. + +DICK [_lifts up his head suddenly_]. And I'd just like to +know what's the fun of coasting when you haven't anything to shout +"clear the track" at, but ash barrels, and hens and cats that you +can't run over anyway. I wish there were forty-'leven boys on the +track this minute. + +DOT. Well, I don't care about the track, but brothers and +sisters are nice to play with. Wouldn't it be nice if there were two +of you and two of me? + +DICK. Two of us! I wish there were six of each of us. I +wish I could go and live with the Ruggles's, in your story about the +"Birds' Christmas Carol." There were nine of them and they only got +washed about once a year. And folks weren't always saying, "Land! +where did you get them dirty hands?" + +DOT. That would be fun! We could play just as untidy +games---- + +DICK. Don't talk about it, it makes me cross. [_Folds his +arms, crosses his feet, and whistles something sad._ DOT +_gets out her handkerchief and spreads it in her lap._] + +JIM [_softly_]. I say, Polly, that boy's got an awful nice +sled. + +POLLY. Just look at his sister's muff. [_Enter man._] + +JIM [_shouts_]. Buy a paper, sir! [_Man takes paper._] + + [DOT _turns and sees children, looks away, then + back again, turns to_ DICK. + +DOT. Dicky, are you sure you are warm enough? + +DICK. Warm enough! How could I be cold with a great big coat +like this one? I feel like a polar bear. [_Walks up and down to show +size of his coat, then sits down._ DOT _turns and sees the +children's ragged shoes._] + +DOT. But are your feet warm? + +DICK. Of course, with boots on. + +DOT [_sees_ POLLY _examining holes in her +mittens_]. But aren't there any holes in your mittens? + +DICK. In my spick-span new mittens that Aunt Jennie made me? [_Holds +them up._] Dot, you're crazy! [_Catches her looking at the children; +looks himself, and then walks around the sled to sit facing_ JIM +_and_ POLLY. DOT _does the same. All four stare in silence._] Hullo! + +JIM. Hullo, yourself! + +DICK. Are you the boy that my papa gets his papers of? + +JIM. Don't know. + + [DOT _walks decidedly over to_ POLLY. + +DOT. Let me feel your hands. They're just like ice; I knew it. Put +them right in here with mine. [_Kneels in front of_ POLLY _and puts +her hands in muff._ DICK _moves sled close to_ JIM _and sits astride +of it._] + +DICK. Have you sold all your papers? + +JIM. No, I've got two left. + +DICK. Isn't it lots of fun to sell papers and earn money? + +JIM. I don't know,--not this kind of weather. + +DICK. I think it would be fun. I wouldn't want to sell 'em +on Christmas. Do you have to work on Christmas day? + +JIM. Not if I don't want to. I did go out last Christmas, +but nobody much came along. I suppose they stayed at home to keep +warm. + +DOT. No, I guess Santa Claus was coming to see their little +children, and they wanted to see him too. [_To_ POLLY.] What +do you want Santa Claus to bring you? + +POLLY. Santa Claus hasn't ever been to our house. + +DOT. What, hasn't ever been to your house! + +DICK. Haven't you ever seen him? + +JIM. No, she never saw him, but I saw a stuffed Santa Claus +in a window once. + +DICK. Why, he comes to our house every single year. + +DOT. I thought he went to everybody's houses in this world. + +JIM [_leaning toward_ DICK _and speaking low_]. I +get Polly presents when I get enough money. + +DICK. But doesn't Santa Claus fill your stockings? + +JIM. No, and he never goes to Nicky Smith's house, nor Eddy +Warren's, nor Jakey White's. They told me so. Here comes another man. +Post, sir? [_Man shakes his head._] + +POLLY. Jim got me some candy last Christmas, and Granny gave +me a doll, only its head came off the next day. + +JIM. That's an awful nice sled. + +DICK. Haven't you got any sled? + +JIM. No, but I coast on a board sometimes. + +DICK. I'll let you try Comet. Don't you want to take Polly +down? + +DOT. Oh, yes, go; we'll take care of the papers. + +DICK. Let's change places; we'll sell papers and you +coast. And you must take our coats too. [_Pulls off his things_, +DOT _following his example._] Because the wind just whistles +right through you, I tell you, when you go down that hill. + +DOT. Oh, yes. + +JIM. We're much obliged for the sled, but we can't take your +things; you'll be cold. + +DICK. No, we won't, and you must. [_Helps him on with his +own coat._] You see, you're cold now, and you won't have a good coast +if you're not warm. Give me your cap. Here, take my mittens. Dot, +take Polly's shawl. + +DOT. Now, we'll sit right down here. Dick, you hold the +papers. + +JIM. Are you all fixed? + +DICK _and_ DOT. Oh, beautifully. Oh, thank you. + + [JIM _and_ POLLY _go off._ + +DICK [_calling_]. Put Polly on behind. + +DOT. Mind the bump at the curbstone. + +DICK. Oh, Dot, isn't this fun? + +DOT. Yes, lots. Have you got the papers? + +DICK. Yes, there are only two left to sell. + +DOT. Let me get close up behind you, the way Polly did. Now +you must drum with your heels, and whistle like Jim. [DICK +_does so._] + +DICK. Here comes somebody. Now I'm going to call. Here's +your evening papers, last edition! + + [_Enter two men, stop and buy a paper._ + +FIRST MAN [_looking back_]. That's a queer-looking newsboy. +Somehow he looks like a rich child. + +SECOND MAN [_pulling him off_]. I can't see but the +little scamp is ragged enough. Some of these newsboys aren't so +poverty-stricken as they make out, anyway. Come along. [_Exeunt._] + +DICK. I've seen that man somewhere. + +DOT. I think he's been to see Papa. Wouldn't it be fun if +Papa came along and bought a paper of you? + +DICK. And didn't know me. What a circus! Wish he would. + +DOT. There come Jim and Polly. Wave your paper at them. + +DICK [_waving_]. Hurrah, Jim, I sold a paper. + + [_Enter_ JIM _and_ POLLY. + +JIM. Good for you. It was fine! + +POLLY. It was just grand! + +DICK. Try it again. We like this, don't we, Dot? + +DOT. Yes. Don't you want to go again, Polly? + +JIM. Are you warm enough? honest Injun? + +DOT. Yes, go on. + +JIM. All right. [_Exeunt._] + +DICK. I knew Jim would think Comet was a boss sled. Don't +you think Jim would be a nice brother, Dot? + +DOT. Yes, if he washed his face. Polly would be nice for a +sister, too. + +DICK. We could all write letters to Santa Claus together. +[_Drums with heels and whistles._] + +Dot [_after a pause, rubbing her nose_]. Well, if Santa Claus's nose +ever feels like mine, it's no wonder it's red. + +DICK [_squirming_]. Somehow, it's colder than I thought it +was. The thermometer must be down to zero. + +DOT. I'm sure it's nineteen below. I--I think a fire would +feel real nice. + +DICK. I'll take you home when they come up again. I'm not +very cold. I wonder if Jim ever flops his arms like a street car +driver. Maybe that would make him warm. Try it, Dot. [_Both beat +themselves with their arms._] + +DOT. I don't believe anything would make me warm. + +DICK [_turning anxiously_]. Dot, do you want my handkerchief? + +DOT. Oh, no, I'm not going to cry. + +DICK. Well, I'm glad, for it's in my pocket that Jim's got +on. + + [_Enter man._ + +MAN. Got a Times, boy? + +DICK. Yes, sir, last one. [_Exit man. Enter_ JIM +_and_ POLLY.] Sold the last paper, Jim. Here's the money. +We've got to go home now. [_Changing coats._] Jim, I think it's very +queer about Santa Claus. Is your house hard to find? + +JIM. No, it's just right down this street, there on +Friendship Alley. We're awfully much obliged for the ride. The +Comet's a beauty. + +POLLY. I never was on a sled before. + +DOT. Weren't you? We'll let you have ours again, sometime. + +DICK _and_ DOT. Good-night. [_Exeunt._] + +JIM. That's an awfully nice little chap, Polly. + +POLLY. Why, Jim, he's 'most as big as you are. + +JIM. Oh, well, he's little somehow. I take care of you and +that makes me big. Let's go home to Granny. [_Takes her hand. Exeunt, +singing another verse of their carol._] + + +CURTAIN + + +ACT II + +TIME: _Christmas morning._ + +SCENE: _Sitting-room, with large old-fashioned fireplace[10] [back +Center]. Toys scattered about. A small blackboard to left of +fireplace._ DICK _and_ DOT _sitting in little chairs._ DICK, _with a +knife, whittling._ DOT, _with a doll. Both wear sprigs of holly._ + +[Footnote 10: See note on Fireplace, p. 313.] + + +DOT. Everybody has given us such lovely presents. It +couldn't be nicer, could it, Dick? + +DICK [_sighing_]. I think it could be just a little nicer. +It would be nicer if we had a lot of brothers and sisters to help us +play with the soldiers and the blocks and the dolls and everything. +Oh, I wish--I wish that just for this one day I could have a whole +_roomful_ of children to play with. + +DOT. I'm afraid Jim and Polly aren't having as nice a +Christmas as ours. + +DICK [_shutting his knife_]. So am I. I don't think +Friendship Alley's a very nice place to have to live. + +DOT. I wish they could have a Christmas like ours. I'd like +to give them some things. Anyway, I'd like to show them our presents. + +DICK [_jumping up_]. Let's! + +DOT. When? + +DICK. Now, right off. And, Dot, don't you know they said +they had never seen Santa Claus, either. It's 'most time for him to +come. Let's go and bring them over to see him. + +DOT. All right. He'll give them something, too. + +DICK. We'll hide them so as to surprise everybody. + +DOT. Will Papa and Mamma like it? + +DICK. Of course they will. Papa always likes our surprises, +and Mamma will, I know, because it would make her feel so sorry +if she knew there was anybody in the world that wasn't happy on +Christmas. She says that's the happiest day in the year, and +everybody ought to be happy. So we won't make her sorry by telling +her about it. We'll just make them happy too. + +DOT. We can have them take off their things in the nursery, +and then Jim can wash his face. + + [_Exeunt. Enter_ FATHER, _with paper which + he throws on table._ + +FATHER. Well, the children seem to have grown tired of their +new things already. I don't see what has come over that boy lately. +He talks of nothing but big families. I suppose the sight of the +five little Blair children across the way is tantalizing, and it +certainly is lonely for the two little duds with nobody but grown-ups +in the house. Their efforts to be a large party in themselves, to +play games, on Thanksgiving day, were really laughable, but they +were pathetic, too. If Julia had thought of it, we might have had +a little Christmas party for them. It's a good deal of trouble for +Santa Claus to climb down a chimney for just two children. [_Looks +at his watch._] The old gentleman ought to be here in about half an +hour. I wonder if it's too late to get some children now? Mr. Blair +might lend me his youngsters for an hour or so. It would be such a +nice surprise for the children. I could hide them somewhere, and at +a given signal have them come out. I'll just step across the way and +see. + + [_Exit_ FATHER. _Enter_ AUNT JENNIE. + +AUNT. What a dreadful state the children have left this +room in. That blessed boy! I knew he couldn't wait to try his new +knife. His father would insist on giving it to him, though I'm sure +it's dangerous. Here are his chips all over the floor, and Dot has +had Dolly dressed and undressed a dozen times at least. [_Sits down +by fire, laughing indulgently._] The way those children have been +talking the last few days is a puzzle! I can't think what started +them. I never had but one brother myself, and I'm sure I was quite +happy. What they want with ten brothers and sisters is beyond me. +A dozen children in the house would be more than their father and +Julia and I could stand, to say nothing of nurse and John. The two +alone can think of quite enough mischief to drive the household +crazy. I suppose our having so many friends when we were children +made a difference. We never used to be alone at Christmas. After all, +on holidays it would be forlorn. Too bad we didn't think of having +a party. There are so many children who would think it a treat to +come, too, who have no tree or Santa Claus at home. That little girl +of Ellen Lee's must be all alone to-day. [_Gets up decidedly._] I +declare I'll just put on my hat and coat and go around there now and +get her. It'll be such a nice surprise for the children. + + [_Exit in haste. Enter_ MOTHER. _Takes up + doll, and sits down thoughtfully before the + fire, rearranging doll's dress._ + +MOTHER. Dolly, you'd be surprised if you knew how badly +I'm feeling! I think I've been a very stupid, unrealizing sort of +a mother, not to plan something to make the children have a really +_merry_ Christmas, as well as a happy one. It would have been so +easy to have a little party of children here. Oh, Dolly, you know +all about it better than I do myself, for didn't I just hear Dot +confiding in you, and whispering in this little ear under your curls +how she wished you were a real live sister to play with her? Now you +see how I feel! Don't you see that if she had a hundred dolls, of wax +or china or rags, she would still have a stupid Christmas? I haven't +a doubt that you mean well, and you do fill a very large corner in +a little girl's heart--I haven't got over my fondness for your race +yet. [_Kisses the doll's curls._] But you certainly are a trifle +obstinate about responding to friendly advances. Poor children, it's +so easy to give you pleasure! [_Lets doll fall in her lap._] I might +have had a nice, jolly, little ... well, it's too late now. [_Sighs, +then looks at her watch._] No! I don't believe it is, after all. I +still have time to go for little Jerry Gray and his sister. They are +just the ones! The children love surprises so. I'll hurry---- + + [_Exit in haste. Enter_ MARY _and_ JOHN. + _While they talk together they put the room + to rights._ + +MARY. Well, it do beat all, how thim children can make a +room look like so many pigs and chickens had been running through. + +JOHN. Thrue for you, an' it does. + +MARY. An' what fer need they be wishin' there was tin of +thim to mess the house up worse? + +JOHN. An' did they do that, thin? + +MARY. Sure they did. "Mary," says Dicky to me, "don't you +wish that I was five little b'ys and Dot was five little girls? We +do, we're so lonesome." + +JOHN. An' that's what I heard them sayin' as I was +a-carryin' up coal this morning. "I wish I had a whole room full of +brothers and sisters," says Dick. Faix! I wish I could give him some +of mine, then. I've enough to spare. + +MARY. 'Tis sort of lonesome like, now, ain't it, John? +[_Hands on hips._] + +JOHN [_hands on hips_]. Yes, it is that. I wonder---- Say, +Mary, me darlin', them three children of cook's sister's ain't going +to have much Christmas. Why can't you and me smuggle them up here +to the cupboard on the stairs, and when we comes up to help wid th' +tree, we'll just give the word and they'll pop out and say, Merry +Christmas. It'll be sort o' cheerful like, and Mistress is that +kind-hearted she ain't going to care. + +MARY. John, you have the brains of a elephant. I'll go right +down and fetch 'em now. [_Exit._] + +JOHN. Poor children! They shall have some fun, that they +shall. + + [_Re-enter_ MARY _with children._ + +MARY. Well, would you look at 'em, John? Cook she dressed +'em all up in green ribbons, bless their hearts. Says I, "Sure +to-day's not St. Patrick's day." "Well," says she, "what's fittin' +one holiday is fittin' the next. It's a good color anyhow. Them's +their best clothes." So I never touched 'em. I've told 'em about it, +John. Now, just go right up in here, children. + +JOHN. And when we say "Broomsticks!" out you bounces and +shouts, "Merry Christmas!" Now, Mary, we've redd up, we'll just go +below stairs. [_Exeunt._] + + [_Enter_ DICK _and_ DOT _with_ JIM _and_ POLLY. + +DOT. We're so glad you came, because we want to show you our +things. + +DICK. And now you can see Santa Claus. + +JIM _and_ POLLY. Oh-h-hh! We never saw nothin' like +this before. + +DICK. And I'm going to put my new necktie on you, because we +want to be all dressed up for Santa Claus. + +DOT _and_ DICK. We've got on holly because it's +Christmas. + +POLLY. I've got on my clean apron. Will I do? + +DOT. 'Course you will; I don't believe Santa Claus cares. + +DICK. Here are my soldiers. + +DOT. And this is my dolly. + +DICK. And just look at my knife. + +DOT. Where's my pincushion? + +DICK. Oh, see our blackboard. Don't you want to draw on it, +Jim? + +JIM. I don't know how to draw. + +DICK. Oh, make a man; it's very easy to make a man. +[_Demonstrating._] You just make his stomach and his head, and then +put on the arms and legs. + +DOT. See our books. + +DICK. This is my new history. It's got a picture of Mr. +Columbus finding the red Indians. + +DOT. Oh, I hear somebody coming. You must hide straight off. + +DICK. In the chimney is the best place. Jim, you go on this +side and Polly on that. And look out for the fire. Remember when we +say "Sleds!" you must come out. + +DOT. Now. + + [FATHER _puts his head in at the door._ + +FATHER. Oh, children, are you there? Don't you think you'd +better go and have your hands and faces washed? Santa Claus likes +clean faces, you know. + +DICK _and_ DOT. Yes, sir, right off. [_Exeunt._] + + [_Enter_ FATHER _with five little Blairs._ + +FATHER. Now, children, quick, run right into the library +here, and when I say "Holly!" you must run out and say, "Merry +Christmas!" + + [_Exit_ FATHER. _Enter_ AUNT _with_ SALLY + LEE. + +AUNT. Sally, the best place for you to hide is here on the +floor behind the blackboard. There, no one can see you. Now, when I +say "Evergreen!" you must come out as we planned. + + [_Exit_ AUNT. _Enter_ MOTHER _with two little + Grays._ + +MOTHER. Come right here, dears, behind this curtain. You +won't have to wait long. And when I say "Mistletoe!" run out. I'll go +and find Dick and Dot. + + [_Exit._ + + [_Enter_ DICK _and_ DOT _and place two low + chairs by the fireplace. Both put their + heads into the chimney._ + +DICK _and_ DOT. Are you all right? + +JIM. Yes, if we don't have to stay too long. + +POLLY. It's very nice and warm here. + + [_Enter_ FATHER, MOTHER, AUNT, _and_ MARY + _and_ JOHN, _who stand by the door._ + +FATHER. Children, what are you doing? [_Children come out +confused._] + +MOTHER. Were you looking for Santa Claus? + +AUNT. Couldn't you wait for him? + +DICK. It's a whole year since we've seen him. + +FATHER. I wonder if he's changed any. + +DOT. Oh, I hope not. + +FATHER. We all love Santa Claus, don't we? He makes us think +of so many pleasant things. He always reminds me of---- + + FATHER. Holly! } + } + MOTHER. Mistletoe! } + } + AUNT. Evergreen! } + } All children [_rushing out_]: + DICK } Sleds! } "Merry Christmas, Merry + DOT } } Christmas, Merry Christmas!" + } + JOHN } Broomsticks! } + MARY } } + +DICK _and_ DOT. Hurrah, hurrah! We're going to have +a Christmas party, after all! + +FATHER. I never was so surprised in all my life. + +MOTHER. Nor the rest of us, either. + +CHILDREN. Goody, goody! Santa Claus is coming! + +FATHER. Three cheers for Santa Claus. All together! + +ALL. Rah! Rah! Rah! + +MOTHER. Santa Claus likes to have children quiet sometimes. +It's almost time for him to come now. I know he loves music. Suppose +we all sit down right where we are and sing. What shall we sing? + +DOT. Let's sing---- + + [_All sing a Christmas carol._ + +FATHER. Listen, do you hear anything? [_Silence._] + +CHILDREN. No, no! + +FATHER. Well, let's sing something about Santa Claus, and +see if that will bring him. [_They sing a Santa Claus song._] + + [_Enter_ SANTA CLAUS _through fireplace. Children + all jump up and gather around him._ + +SANTA CLAUS. Whew! What a large party! Do you think my pack +will hold out for so many? + +CHILDREN [_dancing excitedly_]. Yes! Yes! + +DICK. Santa Claus, before you begin, I want to ask you a +question. Here are Jim and Polly, and they have always wanted to see +you, but you never went to their house, nor gave them any presents, +and they say they know some more poor people that you never go to +see. We thought you went everywhere and gave everybody presents! Why +didn't you ever give anything to Jim and Polly? We don't think that's +quite fair, Santa Claus! + +SANTA CLAUS. I know, and I think I can explain to you. +[_Recites._] + + 'Tis true, my child, I can't but say + I have a very curious way + Of bringing presents to girls and boys + Who have least need of pretty toys, + And giving books, and dolls, and rings, + To those who already have such things. + 'Tis done for a very curious reason, + Suggested by the Christmas season. + Should I make my gifts to those who need, + 'Twould become a time of general greed, + When all would think, "What shall we get?" + "What shall we give?" they would quite forget. + So when I send my gifts to-day, + 'Tis a hint "You have plenty to give away." + And then I leave some poor ones out, + That the richer may find, as they look about, + Their opportunities close at hand, + In every corner of the land. + My token to those who in plenty live + Is a gentle reminder, meaning, + GIVE.[11] + +[Footnote 11: Quoted from _St. Nicholas_, by courtesy of Tudor Jenks +and The Century Company.] + +CHILDREN. Oh, yes, we see, and we'll try to remember. + +SANTA CLAUS. That's right. Now, can't we have another song? +I like to hear you singing. Let's have.... + + [_Carol, and distribution of presents._[12] + +[Footnote 12: See note on Tree, p. 314, and on Carols, p. 315.] + + +NOTES ON COSTUME AND SCENERY + +Ordinary costumes. Santa Claus (see note on costume, p. 313) should +be taken by a man, but the other adult parts are for boys and +girls from fourteen to eighteen. Two or three older boys enact the +homeward-bound pedestrians who merely cross the stage in Act I, and +Father Browne and John, in coats and hats, may be among these. + +The groups of children who come in at the end range from the very +smallest up to ten years. + +If scenery is available, place grocery store in first scene, at the +back, and keep the children well in the center. In changing the +scene, time can be gained by setting the first scene in front of the +interior, as very little space is needed for the first act. + +If scenery is not to be used, set grocery store less conspicuously +[_Right_], using screens and placing boxes and barrels before them. + + + + +THE CHRISTMAS BROWNIE + +IN ONE ACT + + +CHARACTERS + + FATHER BIRD. + MOTHER BIRD. + KITTY } { About twelve years old. + TED } { Boy of ten. + MARJORIE } The little Birds { Eight years old. + ROBIN } { Boy of seven. + LITTLE ROSE } { Little girl of six. + NURSE MAGGIE. + THE CHRISTMAS BROWNIE. (Boy of ten.) + _And_ SANTA CLAUS. + + +CHARACTERS IN TED'S DREAM + +(Series of tableaux at back of stage) + + I. Jack Horner. + II. Mrs. Santa Claus. + III. When Santa was Young. + IV. "Merry Christmas." (Little boy.) + V. "No Christmas." (Little boy and girl.) + VI. The Christmas Waits. (Four boys and four girls + from six to twelve years, who can sing.) + +The other children in the "Dream" should not be over eight years +old. + +[Illustration: THE BROWNIE] + + +THE CHRISTMAS BROWNIE + +TIME: _Christmas Eve. The story begins at tea-time in the +nursery, and ends on Christmas morning, the night being bridged over +by_ TED'S _dream._ + +SCENE: _Nursery, with fireplace,[13] across corner [Right], nursery +pictures on the walls, and toys scattered about. The children seated +on little chairs around a low table [L.], having just finished their +tea_--TED _at one end_, KITTY _opposite him_, MARJORIE _and_ ROSE +_on one side [facing the audience], and_ ROBIN _with his chair half +turned away from the table. Curtain rises, showing the children +singing a Christmas song, while the nurse goes in and out with a +tray, clearing the table. The little girls sit with hands folded_, +KITTY _sometimes helping the nurse, and the boys lounge comfortably +in their chairs. When the song is ended_, TED _leans his elbows on +the table._ + +[Footnote 13: See note on Fireplace, p. 313.] + +Any Christmas song will do. "Oh, Ring, Glad Bells" (from _Songs and +Games for Little Ones_[14]) is a very good one. + +[Footnote 14: See note on Carols, p. 315.] + + +KITTY. Oh, I do wish Papa and Mamma would get done their +supper and come up here! + +MARJORIE. Seems to me it takes twice as long to eat supper +in the dining-room as it does up here in the nursery! + +TED. Grown folks are so slow about it! + +ROBIN. Guess they have more to eat, too. + +NURSE. No, indeed, Master Robin, it's because they're polite +and don't eat so fast! + +MARJORIE. We do gobble just like Thanksgiving turkeys! + +KITTY. Rosy-posy never does. [_Patting little_ +ROSE.] + +TED. Pooh! Rosebud doesn't eat more'n a bite, anyway! + +ROSE. Maggie, please untie my bib. + +TED. I'll do it for you. [_Jumps up and unties it. The +others take theirs off, and the nurse carries them all away._] + +KITTY. Oh, I'm so excited! I don't believe I can sleep a +wink. + +MARJORIE. Don't you wish to-morrow would come quick? + +BOYS. You bet! + +MARJORIE. Santa Claus! + +KITTY. Christmas Tree! + +ROBIN. Sleds! + +TED. Candy! + +ROBIN. Big drums! + +BOYS [_drumming with fists on table_]. B-r-r-rum! B-r-rum! +Brum! Brum! Brum! + +KITTY [_covering her ears_]. Mercy! what a racket! Do be +quiet, boys! + +ROSE [_shaking her finger_]. Santa Claus'll hear you 'way up +at the North Pole! + +TED. I hope he's started on his travels before this, or he +won't get here for a week. + +ROBIN. Wouldn't you like to ride with him in his old sleigh, +though? + +TED. And help him fill the stockings! + +MARJORIE. I don't think I'd like going down chimneys much. + +KITTY. What a good chimney-sweep Santa Claus must make. + +ROBIN [_going to look up chimney_]. Oh, isn't it 'most time +to hang up the stockings? [_Comes to stand beside_ MARJORIE.] + +KITTY. Maggie has gone to get them, I think. + +ROSE. But, Sister, how will Santa Claus know which is which? + +KITTY. He'll know yours the minute he sees it, Pet. + +ROSE. Will he? + +TED. Sure! + +ROBIN. Oh, I say, Ted, wouldn't it be a joke if he got 'em +all mixed up, and put my things in Marjorie's stocking, and yours in +Kitty's! + +KITTY. He won't. He's such a wise old fellow that he always +knows, somehow. + +MARJORIE. Well, I should think it would be lots easier if we +marked them! It must be dreadfully hard for him to remember. + +TED. I'll tell you what! S'posing we write a list of the +things we want him to bring, too? + +ROBIN. Good for you, Ted. Then he won't have to remember all +the letters we've been writing him. + +MARJORIE. Give us some paper, quick, Kitty! + +KITTY [_gets paper and pencils from mantel_, TED +_helping her_]. If Santa Claus has to remember all the letters all +the children in the world write him every year, shouldn't you think +his head must ache? [_Divides paper among children. All sit at table +and write._] + +TED. Put your name at the top. + +MARJORIE. And the thing you want most, next. + +ROSE [_to_ KITTY]. Will Santa Claus mind if I print +mine? + +KITTY. No, indeed. He likes printing. + + [_All write busily for a few moments._ + +ROBIN. I'm done. Look at that! [_Holds it up._] + +KITTY. My! what a long list! + +ROSE. Oh-h-h! Santa Claus'll think you're greedy! + +ROBIN. I don't expect him to give me all those things. +That's just so he can choose. + +KITTY. Here come Papa and Mamma. Now, Ted, go get the +stockings. + + [_Exit_ TED. _Enter_ FATHER _and_ MOTHER, + _children crowding around them._ + +KITTY. Mamma, we've made lists---- + +ROBIN. Of the things we want---- + +KITTY. And we're going to pin them on our stockings---- + +MARJORIE. Because we thought we ought to save poor Santa +Claus all the trouble we could. + +MOTHER. What thoughtful children! I'm sure Santa Claus will +appreciate it. + +ROBIN. Now, sit down and write your lists, quick! + +FATHER [_laughing_]. Santa Claus will be frightened by such an array +of wants. [FATHER _and_ MOTHER _sit down and write._] + +FATHER. Do you think his pack will hold out? + +ROBIN [_with scorn_]. 'Course it will! That pack hasn't any +bottom at all. + +MARJORIE _and_ ROSE [_taking hands and dancing_]. +Oh, goody! goody! goody! + + [_Enter_ TED, _with_ MAGGIE, _who gives stockings + to the children and helps them to pin + on the lists._ + +FATHER. I don't see my sock anywhere. This surely isn't +mine! [_Holds up a long stocking._] + +MARJORIE. Oh, Papa, it would be too mean to hang up one of +your horrid little ones! + +ROBIN. No, sir! + +TED. Socks are no good on Christmas Eve. We've got one of +Mamma's for you. + +FATHER [_laughing_]. Oh, I see. Very well. But it's lucky +they're to be marked. Santa Claus would never in the world recognize +this one. + +MOTHER [_to_ ROBIN, _who is stretching his stocking +as much as possible_]. Robin, what are you doing? + +ROBIN. Just making it bigger. Now, come along. Papa's on the +first hook. [_All go to fireplace and hang stockings_, NURSE +_helping_ ROSE. _All stand back to gaze._] + +KITTY. Don't they make a fine show? + +BOYS. Hurrah! Hurrah! [_Children all clap._] + +MOTHER. Softly, children! [_To_ NURSE.] Maggie, +they will never go to sleep if they are so excited! [_To children._] +Sit down here a little while and sing some of your Christmas songs +before you go to bed. + +KITTY. Oh, no, Mamma, let Rosebud sing her song for us, and +we'll be quiet. + +MOTHER. Very well, dear. + +TED. Let her stand on the table, so everybody can hear. +Come, Rosy! [TED _and_ KITTY _help her up._ +FATHER _stands by fire_, MARJORIE _with her arm +about_ MOTHER, NURSE _in door_, KITTY +_sits on a corner of the table_, ROBIN _in a chair_, +TED _leaning over the back of it._ ROSE _sings, +"In another land and time." (From "Songs for Little Children.")[15] +When the song is ended_, MOTHER _comes forward, kisses_ +ROSE, _and lifts her down._] + +[Footnote 15: See p. 315.] + +MOTHER. Now, Maggie, take her to bed. [NURSE _leads +her out._] + +FATHER. Yes, it's high time you all went. Good-night, all of +you! + +CHILDREN. Good-night, Papa! Good-night, Mamma! + +ROBIN [_runs to fireplace, and bends over, shouting_]. +Good-night, Santa Claus! + +FATHER. Now, scamper, every one of you! [_Chases them +out_, MOTHER _follows. Stage darkened somewhat. Enter the_ +BROWNIE _suddenly, through fireplace. Stands (Center) for a +moment, finger on lips, then rushes to door, peeps out, comes back, +looks under table, and then, as if satisfied, goes to stockings, and +stands examining them, feet wide apart, and hands on hips. Comes to_ +FATHER'S, _measures it with his hands, then lifts it by the +toe, and points to it, grinning. Doubles up with laughter. Suddenly +puts his hand to his ear, and bends over, listening. Rushes to door, +runs back, and vanishes in chimney. Enter_ TED.] + +TED [_softly_]. I just can't go to bed yet. Robin went to +sleep the very minute he got into bed. Don't see how he could. Maggie +thinks I'm all nicely tucked in, and she's gone downstairs. [_Goes +to fireplace and looks up chimney._] I do wish I could catch Santa +Claus. No signs of him yet, and I don't hear the sleigh-bells. I +think I'll just sit down and wait. [_Crosses to his own chair, and +sits facing audience, with one elbow on table._] I believe I could +give Santa Claus a few pointers, anyway. [BROWNIE _puts his +head out of fireplace, and then shows himself entirely, gradually +creeping nearer and nearer_ TED, _as if irresistibly drawn +by his remarks._] He does give people pretty much what they ask for, +but [_slowly_] if he just stopped a minute to think about it, he'd +find out what silly things they do think they want, sometimes. But +[_sighs_] he's getting so old that he doesn't find it out at all. +[BROWNIE, _behind him, raises his hands in horror, then +shakes his fist at_ TED.] I really think it would be a good +thing for Santa Claus to choose one person in each family to help him +out,--with the planning, anyway, if he doesn't like to have anyone +else fill the stockings. S'posing he chose me! I could help him a +lot! [BROWNIE _springs excitedly on the table, and bends +over_ TED, _shaking his fist in his face._] + +TED [_jumps up, and stands off a little way_]. Wow! +Wha--wha---- Who are you? + +BROWNIE [_folds his arms and looks contemptuously down on_ +TED]. _Who_ is this impertinent snip of a boy who dares to +insinuate that my master, Santa Claus, is too old and decrepit to do +his work any longer? + +TED. Indeed, indeed, I didn't say that! + +BROWNIE [_wrathfully_]. What did you say, then? It sounded +very much like it. [_Shakes his head fiercely._] + +TED. I--I--I just said--that I think he makes mistakes +sometimes. + +BROWNIE [_sitting down cross-legged on the table_]. Very +well, we'll just have this matter settled at once. Sit down, now, +and let me hear what you have to say. [TED _backs away from +his chair._] No, that won't do. Sit down, I tell you. [TED +_reluctantly obeys, pulling his chair to a safe distance, and +sitting astride of it._] Now then, young sir, will you tell me what +complaints you have to register against your last year's stocking? +Wasn't everything in it that you asked for? + +TED [_anxious to appease_]. Oh, yes! and more, too! + +BROWNIE. And wasn't everything in it in perfect order? Was +anything broken? + +TED [_emphatically_]. No! Everything was just out of sight! + +BROWNIE. And weren't all the cracks stuffed tight with candy +and nuts and raisins? + +TED. I should say they were! + +BROWNIE. Then I'd like to know the meaning of this discontent! You +twentieth-century boys are a set of ungrateful young scamps, who +get the best of everything, and then complain of it, and break it +up in three days' time. Santa Claus is spoiling you, _I_ say! Boys +a hundred years ago were thankful for the slates and schoolbooks we +gave them, and the girls were happy enough over corncob dolls. Now +you must have steam-engines, and motors, and automobiles, and dolls +that walk and talk, and are so full of cogs and wheels that no real +flesh-and-blood little girl could love them at all. I tell you, in +all my thousand years of existence, I have never met anything so +grasping as the modern children! [_Talks so loud and gesticulates so +wildly that_ TED _backs away again._] + +TED [_meekly_]. Please, Mr.--Mr. Brownie, I didn't mean +that! Honest Injun, I didn't! + +BROWNIE. Well, then, explain yourself! + +TED. I--I--I was just thinking that people ask Santa Claus +for such f-foolish things that it's a wonder he gives them anything +at all. + +BROWNIE. Foolish! I should think they were! + +TED. And if there was anybody that could tell Santa Claus +about it, it would save him a lot of trouble. + +BROWNIE. And you think you could manage things better, do +you? + +TED. I didn't say that,--I said I would like to help. + +BROWNIE [_scratches his nose, scowling very hard_]. See +here. Suppose I let you try. Santa Claus is unusually busy to-night, +and is sending a great number of his Brownies out to fill stockings. +I was to look out for this house, among several hundred others, and +I--a--well, I have a fancy that I should enjoy letting you help. + +TED. Oh, _will_ you, really? + +BROWNIE [_jumping off table_]. Yes, I have about made up my +mind to let you into the secrets of the business. You can learn a few +things, I think. + +TED. Good for you! Thank you, ever so much. + +BROWNIE. Never mind. Wait till to-morrow before you thank +me. [_Grins meaningly._] Now, let's be quick about this--the time is +getting short. We'll just go over these lists together, and you can +tell me what improvements to make. [_They go to the first stocking._] + +TED. Shall I get you a paper to write things down, so you +won't forget? + +BROWNIE [_shouts angrily_]. Forget! + +TED. Yes, I thought maybe since you're so old---- + +BROWNIE. That shows all you know about it! Of course there's +some excuse for _your_ forgetting, since your memory is only ten +years long, but _mine's_ a thousand years long, and I never forget +anything! Come, read me this list. + +TED [_reading_]. "Encyclopedia Britannica." Now Papa can't +possibly want that, because he knows all about everything already. +And besides, I heard Mamma say she hadn't a bit of room for any +more books. "New knife." He did say his old one was dull, but it's +altogether too sharp for Robin and me to use, and that's sharp enough +for anybody! "New pocketbook." Why, he said the other day he hadn't +any money to put into it, so I don't see what good that'll do him. +"Key ring." If he has that, he'll put _all_ the keys on it, and there +won't be any for Robin and me to drop lead through. [_Turns to the_ +BROWNIE.] So, you see, there isn't a thing that he really +wants on that list. + +BROWNIE. Oh, certainly not! + +TED. Now, Mamma's. "Half a dozen new bibs." Bibs! They don't +belong on her list. She can't have that! "Little rocking-chair." Now, +if she has a _little_ rocking-chair, there won't be any room for us +on the arms of it,--that wouldn't do at all. "A rose vase." All her +vases are broken now, and if she had another, Maggie'd just smash it, +too, so what's the use in giving it to her? [_Turns to list._] What's +all this at the bottom? "Most of all, five _good_ boys and girls to +live with till next Christmas"! Jiminy Christopher, how _can_ she +want five more? + +BROWNIE [_significantly_]. She didn't say "_more_." + +TED [_claps his hand over his mouth_]. Oh!... P'r'aps she +didn't mean that! P'r'aps she meant _us_! [_Stares thoughtfully +before him._] + +BROWNIE. Hurry up! Look at this one. + +TED. That's Kitty's. Let's see. "A boy doll and a girl +doll." Now, don't you think Kitty's altogether too big for dolls? I +suppose _little_ girls must have dolls, but they're terribly silly +things. "Half a Dozen Girls." That's nothing but an old girl's book. +Give her stories about fights and Indians and bears to read to us. +"Paper dolls." There it is again. "Napkin ring." Now, that's the +only sensible thing she's got down.... This one's mine. I won't stop +to read that, because I only put down the things I've _got_ to have. +Let's see if I can read Robin's. [_Puzzles over it._] + +BROWNIE [_reading_ TED'S _list_]. "Boxing-gloves. +Baseball. Roller-coaster. Skates. Boots. Marbles." + +TED. Oh, now I see what it is. "Rubber boots." He doesn't need +those. I'm going to have some new ones, and my others aren't much +too big for him. "Marbles." He's got more marbles now 'n' any boy +I know. "Top. Kite"--this isn't the time of year for those things. +Never mind, I'll tell you what he wants in a minute. Now, Margie. +"Dolls" again. She's got three dozen if she's got one! "Music-box." +Pshaw! they just go and smash right away. "Paints." She'd paint up +all the chairs and tables in the house and nobody would like it a +bit. "Little stove"--that might be nice,--but I'm afraid she'd burn +herself. You see, _she_ hasn't got anything good on her list, either. +Now, Rose comes last of all. [_Looks at_ ROSE'S _list a moment._] +Well, I guess Rosebud ought to have everything she's asked for. +[_Turns to_ BROWNIE, _and the two walk away from the fire._] Now, +didn't I tell you how it was? People want such silly things! Now, +I'll tell you what to bring instead. [_Puts his arm across_ BROWNIE'S +_shoulder, and whispers in his ear, pointing to one stocking after +another._] ... Now, I guess that's all. It was awfully good of you to +let me help, and I know they'll all be pleased. [_Walks around table, +sits with his back to audience. Stretches his arms above his head, +and yawns aloud._] I really believe I could go to sleep now. [_Drops +his head on his hands._ BROWNIE _waves his wand above_ TED, _who +gradually sinks down, head on arms, fast asleep._] + +BROWNIE. Now I guess he's in for a good night's sleep. +Little scamp! He ought to have some kind of a trick played on him, +but Santa Claus forbids any pranks on Christmas Eve. [_Crosses to +fireplace._] What _shall_ I do about these stockings, anyway? These +poor children are going to be dreadfully disappointed to-morrow +if I keep my promise to that scallywag, Ted. Perhaps I'd better +telephone Santa Claus about it. [_Takes up the toe of a stocking +and speaks through it, moving it from mouth to ear as he speaks or +listens._] Hello! Hello, there! North Pole! Please connect me with +Santa Claus.... Hello, is that you, Santa? I want to consult you +about some doubtful business.... Yes, sir, Mr. Bird's house.... His +boy is making a dreadful mess with these stockings.... He wants them +all filled with presents for himself.... What's that you say? Let +him try it?... Be a good lesson for him?... All right, sir! Thank +you. Any trouble with icebergs? No?... That's good.... All right, +good-by! [_Drops stocking._] Well, I must see it through, then, I +suppose. [_Takes down the stockings and carries them into the chimney +two at a time. When the last is carried out, he brings them back in +the same order, filled. To avoid delay, a double set is prepared, +the_ BROWNIE _leaving the empty ones and bringing the full +ones instead._] Well, he's pretty generous to himself, anyway. And he +thinks it's all for their good! [_Walks over and stands looking at_ +TED.] I'll just say good-night to you, now, young man.... +No! before I go, I believe I'll give you a few Christmas dreams. +[_Waves his wand and walks slowly to back of stage. Scene darkened, +lights thrown on secondary stage, where the curtains part and +reveal tableaux as the_ BROWNIE'S _song calls for them.[16] +He stands at back, unseen. Raise curtain before the end of verse +describing picture._] + +[Footnote 16: See note, p. 119.] + + +BROWNIE'S SONG + +Air: "Fly, Little Birds."[17] + +[Footnote 17: "Songs and Games for Little Ones" (p. 89). See +Suggestions for Carols, p. 315.] + + Come, Christmas dreams, from Fairyland! + Come, at the beckoning of my wand. + 'Tis Christmas Eve, so bring with you + Bright holly-berries and mistletoe, too. + + I. Now first we have, all full of glee, + A youth well known to you and me. + His fondest hopes have now become + Reality--he's found a plum! + +Tableau: Jack Horner. + + II. Dear Santa Claus we've always known, + But Mrs. Santa, full of fun, + Helps her good husband every year, + Or else he'd never get done, I fear. + +Tableau: Mrs. Santa Claus. + + III. When Santa Claus was young and gay, + And full of fun, like boys to-day, + He learned that youth's the key to joy, + And so, you see, he's still a boy. + +Tableau: When Santa Claus was young. + + IV. This little lad, with happy smile, + Of toys and candies has a pile. + Good Santa filled his stocking, so-- + A Merry Christmas he has, I know. + +Tableau: "Merry Christmas." + + V. But there are children not far away, + Who scarce know the meaning of Christmas Day. + O share with these, ye whose plenteous store + Can fill a dozen homes or more. + +Tableau: "No Christmas." + + VI. The Christmas Waits, in times of old, + Sang carols sweet, though the night was cold, + And wandered thus, from door to door, + Till morning dawned, in days of yore. + +Tableau: The Christmas Waits. [_The curtain does not rise until the +verse is ended, then shows empty stage. The_ WAITS _begin +their carol behind the scenes, marching single file till the first +couple is opposite the opening, when they turn, join hands, and enter +two by two. The march of the_ WAITS _may be as simple or +as elaborate as desired, or as the size of the stage permits. Or +they may walk to the footlights, and stand there during a part of +their song. The smallest couple should, of course, lead. The stage, +darkened for the earlier tableaux, should be made bright for this +march. At the end of the march, the_ WAITS _pass out as they +entered, and the back curtain is dropped._][18] + +[Footnote 18: Carol used by Waits: "Noël! Noël! the Christ is born" +(p. 62, "Songs and Games for Little Ones"). No better marching song +can be found. See Suggestions for Carols, p. 315.] + + [_The_ BROWNIE _comes forward and stands by_ + TED, _tapping him with the wand._ + +BROWNIE. Merry Christmas, Ted! It has come at last! [_Rushes +away and vanishes in chimney._] + +TED [_sits up, stretches, yawns, rubs his eyes, and looks +around_]. Why! I do believe I've slept here all night! [_Sits on +table._] And, my! maybe you think I haven't been dreaming! Guess I'll +go see what time it is. [_Goes to door, turns, and sees stockings._] +Jiminy Christmas, just look at those stockings! [_Exit._] + + [_Enter_ NURSE _with duster. Sees stockings._ + +NURSE. Well, well! did I ever! Santa Claus has been pretty +good to them this year. + +MARJORIE [_without, calling_]. Maggie! Maggie! Mamma says we +may have our stockings right off now. Please bring them to us, quick! + +NURSE. That I will, Miss Margie, fast as ever I can! [_Lifts +them down._] Crammed full, I declare! and heavy!--heavy as that +good-for-nothing Bridget's cake! + + [_Exit_ NURSE. _Enter_ BROWNIE, _cautiously + following her to door._ + +BROWNIE [_peeping out_]. I've got to see the end of this +experiment! [_Flies back to chimney and hides._] + + [_Enter_ NURSE. + +NURSE [_dusting_]. Old Santa Claus is mighty good to these +children. Fills up stockings like those, and then comes himself and +brings a tree on top of all that. They must be pets of his. + + [_Enter_ TED _dejectedly, sits down, and drops + his head on his arms._ + +NURSE. Dear, dear! whatever is the matter, Master Ted? + +TED [_darkly_]. Oh, go downstairs, Maggie, and you'll see! + +NURSE. Mercy on us! what's happened? [_Shakes him._] + +TED. Oh, dear, oh, dear! the children don't like their +stockings! + +NURSE. What's that you say? + +TED [_very despairingly_]. Oh, go away! Go downstairs, and +you'll see. + +NURSE [_in tragic tones_]. Such a thing never happened in +this blessed house before! [_Rushes out._] + +TED [_sitting up_]. Oh, dear, what shall I do about it? It's just +dreadful, and it's all my fault. [BROWNIE _pokes his head out._] They +don't want my things, either, or I'd be glad to give them all I got. +[_Puts his head down again. Enter_ KITTY, MARJORIE, _and_ ROBIN, +_disconsolately. Girls sit by fire_, ROBIN _at table._] + +ROBIN. Well, Kitty, do you think Santa Claus couldn't _read_ +our letters? + +KITTY. I don't know _what_ to think! + +MARJORIE. Well, how could he make such dreadful mistakes? + +ROBIN [_rubbing his eyes_]. Didn't bring one single thing I +asked for--didn't bring a thing but books and puzzles! + +KITTY [_elbows on knees and chin in hands_]. Brought me a +box of fishing tackle--and I just _hate_ to fish! + +MARJORIE [_putting handkerchief to eyes_]. He gave me big +rubber boots--and I don't _like_ to wade in the brook--I'm afraid of +_snakes_! + + [TED, _in the depths of woe, slips to the floor + and rests his head on his chair._ + +ROBIN. Don't see why Ted feels so badly--Santa Claus gave +him everything he asked for! + +KITTY. Yes, and Rosy's stocking was all right. I'm glad she +got what she wanted--bless her little heart! + +MARJORIE [_suddenly_]. Oh, Kitty, what shall we do when +Santa Clans comes and asks us how we liked them? + +KITTY. I don't care--I _can't_ thank him for those horrid +old fish-hooks! + +ROBIN [_with decision_]. I'm just going to tell him he can +take his puzzles and give them to some other boy! + + [_Enter_ FATHER _and_ MOTHER, _sharing the + general gloom._ + +FATHER [_in a puzzled tone_]. It's the most singular thing! + +MOTHER. I never heard of Santa Claus making a mistake before. + +FATHER. Two empty cigar boxes in my stocking! + +TED [_aside, dismally_]. Those were for Robin and me to make +lanterns of! + +FATHER. I'm sure I don't know who wants those! + +MOTHER. And a roll of the muslin I make sails of for the +boys' boats, in my stocking! With some old rags! + +TED [_aside again_]. Kite-tails! + +FATHER. Well, Santa Claus has certainly lost his mind! + +MOTHER. Well, he'll be here very soon, and perhaps we shall +find out what these queer presents mean. [_Looks at her watch._] +Come, children, you must get your faces washed, and look as bright as +you can for him. + +FATHER. Perhaps, after all, it's just some joke of his. + + [_Exeunt all but_ TED. + +TED [_jumping up_]. I know! I'll see Santa Claus first, and +_beg_ him to take back these things---- [_Runs to fireplace, calling +softly._] Oh, Santa Claus! Santa Claus! _do_ hurry! [_Sleigh bells in +distance._] Oh, Santa Claus! + +SANTA CLAUS [_up chimney_]. Who's that I hear calling me? + +TED. It's me--me--me! Ted Bird! Oh, _please_ hurry! + +SANTA CLAUS. Yes, yes! But this chimney's such a tight +squeeze! [_Loud jingling._] + +TED. Oh, please be quiet! Please don't make such a noise! + + [_Enter_ SANTA CLAUS, _through fireplace, bowing + low to_ TED. + +SANTA CLAUS. Not make a noise? I'd just like to know who has +a better right to make a noise than I? + +TED. Oh, yes, I know, but I _must_ speak to you before the +others come in! [_Pulls up a chair, stands on it, and puts his arm +across_ SANTA CLAUS' _shoulders._] + +SANTA CLAUS. What's all this secrecy about? + +TED. It's just this, Santa Claus. The Brownie let me help +him last night, and I told him such nice things to put in the +stockings, and now nobody likes them, and everything's in a terrible +muddle! + +SANTA CLAUS. Oho! So you've been finding out that it isn't +so easy, after all, to give people what they want, have you? + +TED. But, Santa Claus, I truly thought they would like it, +and now it's just dreadful! What shall I do? If you'll only give them +what they _do_ want, you can take back all my things! I wish you +would! Don't you think you could, just for this once? [ROSE +_runs in._] + +ROSE. Oh, Santa Claus! Santa Claus! [_Exit, calling._] +Come, Papa, come, Mamma, here's Santa Claus! Robin! Marjorie! Kitty! +[_Enter all. The older children hang back_, ROSE _runs to_ +SANTA CLAUS _and stands by him._] + +FATHER [_shaking hands with_ SANTA CLAUS]. How do +you do, sir, how do you do? + +MOTHER. We're very glad to see you again, Santa Claus. +[_Motions others to come_, NURSE _also urging them in +pantomime._] + +SANTA CLAUS [_patting_ ROSE'S _head, and looking +at other children_]. I hear there are some children here who weren't +pleased with what I brought them. How's this? [_Children turn away, +and hang their heads in embarrassment._] + +SANTA CLAUS [_to_ FATHER]. What does this mean? Can +you explain it, Mr. Bird? + +FATHER. Well--a--you see, the stockings really weren't +filled after your usual thoughtful manner. + +SANTA CLAUS [_bursts into a loud laugh, at which the +children turn in injured astonishment_]. Well, well! That's a good +joke! + +KITTY [_in an injured tone_]. We didn't think it was a joke +at all, Santa Claus. + +SANTA CLAUS. Well, my dear, you will when I tell you about +it. You see, I had a new helper, last night, and it wasn't to be +expected that one so new to the business wouldn't make some mistakes. +Well, this one made a good many,---- [_to_ TED] didn't he? + +TED [_dolefully_]. I should think he did! He didn't do +anything else at all! + +SANTA CLAUS. But when he found out about it, he felt very +badly, indeed,---- [_to_ TED] didn't he? + +TED. He never felt worse in his life! + +SANTA CLAUS. So he came to me and begged me to fix the +matter for him, and I've agreed to do it. He never suspected that I +knew about it before he told me, but I did know, all the time, and +so I've come prepared to make it up to you for all the trouble Ted +caused---- + +ALL. _Ted!_ + +SANTA CLAUS. Yes, Ted. [_With pretended fierceness._] He +meddled with my business last night. + +CHILDREN [_shocked_]. Oh, Santa Claus! + +SANTA CLAUS. But I'm going to forgive him, because I think +he learned a good many things about Christmas while he was at it. And +I never _could_ bear to see anyone unhappy when I pay my yearly call, +so come along, children, come, Father and Mother Bird, and we'll see +if we can't find something to suit you all under the branches of my +Tree![19] + +[Footnote 19: See note on Tree, p. 314, and Tree-song, p. 315.] + + [_Unveiling of Christmas Tree follows. Children + mingle with audience, and general + distribution of presents takes place._ + + +NOTES ON COSTUME, SETTING, AND PRESENTATION + +For the parents, nurse, and children, ordinary costumes. Adult parts +taken by older girls and boy. Ages of children as indicated in cast. + +BROWNIE. Wears a close-fitting suit of dark brown canton +flannel, with trimmings of lighter brown or tan--a small collar, +cuffs, and a belt with long points. The shoes are long, with points +turned up at the toes, and the cap, close-fitting, hides the hair +and covers the neck at the back, but allows the ears to show. It is +finished with a point (stuffed and wired to keep it upright) which +comes from the back and curves above the head. + +All the Brownie's actions and motions should be startlingly sudden +and swift. He should alternate between absolute stillness, and a +quickness like a wild bird's. + +A great deal of humor can be put into the scene of disappointment +over the stockings, especially by the older girls and boy who play +the adult parts. + +Prepare a double set of stockings, one empty, the other filled; the +Brownie carries out the empty ones, and returns with the full ones. +As these are not examined on the stage, they may be stuffed with +anything that is most convenient. Have in readiness a row of small +hooks on the mantel, for hanging them. + +For SANTA CLAUS' costume, see note, p. 313. + + +COSTUMES IN THE "DREAM" + +JACK HORNER. May be dressed, if desired, in Kate Greenaway +style, but ordinary costume is all that is required. Jack recites the +nursery rhyme, at the end pulling a large plum out of a brown paper +pie. + +MRS. SANTA CLAUS. A plump little girl in a long dark dress, +white apron and kerchief, big white cap with wide frill, and large +spectacles on her nose. One hand holds the corner of her apron full +of toys, the other is stretched out as if dispensing gifts to the +children. + +YOUNG SANTA CLAUS. Little boy in boots, thick coat, toboggan +cap and mittens, well covered with white cotton snow, and sprinkled +at the last moment with diamond dust. He stands with one hand on a +tall red chimney, the other just lifting his heavy pack of toys. +Make chimney by covering a long dry-goods box with red, and painting +bricks with ordinary black ink. Set on stage for this tableau. + +"Merry Christmas." Little boy, daintily dressed, his arms full of +toys, with a drum, a horse, etc., piled at his feet. + +"No Christmas." A very ragged boy and girl. The boy stands with his +left arm around his little sister, his right hand holding hers. The +child looks up into his face confidingly. + +The Christmas Waits. Four boys and four girls between six and +twelve years of age. These children may be elaborately dressed, +after Seventeenth Century pictures, or very simply--the girls in +white kerchiefs and caps, the boys in short capes of any dull black +material, with steeple hats, made of cardboard covered with black. +These children should have good voices for the carol, "Noël! Noël! +the Christ is born!"[20] March as described in text. + +[Footnote 20: See note, p. 315.] + +These tableaux are arranged on a small stage or platform behind scene +at back, upon which the light is concentrated, the main stage being +darkened. Properties should be in readiness, and the children must be +taught to take their poses quickly and without noise. + +For this small stage or platform a kindergarten table serves +excellently, covered with dark green, a step being placed for the +use of the Waits in their march. If practicable, a curtain made +to match the scene, and rise for the tableaux, may be used, but +plain curtains, hung like portières, and parting in the center, are +also effective. Attention should not in any way be drawn to this +curtain, in order that the first tableau may come as a surprise to +the audience. The point of chief importance is that, whatever the +arrangement of the curtain, it should work silently and without +hitch. + + + + +A PURITAN CHRISTMAS + +IN TWO ACTS + + +CHARACTERS + + MISTRESS DELIGHT GOODSPEEDE. + ROGER } + MYLES } + NATHAN } Her children. + PATIENCE } + PRUDENCE } + EAGLEFEATHER, son of an Indian chief. + ELDER JONATHAN HOPKINS } + DEACON WILLIAM PORTER } + GOODMAN JOHN TURNER } + DOMINIE PETER COBB } + GILBERT APPLETON, a hunter } + MISTRESS SUBMIT WELLS } Colonists + MISTRESS PRAISEVER PORTER } + DESIRE PORTER } + } and + REUBEN TURNER } + GERSHOM PORTER } + JARED PERKINS } Children + JANE PORTER } + PRISCILLA WELLS } + +_The action takes place in a small New England village, not far from +Boston, in the early days of the colonies._ + +[Illustration: PRUDENCE] + +[Illustration: EAGLEFEATHER] + + +A PURITAN CHRISTMAS + +Suggested by a story in _St. Nicholas_ for December, 1880, by S.J. +Prichard.[21] + +[Footnote 21: By courtesy of Miss K.A. Prichard and The Century +Company.] + + +ACT I + +TIME: _Evening of December 18th._ + +SCENE: _Kitchen in_ MISTRESS GOODSPEEDE'S _cottage, a simple and +bare little room. Open fireplace[22] [R.], with exit beside it +supposed to lead to loft. Back R., door; L., window, opening upon a +desolate winter scene. L., door, leading to another chamber. Down L., +a spinning-wheel. Furniture, a few plain chairs and stools, and a +settle. By the window a table where little_ PRUDENCE _and_ PATIENCE +_are washing the supper dishes._ PATIENCE _stands upon a stool in +order to reach the dishpan more easily_, PRUDENCE _wipes the dishes +and lays them on the table._ + +[Footnote 22: See note on Fireplace, p. 313.] + + +PATIENCE [_severely_]. Prudence, if thee's not very careful, +I know thee'll drop the platter! + +PRUDENCE. Oh, no! Patience, I'm being very careful. I +wouldn't let it drop for anything. It's Mother's very best platter, +too. + +PATIENCE. And if thee broke it, who knows if dear Mother +could ever get a new one? She hath told me many a time she brought it +with her from Old England, and she saith the like cannot be found +here--even in Boston town. + +PRUDENCE [_gives it an admiring look, then lays it +cautiously on the table_]. I'm sure it's the most beautiful platter +that ever was seen. Are there many more dishes, Patience, dear? + +PATIENCE [_in a motherly tone_]. No. Poor little maid, I +fear me thou'rt very weary. Here--just these cups, and I'll help +thee. [_Gets down from stool and helps to wipe one or two cups._] +Where are the boys, I wonder? You and I, Prudence, can never, never +reach to put the dishes away on the shelf. + +PRUDENCE. No, but brother Roger or Myles can do it. Mother +says they grow like tall weeds. + +PATIENCE. And the parson says they are brave striplings. +[_Sighs._] I would I were tall and strong. Then I should never be +afraid of---- + +PRUDENCE [_looks fearfully over her shoulder_]. Afraid of +_what_, Patience? + +PATIENCE [_putting her arm around_ PRUDENCE]. Oh, +never mind, Prudence, dear, not afraid of, of--_anything_. + +PRUDENCE [_pushes her back and shakes her finger_], I know, +Patience, thee was going to say--Indians! Oh, Patience, doesn't thee +wish Mother'd come home? [_Lays her head on_ PATIENCE'S +_shoulder._ MYLES _and_ NATHAN _pass the window._] + +PATIENCE. Never mind, sister, here come Myles and Nathan. +[_Enter the boys._] Myles, has thee seen Roger? + +NATHAN. Roger has gone to fetch our Mother home. + +PRUDENCE [_going to table_]. Oh, Myles, won't thee please put the +dishes up for us? Patience and I are far too little. [NATHAN _and_ +PRUDENCE _carry dishes one at a time to_ MYLES, _who puts them on +mantel._ PATIENCE _wrings out her dishcloth._] + +MYLES. Where is Mother, Patience? + +PATIENCE. Mistress Submit Wells hath a fever, and after +supper Mother went to see if there was aught she could do to help. + +NATHAN [_looking out of the window_]. I see Mother and Roger +coming up the hill now. + +PATIENCE. Quick, Nathan! Empty the pan for us! +[PATIENCE _opens the door for_ NATHAN, _who carries +pan out._ PATIENCE _hangs up dishcloth in haste._] Mother +must find everything neat when she comes. + + [_Re-enter_ NATHAN, _putting pan in cupboard + or under table._ + +MYLES [_mockingly_]. Thou art a great housewife, Patience. + +PRUDENCE [_joyfully_]. Here they are! + + [_Enter_ MOTHER _and_ ROGER. PRUDENCE, + PATIENCE, _and_ NATHAN _gather about her + while she takes off her cape and follow her + to the door (L.) when she puts it away._ + ROGER, _hanging up his hat, goes to fire._ + +PATIENCE. How did thee find Mistress Wells, Mother? + +MOTHER. Much better to-night, daughter. + +PRUDENCE [_catching at her skirts_]. Thou'lt not go back, +then, Mother? + +MOTHER. No, little Prudence, not to-night. + +ROGER. It's fearsome cold out. Do stir the fire, Myles. +[_Warms his hands, while_ MYLES _stirs fire._] + +NATHAN. Then come sit down with us by the fire, Mother. Thee +surely won't work any more to-night? + +MOTHER. I am willing, Nathan, but I must be knitting. With +three great lads who wear out so many stockings, I am kept more than +busy, even if the good parson did not exhort us never to be idle. +[_Exit and re-enter with knitting._] + +PATIENCE [_drawing up her_ MOTHER'S _chair and +arranging stools_]. Here, Mother, here's thy big chair. Prudence and +I will get our stools. Oh, Roger, do get out of the way! Make haste! +Thee's such a giant thee'll block the firelight out entirely. + + [ROGER _gets up and stands before the fire, + while the_ MOTHER _sits down_, PRUDENCE + _beside her with a corncob doll and_ PATIENCE + _at her knee, also knitting._ MYLES + _sits with his back against the chimney and_ + NATHAN _lies at full length before the + fire._ + +ROGER [_good-humoredly_]. What a pity thee didn't name that +child _Im_patience, Mother. It would become her so much better. + +MOTHER [_while_ PATIENCE _bends her face low over +her knitting_]. Does thee think it would make it any easier for her +to be good, Roger? + +ROGER. Well, I'm glad thou gavest us good sober English +names. I'm sure 'twould never help me to be good if I had been named +Hate-Evil, like Elder Hopkins' son. Think of it--Hate-Evil Hopkins! + +MYLES. And if Father had called me Love-the-Truth or +Have-Courage, instead of naming me after our fine Captain Standish, I +know I never would have tried half so hard to be brave and truthful. + +MOTHER. _That_ was what Father cared for, Myles, whatever +thy name might have been. + +ROGER. One of us is fitly named, at any rate, Mother, and +that is thyself, Mistress Delight Goodspeede! [_Bows._] + +PATIENCE. Yes, Mother _is_ our Delight. + +MYLES. And everybody's else, too. + +MOTHER [_laughing_]. Take care, children, you will make me +vain, and then the parson will preach a whole sermon about vanity, +and call out in the midst of it, "Delight Goodspeede, stand forth!" + +ROGER. How terrible! [_All laugh._] + +NATHAN. He calleth vanity a light and shallow thing, but +I'll warrant me he would turn his hour-glass at the least four times +while he discoursed upon it. + +MYLES. More terrible still! + + [_All laugh again. A knock at the door._ + ROGER _goes to answer it_, NATHAN _sits up + with interest, and_ PRUDENCE, _who has been + walking her corncob doll up and down, + rushes to her_ MOTHER'S _chair._ + +ROGER [_his hand on the lock_]. Who knocks? + +INDIAN [_without_]. Eaglefeather! + +ROGER [_turning to his_ MOTHER]. Mother, 'tis the +Indian boy you helped when he was wounded last winter. May I let him +in? + +MOTHER. He hath always been friendly. Open for him, Roger. + +ROGER [_opening the door_]. Come in, Eaglefeather! Thou'rt +right welcome. + + [_Enter_ INDIAN, _bow in hand._ MYLES _and_ + NATHAN _go to him._ + +MOTHER. What does he want, Roger? Mayhap he is hungry. + +ROGER [_pointing to his mouth_]. Hungry, Eaglefeather? Want +something to eat? Bread? + +INDIAN [_shakes his head_]. No hungry. Braves go hunt. +[_Draws his bow._] Kill much, much, much deer. [_Spreads out his +arms._] No hungry; cold. [_Folds his arms and shivers._] Can warm? +[_Boys bring him to fire._] + +MOTHER. Yes, indeed; make room for him, boys. + +MYLES. He can stay as long as he likes, mayn't he, Mother? + +MOTHER [_smiles and nods at the boy_]. Yes, we know he is +our friend. We trust him. + +NATHAN. Doesn't thee remember how he taught us to shoot, and +make baskets for thee and the girls? + +INDIAN. Hmph! Eaglefeather teach young brave much more some +day. Many, many new thing. + +NATHAN. Oh, that is good news. What things, Eaglefeather? + +INDIAN. Eaglefeather not tell. Eaglefeather show, to-morrow. +Tired now. March long, long time. + +MOTHER. Yes, poor lad. Let him rest now, boys. + + [INDIAN _lies before fire_, ROGER _and_ MYLES + _as before_, NATHAN _behind_ MOTHER'S + _chair._ + +ROGER. Thou'rt always the one to think of making folks +comfortable, Mother. What would Mistress Wells say if she saw +Eaglefeather here now? + +MYLES. He never would be beside _her_ kitchen fire. + +NATHAN. Not if he was frozen stiff. + +MOTHER. For shame, boys; Mistress Wells hath been very kind +to us. + +PATIENCE. I think she is a very sour-visaged woman, and I +can't see why thee wants to help her. + + [MOTHER _gazes thoughtfully into the + fire._ + +ROGER [_watching her_]. I know what Mother is thinking of! + +MOTHER. Tell us, then, Roger, if thou be a wizard. + +ROGER. Mother is thinking that in Old England this is +Yule-tide---- + +MOTHER. Verily, I believe thou _art_ a wizard, Roger, for +thou'st guessed aright! + +MYLES _and_ NATHAN. Tell us about the Yule-tide, +Mother. + +PRUDENCE. Is _this_ the Christmas day, Mother? + +ROGER. No, Prudence. It's the twenty-fifth that is +Christmas. Isn't it, Mother? + +MYLES. Just a week from to-day? + +MOTHER. Yes, children, just a week from to-day it will be +Christmas in Old England. + +PATIENCE. But why did Mistress Wells make thee think of +Christmas? + +MOTHER. 'Twas what Myles said about Mistress Wells and +Eaglefeather here. 'Twas because Christmas in my father's home in Old +England was the time of all others when people did kind and friendly +deeds, when poor folks came to the houses of rich men without fear of +being driven away, and our homes were open to all who needed food and +warmth. + +PRUDENCE [_wonderingly_]. Why, then, Mother, I think it must +have been like heaven! + +NATHAN. Mother, doesn't thee sometimes wish we were all back +in England once more? + +MOTHER [_earnestly_]. Never wish that, my son. + +MYLES. Not after all the bitter cold winters and hardships +here, Mother? + +MOTHER. 'Tis the very hardships we have endured that will +build up a new and better England for us here, Myles---- But the Old +Christmas was a happy time. + + [EAGLEFEATHER, _who has been sleeping, sits + up, and from this point listens intently._ + +ROGER. Won't thee tell us more about it, then? + +MOTHER. I've told thee many times already, Roger, how the +great Yule-log was brought in and lighted on Christmas Eve--such a +monster log that it would burn until Twelfth Night. We always saved +a bit of it, then, to light the next year's log. The old folks said +that was for luck. All the young folks went out into the forest to +gather the Christmas greens, holly, mistletoe, and long festoons of +ground pine for wreaths. Ah, it was merry work, and the great hall +in my father's house was a brave sight when we had decked it in the +green. And on Christmas day we had our Christmas bough covered with +shining candles and bright gifts for each other. + +PRUDENCE. How beautiful, Mother! + +MOTHER. And we were awakened at dawning by the poor children +of the village singing their joyous carols beneath our windows. + +MYLES. How I wish I could hear them! + +ROGER. The singing in our meeting on the Sabbath isn't very +joyful, is it, Myles? + +MYLES. Beshrew me if 'tis. This is the way the elders and deacons +stand and sing. [MYLES _and_ ROGER _stand side by side, eyes closed +and hands folded before them, droning an old psalm tune._][23] + +[Footnote 23: As the boys would hardly have been permitted to finish +their song, the mother may leave the room before they begin, coming +back to reprove them sharply when it is over.] + +Tune: "Windsor." + + My days consume away like Smoak + Mine anguish is so great. + My bones are not unlike a hearth + Parched and dry with heat. + + Such is my grief I little else + Can do but sigh and groan. + So wasted is my flesh I'm left + Nothing but skin and bone. + + Like th' Owl and Pelican that dwell + In desarts out of sight + I sadly do bemoan myself + In solitude delight. + + The Ashes I rowl in when I eat + Are tasted with my bread + And with my drink are mixed the tears + I plentifully shed. + +MOTHER [_rising_]. Roger and Myles, silence! I will not have +this wicked mocking of our good elders. Haven't you heard the parson +tell the story of how the bears ate the children who mocked Elisha? + +ROGER. Forgive us, Mother, we meant no disrespect. + +MYLES. But, verily, the sound of the singing maketh me +almost as sad as the sight of the bears could. + +NATHAN. But, Mother, why do the good fathers never allow us +to have a Christmas? + +ROGER. There can be no wrong in the things thou'st told us. +Peace and good will and neighborliness. + +MOTHER. But that was not all, Roger. With the feasting and +merriment came much that the good Puritan Fathers did well to abolish. + +PRUDENCE [_stands at_ MOTHER'S _knee_]. But, +Mother, isn't a birthday always a happy day? [MOTHER _nods +and smiles._] Then I should think the Lord Christ's birthday would be +the very happiest day of all, and the good parson would like to have +us sing and be joyful and glad. + +MOTHER [_kisses her_]. Thou'rt too little to understand it +yet, my Prudence. [_Rises._] Come, we have sat too long with our +talking. If our candles are not soon out, the tithing-man will be +tapping at our door and reproving us. [_Leads the two little girls +and_ NATHAN _to door (L.)_]. Come, children. Myles, see that +the fire is safe. Roger, is the door fast? [MYLES _and_ +ROGER _attend to the fire and the door._] + +INDIAN. Must Eaglefeather go now? + +MOTHER. Does thee think, lad, that savage though thou art, +I would drive thee out into the bitter night? No, there is too much +Yule-tide in our hearts for that! I have no bed for thee, but lay +thee down by the fire and welcome. [_Begins to wind the clock._] +Boys, bring in some straw for a bed---- Stay a moment. Straw will not +do. A chance spark from the fire might light it, and burn the house +above our heads. There is an old mat in the shed without. See if you +can find it. + + [_Exeunt all three boys_; MOTHER _takes down + candles from mantel and slowly extinguishes + one; holds the other in her hand, absently + snuffing it. Stands facing audience._ + +MOTHER [_musingly_]. I told little Prudence she was too young to +understand, yet with my years, am I quite sure that I understand it +myself? No, the good Fathers can never crush and kill the loving +Christmas spirit. [_Enter boys, quietly arranging mat, on which_ +INDIAN _stretches himself._ ROGER _goes to fasten door._] Why should +little children _not_ be joyous and glad on the holy day? Why should +not I _help_ them to celebrate it? [_Hesitates, then firmly and +decidedly._] I believe--I _will_ do it! Boys, come here. [_Boys come +to her side._ REUBEN TURNER _and_ GERSHOM PORTER _pass window, glance +in curiously, then bend close, listening to all that is said._] +Roger, what would thee and Myles say to a Christmas bough of our very +own? + +MYLES. Oh, Mother! + +ROGER. Does thee mean truly, Mother? + +MOTHER. Of a truth I do mean it, Roger. + +ROGER. But, Mother, they will persecute thee---- + +MYLES. And drive us all into the wilderness---- + +ROGER. And with Father away on his ship, who could take care +of thee? + +MOTHER. I have come into one wilderness before, Myles. I am +not afraid. + +ROGER. But how can we do it, Mother? + +MOTHER. I will go up to Boston town to-morrow--I can easily +walk there and back again before 'tis dusk--and buy what little +things I may for gifts. I hear that a ship has but now come into port. + +MYLES. Doesn't thee wish it was Father's vessel, Roger? + +ROGER. _Then_ wouldn't we have a Christmas! + +MOTHER. 'Twill be many a weary month before Father's ship +returns, I fear. But whatever this bark may be, she hath surely +brought some small trinkets that will do for us. I'll find them and +bring them home with me. Then on the day before Christmas thou and +Myles must go into the woods and cut a small evergreen, as perfect a +one as you can find. At dark on Christmas Eve you can bring it home, +and when the children are in bed we will dress it. Then, early on +Christmas dawn, before the neighbors are stirring, we will light it +and wake the little ones. + +ROGER. But, Mother, they will surely find us out! + +MYLES. That Reuben Turner is always spying upon us. And so +is Gershom Porter. [_Boys at window dodge below the sill._] + +ROGER. And, Mother, they think thou art only half a Puritan +now, because thou canst sometimes smile and art not always stern and +sour like the rest. + +MYLES. And they say thou art vain and frivolous because thou +keep'st brazen fire-dogs and candlesticks instead of iron ones. + +ROGER. And dost not dress thy daughters in solemn black. + +MOTHER [_laughing_]. Do they say so? What a list of sins! +[_Seriously._] With thee and Myles to help me I am not afraid. +We will have our Christmas bough--no, not a bough, but a whole +_tree_--if we needs must light it at midnight and cover the window +with blankets! Now get quickly to bed in the loft. 'Tis shocking late! + + [_All turn to go, boys, R._, MOTHER _to door + (L.)._ + +MYLES [_running after her_]. Mother, Mother! won't thee +teach us some Christmas carols, some _real_ joyful ones--so I can +forget about those bears? + +MOTHER. Yes, yes, Myles. Now go quickly. This shall be the +first Christmas in New England. + + +CURTAIN + + +ACT II + +TIME: _Before dawn of December 25th._ + +SCENE: _Same as before. Stage quite dark except for +firelight. Window covered with a blanket. Lights high on one +side at back to represent moonlight when door is opened. Enter_ +MOTHER _[L.] with a lighted candle. Goes to door [R.]._ + + +MOTHER [_calling_]. Roger! Myles! Make haste. [_Looks at +clock, arranges fire, examines blanket hurriedly._] + +MYLES [_softly_]. We're coming, Mother. [_Enter_ +MYLES _and_ ROGER _(R.)._] + +ROGER. Are the others waked yet, Mother? + +MOTHER. Yes, they are dressing. Quickly now, bring in the +tree whilst I see if they need help. [_Exit (L.), leaving candle on +mantel. Boys open outer door._] + +ROGER. How cold it is. See, Myles, the moon hath not yet set. + +MYLES. Yes, yes. Come, Roger. [_Disappear (L.)._] + + [REUBEN TURNER _and_ GERSHOM PORTER + _at door, look cautiously in, then peer + around after the boys._ + +REUBEN [_softly_]. I see naught of any Christmas bough. + +GERSHOM. Yet we surely heard them planning---- How angry the +parson would be. I believe he would even drive them away like the +Quakers. + +REUBEN. My father bade me look and bring him word if what +they said was true. + +GERSHOM. Beshrew me, if they haven't covered the window so +that none may see them. + + [MYLES _and_ ROGER _heard returning with exclamations + "Have a care!" "Gently + now!" etc._ REUBEN _and_ GERSHOM _hide + themselves without. Enter_ ROGER _and_ + MYLES _with the tree already decked and + fastened in a small wooden box, which they + place in center of stage. Their backs + turned_, REUBEN _and_ GERSHOM _appear + again at door, hold up their hands in horror, + whisper together, and make signs of + caution. Watch until_ MOTHER _appears, + then they vanish._ + +MYLES. There: we got it in quite safely, Roger. Dost think +the Christmas boughs in England could have been prettier? + +ROGER [_at door_]. Mother, we're ready now. + + [_Enter_ MOTHER, _taking candle again._ + +MOTHER. Roger, Roger! shut the door at once, careless boy! +Art mad? [ROGER _fastens door._] The children are nearly +ready and grow impatient. Make torches, both of you, and help me to +light the candles. + + [_Boys take splinters of wood from the fireplace + and all go about the tree, lighting + candles, arranging gifts more firmly, etc., + while_ PATIENCE _and_ PRUDENCE, _without, + sing "Waken, Christian Children."_ + +WAKEN, CHRISTIAN CHILDREN[24] + +[Footnote 24: See note on Carols, p. 315.] + +(From "Christmas Carols New and Old," Novello & Company.) + + Waken, Christian children, + Up, and let us sing, + With glad voice, the praises + Of our new-born King. + + Come, nor fear to seek Him, + Children though we be; + Once He said of children, + "Let them come to Me." + + In a manger lowly, + Sleeps the Heavenly Child; + O'er Him fondly bendeth + Mary, Mother mild. + + Haste we then to welcome, + With a joyous lay, + Christ, the King of Glory, + Born for us to-day. + + (There are additional verses, and this hymn is to be found + in various collections. A slightly different version is in + Eleanor Smith's "Songs for Little Children," Part I.) + +NATHAN [_without_]. Can't we come now, Mother? + +MOTHER. One moment, children! + +PATIENCE. It grows light, Mother. I'm afeared. Mustn't we +hasten? + +MOTHER. Presently, presently! Is all ready, Roger? + +MYLES. Yes, every candle. + +MOTHER [_going to door (L.)_]. Come, now! + + [_Enter_ NATHAN, PATIENCE, _and_ PRUDENCE + _(L.), the girls singing first verse of their + song._ + +PATIENCE [_breaking off_]. _Oh_, Mother! + +NATHAN. How beautiful! + +PRUDENCE. Oh, Mother, it feels like a dream! + +MOTHER [_bending over her and leading her near_]. It is no +dream, little daughter. Come near and see. + + [PRUDENCE _timidly touches one branch with + her finger._ + +PRUDENCE [_turning quickly and looking up to her_ +MOTHER]. Oh! it _is_ real! + +MYLES. Of course it is real. A real Christmas Tree. + +ROGER [_folding his arms_]. Now I feel like a real +Englishman! + +NATHAN. Is this like the boughs thee remembers when thee was +a little girl, Mother? + +MOTHER. As much like as I could make it, Nathan. Except that +I like this one even better. + +PATIENCE. Oh, see the pretty presents! Oh, did Eaglefeather +make these lovely baskets for us? + +MYLES. Yes, and that's why he wouldn't let thee see what he +was working on. + +NATHAN. But where _is_ Eaglefeather, Myles? + +ROGER. We can't think where he is. He didn't come back last +night. + +PATIENCE. Oh, I don't want him to miss it! + +MYLES. Hark! [_A bob-white is heard without._] That's his +whistle now. + +MOTHER. Open cautiously, Myles. + + [MYLES _and_ ROGER _open door a little and + close it as soon as the Indian has slipped + through._ PATIENCE _and_ PRUDENCE _run + to draw him to the tree._ + +PATIENCE. See, Eaglefeather! Just see our Christmas Tree! + +PRUDENCE. Isn't it _beautiful_, Eaglefeather? + +INDIAN. Beautiful! Eaglefeather think like many stars! +[_Points to candles, then touches something shining._] Like sun +shining on snow fields. + +MYLES. Now, Mother, can't we sing our carol? + +MOTHER. Yes, Myles, and then it will be more than ever like +Old England. + + [_All sing "Come Ye Lofty." At the end of + second verse a sound of great knocking, + shouting, and calls of "Open! Open! + Mistress Goodspeede."_ PATIENCE _and_ + PRUDENCE _hide behind their_ MOTHER, + NATHAN _stands at her side_, MYLES _and_ + ROGER _seize sticks, and_ EAGLEFEATHER + _draws a small tomahawk._ + +PATIENCE _and_ PRUDENCE. 'Tis Indians! + +ROGER. 'Tis no Indians, 'tis the colonists! + +MYLES. They've found us out! + + [_Noise continues._ + +TURNER _and_ PORTER. Open! open there! + +MISTRESS WELLS. I see the light---- + +DESIRE PORTER. It shines through the cracks here---- + +DOMINIE COBB. Verily none need hope to conceal evil! + +TURNER [_knocking louder_]. Open! open! + +MISTRESS PORTER. Shut in like wolves---- + +GERSHOM. Yea--like wolves in a cage---- + +REUBEN. I told thee the window was covered. + +JARED. Mayhap the house is afire! + +ELDER HOPKINS. Hold, friends! [_Silence without._] Mistress +Goodspeede, in the name of the _Governor_ I command you to open for +us! + +ROGER [_looking to his_ MOTHER]. _Must_ I, Mother? + +MOTHER [_huskily_]. Open for them, Roger. + + [ROGER _opens the door and all but_ GILBERT + APPLETON _press in. Chorus of scandalized + exclamations, "Oh, oh!"_ + +PORTER. What is the meaning of this, woman? + +DOMINIE COBB. Do not attempt to deceive us! + +TURNER. Answer. + +MISTRESS WELLS. She hath not a word to say for herself. + +MISTRESS PORTER. Ah! we always knew she was not one of the +elect! + +REUBEN. And they have even one of the hateful savages with +them! + +GERSHOM. Who would harbor the wretches? + +DESIRE [_pulling her mother's sleeve_]. But, Mother, see how +pretty it all is! + +PRISCILLA. Oh, the beautiful tree! And gifts, too! + +JANE. I would it were my little tree. Doesn't thee wish so, +Desire? + +DOMINIE COBB. Dost see, woman, how swiftly thy ungodly +example doth work to corrupt these wenches? + +MISTRESS PORTER. Silence, Desire! [_She and_ MISTRESS +WELLS _try to hustle the children out of sight of the tree._] + +ELDER HOPKINS. Speak, woman, and tell us the meaning of this. + +PATIENCE [_timidly_]. Please, sir, 'tis--'tis--'tis a +Christmas Tree! + +PORTER. We knew it! + +TURNER. Aye, my son Reuben hath told us. He heard them +speaking of it not a week since. + +PORTER. And Gershom, too--they have kept good watch upon +these evil-doers. + +MYLES [_angrily, to_ REUBEN]. So thou wast +listening at the window. _Sneak!_ + +REUBEN [_blustering_]. And may not the King's subject walk +upon the King's highway, Sir Cocksparrow? + +ROGER [_shaking his fist at boys_]. Methinks 'twill take +the King's soldiers to protect thee when once we catch thee---- + +GERSHOM. We'll show thee, thou blusterer, if we be not as +free as thou! + + [TURNER _and_ PORTER _seize_ REUBEN _and_ + GERSHOM _and draw them back._ + +MOTHER [_sternly, touching_ ROGER'S _shoulder_]. +Peace, Roger and Myles. Is this the Christmas spirit we talked of but +now? + +ELDER HOPKINS [_severely_]. Woman, dost thou forget that we fled +from England for this very cause, that we might escape and save our +children from just such sinful folly as this? How darest thou, with +these baubles and fripperies, bring temptation into our very midst? +I know of no punishment too severe for such evil examples! Not +the ducking-stool, nor the stocks, nor even banishment itself---- +[_Shakes his finger threateningly, at the same time going a step +nearer to her. Enter_ GILBERT APPLETON, _remaining in background._] + +EAGLEFEATHER [_springing before_ MISTRESS DELIGHT +_with lifted tomahawk_]. Stop! stop! No hurt good Squaw. Listen! +Me tell. Me Eaglefeather. Father big chief--Bald Eagle. She good, +kind squaw. Take Eaglefeather in, feed, make warm, make hurt foot +well. Teach Eaglefeather be good Indian. Eaglefeather go home camp. +All braves say "This night go burn village." Eaglefeather find Bald +Eagle. Say, "Not burn village. Good people. Indian's friend. Good +squaw. Kind to Eaglefeather." Bald Eagle listen. Eaglefeather tell +about Tree. Say this Christmas Day. Good Day. Nobody hurt nobody. +Bald Eagle listen. Say tell braves. Not let braves burn village. Now, +now! Not hurt kind squaw! [_Folds his arms proudly._] + +GILBERT APPLETON [_coming forward_]. Every word the lad says +is true, sir! + +ALL. Gilbert Appleton! What does he mean! How does thee know? + +GILBERT. Because I was there. Good friends and neighbors, +you all know that I, Gilbert Appleton, have been much among the +savages. I know their speech, and their ways. Bald Eagle's tribe have +always seemed friendly, but two days ago, when I was hunting with my +match-lock near their camp, they made a prisoner of me and kept me +there until just now. What Eaglefeather here hath told you is true. +They would have burned the village if he had not begged the chief +for the sake of Mistress Delight's great kindness to spare it. Good +neighbors, 'tis my belief that this little Christmas tree hath saved +us all! [_During his story all hang upon his words, drawing close and +shuddering at the thought of a massacre, and sighing with relief at +the end._] + +ALL. Strange! Wonderful! Did'st ever hear the like! + +GILBERT. And, furthermore, the savages, who meant to make me +guide them by the quickest way into our village, were moved to set me +free at midnight and I have but now made my way back to you! + +TURNER. Unheard-of forbearance! + +DOMINIE COBB. Can we credit our ears! + +MISTRESS WELLS. 'Tis like a miracle! + +MISTRESS DELIGHT. 'Tis not so strange, either. We do not, +we cannot know how much power even a very little good will and +friendliness may have. I but thought to make my children happy, and +because I loved my dear home in Old England I told them of customs +there. + +PRUDENCE. Mother, I would like to tell the good Elder +something. + +PATIENCE [_aside_]. He will only say thou art a forward +wench, Prudence. + +PRUDENCE. Will he, Mother? Will he frown and say, "Children +should be seen and not heard"? + +ELDER HOPKINS. Nay, my little maid. I will listen gladly. + + [PRUDENCE _goes to him and puts her hands + in his._ + +PRUDENCE [_earnestly_]. We didn't think it could be wrong, +good Elder. Mother said it was the Lord's birthday, and we couldn't +help being glad about that, could we? And Mother taught us a song +about it. + +ELDER HOPKINS. Then will you sing it for us, little maids? + + [PRUDENCE _and_ PATIENCE, _hand in hand, + sing their carol once more, while_ MYLES + _and_ ROGER _go to_ REUBEN TURNER _and_ + GERSHOM PORTER _and in pantomime apologize + and shake hands with them._ + +MISTRESS PORTER. Good friends, these little maids and their +song do touch my heart. + +TURNER. Truly, when we sought to bring truth and +righteousness to the new land, I fear we were forgetting charity. + +JARED. Was Christmas like this in Old England? + +JANE. My Mother would never tell me of it. + +PRISCILLA. I would it were so here! + +PATIENCE. Mother made the tree for us, but we'd like to give +you all something from it. May we, Mother? + +MOTHER. We will gladly share it if the good Elder will +forgive any harm we may have done. + +ELDER HOPKINS. Mistress Delight, I have been thinking that +perhaps we have grown over hard and stern. + + [_Unhindered now, the children draw close to + the little tree._ + +DEACON PORTER. There was much that was good in the old ways, +after all. + +ELDER HOPKINS. I will take a sprig in memory of the happy +Christmases in Old England. + +MISTRESS WELLS. Perhaps we may e'en keep what was good in +the old ways here in this New England. I'll take a bit of green, too. + +ALL THE OTHERS. And I, too. And I! + +MISTRESS DELIGHT. For the sake of the happy Christmases of +old, and the homes we left, and more than all for the sake of the +very first Christmas Day of all, let us sing one of the dear old +carols we have loved so long. + +ELDER HOPKINS. Willingly, Mistress Delight. + + [_All sing "Come Ye Lofty,"[25] and while singing + come forward and take bits of green + from the Tree, which_ GILBERT APPLETON, + REUBEN TURNER, _and_ ROGER _cut for + them._ + +[Footnote 25: See note on Carols, p. 316.] + + +CURTAIN + + +NOTES ON COSTUME AND STAGING + +Grown people, whose parts are taken by boys and girls from seventeen +to twenty, and children, are dressed alike--men and boys in +knee-trousers, coats with square white collars and cuffs, large belt- +and shoe-buckles, broad-brimmed felt hats, with crowns high and flat. +If the costumes are to be fully carried out, all should wear wigs, +cropped round. Or they may be worn by the Elders only. + +Women and girls wear plain dark-colored dresses, with rather full +skirts, the children's as long as their mothers'. White kerchiefs, +capes, and hoods, of dark colors with bright scarlet or gray-blue +linings. The hoods are large and loose, with the edge turned back, +giving color about the face. Mistress Delight, Patience, and Prudence +wear white caps instead of the hoods. + +Pictures of Puritan costumes are easily found in the Perry or Brown +collections. + +These costumes are best made of canton or outing flannel. Buckles can +be made of cardboard and covered with silver paper, or cut from tin. + +INDIAN. Suit made of tan canton flannel, fringed at edge of +coat, sleeves, and trousers, with a band of fringe up and down arms +and legs. He wears moccasins, beads, and a feather head-dress on +his black wig. He carries bow and arrows, and a wooden tomahawk. A +quiver can be made of a good-sized mailing-tube. He must have Indian +make-up. + +HUNTER'S dress is more like the Indian's than like the +colonist's, but he does not wear his hair long, and his suit should +be trimmed with furs, not fringe. Fur cap with tail hanging down at +back. He carries an old gun, not a bow. + +Mistress Delight's children range from Roger, twelve years old, down +to little Prudence, five. The Indian is a boy of Roger's age. The +hunter, sixteen or seventeen. + +The little Christmas tree should be a very "homemade" one. Strings +of popcorn and cranberries, spools and balls covered with bright +paper, may be used for decorations, Indian baskets, and such toys +as the little Puritans might have made, or any little quaint and +old-fashioned trinkets to carry out this idea. Only white candles +should be used, and these fastened on in the simplest and most +unobtrusive manner. + +The singing of the old psalm should be made as doleful and droning, +even nasal, as possible. It can be sung to the Scotch tune of +"Windsor," which is to be found in most hymn-books. The number of +verses used may be determined by the amusement and applause of the +audience. The boys who sing it must on no account allow themselves to +laugh. + +The charm and picturesqueness of the stage will be greatly enhanced +if quaint old-time household articles can be borrowed or manufactured +for properties--bellows, lantern, candlesticks, andirons, an old +foot-stove--above all, a warming-pan, which the mother fills at the +fire and carries out when she takes the younger children to bed. +The dishes and platter so much admired by Patience should be rather +conspicuously ugly. + +Finally, a word in regard to the old-time English. When the play +was first given it was feared that the children would find it a +stumbling-block, and that it would have to be dropped. Quite the +reverse proved to be the case, however, and the children all gave +their lines with delightful naturalness and evident enjoyment. This +has been equally true of other groups of children by whom the play +has since been given. They show no awkwardness in the use of the old +forms, but seem to feel that it carries them out of the everyday, and +makes danger and adventure real to them. + + + + +THE CHRISTMAS MONKS + +IN THREE ACTS + + +CHARACTERS + + THE ABBOT } + FATHER ANSELMUS } + FATHER GREGORY } + FATHER AMBROSE, the Leech } The Brethren of + FATHER SEBASTIAN } the Convent. + FATHER FELIX } + FATHER HILARION, in charge of the comic toys } + THE PRINCE. + COURTIER. + COURT LADY. + GEOFFREY, 1st Page. + HUMPHREY, 2nd Page. + PETER } + ROSALIA, Peter's Little Sister } + GILBERT, the Carpenter's Apprentice } + ROBIN, the Forester's son } Village children. + WALTER, the Miller's boy } + ANNETTA } + MARIANNA } + MISTRESS SPINNING } + PEGGY SPINNING } Village mother and child. + MISTRESS LONGLANE } + DOLLY LONGLANE } From a distant village. + PETER'S FATHER. + PETER'S MOTHER. + +[Illustration: THE PRINCE] + +[Illustration: PETER AND THE PRINCE] + + +THE CHRISTMAS MONKS + +From a story by Mary E. Wilkins Freeman.[26] + +[Footnote 26: By permission of Mrs. Freeman and of Lothrop, Lee & +Shepard Company.] + + +ACT I + +TIME: _The 10th of April._ + +SCENE: _Country road leading by the Convent. R., an angle of the +Convent Wall. On it a large sign trimmed with evergreens, "Wanted, +by the Christmas Monks, two good boys to assist in garden work. +Applicants will be examined by_ FATHERS ANSELMUS _and_ GREGORY, _on +April 8th, 9th, and 10th." Enter (R.)_ MISTRESS LONGLANE _and_ DOLLY, +_wearily, as if at the end of a long journey._ MISTRESS LONGLANE +_carries a large basket._ DOLLY _hangs back._ + + +MISTRESS LONGLANE [_rather crossly_]. Now, Dolly Longlane, +what with your stopping to gather flowers by the roadside, or to +watch the clouds, or to listen to the birds in the hedges, we'll +never reach our journey's end. Make haste, now! + +DOLLY [_tearfully_]. But, Mother, it's such a long, long +way, and I'm _so_ tired. + +MISTRESS LONGLANE [_relenting_]. So you are, poor lamb. +Well, a few moments can't make a very great difference, so sit ye +down on the basket and take a rest. [_Puts basket down (L.), and +seats_ DOLLY _on it, wipes her own face, straightens her +bonnet, and then looks about her. Sees sign, at which she glances +indifferently, then with interest, at last with amazement. Reads +through, then takes out spectacles and reads again._] + +MISTRESS LONGLANE. Now, what may be the meaning of _this_? + +DOLLY. What is it, Mother? + +MISTRESS LONGLANE [_reads sign to_ DOLLY]. The +Christmas Monks? What manner of men are the Christmas Monks? Here +comes some good dame from the village. I'll make bold to ask. + + [_Enter_ MISTRESS SPINNING, _with little_ + PEGGY _(L.)._ + +MISTRESS LONGLANE [_courtesying_]. Good morrow, Mistress. +Have you a moment to spare for a stranger in the country? + +MISTRESS SPINNING [_courtesying_]. Yes, indeed, Mistress, +and right gladly. Make your manners, Peggy. + + [PEGGY _courtesies first to_ MISTRESS LONGLANE + _and then to_ DOLLY, _who rises from + the basket and courtesies, too._ + +MISTRESS LONGLANE. Why, Mistress, I am minded to ask the +meaning of this strange sign that hangs upon the wall. + +MISTRESS SPINNING. Oh, you must indeed be a stranger in the +land if you have never heard of the Christmas Monks. If you have come +to make your home in our village, you'll soon learn, I'll warrant me, +that this is the home of the Christmas Monks who keep the gardens in +which all the Christmas toys are grown. + +MISTRESS LONGLANE. The Christmas toys! + +DOLLY. Why, I thought Santa Claus brought them all. + +MISTRESS SPINNING. So he does, my dear. He takes them to the +children, of course, but this is the garden where he comes to load +his sleigh. + +MISTRESS LONGLANE. You don't say! + +PEGGY [_shaking her finger_]. You never can see inside, but +that garden is just full of toys. Oh, don't you wish we could peep +in! [_Both children run in search of holes or cracks, stretch their +arms towards the top, and stand on tiptoe, vainly, finally coming +back to listen to the conversation of their mothers._] + +MISTRESS SPINNING. Yes, the Christmas Monks have a wonderful +garden with beds for rocking-horses, beds for dolls, beds for drums, +and picture-books and skates and balls. They do say so, that is; +of course, I've never seen the inside. And the seeds are just the +tiniest bits of dolls and drums and balls, and the rest of it. So +little that you can hardly see them at all. + +MISTRESS LONGLANE. What do the Monks do? + +MISTRESS SPINNING. Why, they plant the seeds, and take care +of the garden, and see that the toys are all ripe and ready for good +old Santa Claus by Christmas time. + +PEGGY. And that's not all, Mother. They have turkey and plum +pudding _every_ day in the year! [_Hugs herself._] + +DOLLY. Oh, my! + +PEGGY. And it says "Merry Christmas" over the gate. + +MISTRESS SPINNING. Yes, and every morning they file into +the chapel and sing a Christmas carol, and every evening they ring a +Christmas chime. + +PEGGY. And they have wax candles in all the windows every +night. + +MISTRESS LONGLANE. Why, it's like Christmas every day in the +year! + +DOLLY. Aren't you glad we've come to live in this village, +Mother? [_Clasps her hands._] + +MISTRESS LONGLANE. That I am, my dear. Why, it's enough to +make one laugh just to hear of it. + +MISTRESS SPINNING. That it is, Mistress. You're quite right. +The Christmas Monks are so full of the Christmas spirit that it lasts +them all the year round, and they just go about putting heart into +them that get sad and discouraged. But I think I see some of the +children coming for the examination. + +MISTRESS LONGLANE. Ah! Yes. That's to take place this +afternoon? + +MISTRESS SPINNING. Yes, this is the last afternoon of it. +The good Fathers have already held two examinations and, will you +believe it? [_Coming closer and speaking very impressively._] They +haven't found two boys who are good enough yet, though they've +examined _hundreds_. + + [_Enter_ ANNETTA _and_ MARIANNA, _talking together._ + +ANNETTA. Oh, Marianna, don't you wonder whom the good +Fathers will choose? + +MARIANNA. Yes, indeed, I do, Annetta. Why, there aren't very +many more boys to examine. + +ANNETTA. No, nearly all the boys in the kingdom have tried. + +MARIANNA. But they're all naughty in some way or other. + +ANNETTA. Oh, don't you wish it was two _girls_ the Fathers +wanted? + +MARIANNA. Oh, don't I! Ssh! Here comes Peter with his little +sister Rosalia. + + [_Enter_ PETER _and_ ROSALIA. + +PETER. Here are some flowers I picked for you, sister. + +ROSALIA. Thank you, Peter. + +PETER. See, sister, that's the sign, and the Monks come +right here to examine the boys. + +ROSALIA. Oh, Peter, I wish they'd take you to work in the +Christmas garden! + +PETER. There isn't much chance of that, I'm afraid. But, +come, sister, I'd better take you home. You might get hurt in the +crowd. [_Exit (L.)_, PETER _bowing politely as he passes the +women._] + +ANNETTA. Marianna, why wouldn't Peter try? + +MARIANNA. He's going to try to-day, I believe. He wouldn't +before because he is so modest. + +ANNETTA. But he's the very best boy in the village, and so +good to his parents and his little lame sister! + + [_Enter_ GILBERT, ROBIN, _and_ WALTER; _all + stand, hands in pockets, before the sign, and + read it in silence._ + +GILBERT. I wish we had been examined yesterday. I hate not +to know about it. + +ROBIN. Well, perhaps we'll have a better chance to-day. + +WALTER. Yes, there aren't so many of us to choose from. + +GILBERT. I suppose the boys that get in there can have all +the tops and balls they want. + +ROBIN. Every day in the year. + +WALTER. Why, all you'd have to do would be to pick them! + +MISTRESS LONGLANE [_looking out L._]. Why, what's this +coming down the road? + +MISTRESS SPINNING. Why, mercy on us, 'tis the Prince. He +must be coming to try the examination. + +CHILDREN [_in hushed voices, crowding to see, peeping over +each other's shoulders_]. The Prince! The Prince! The Prince! + + [_Enter_ COURTIER. + +COURTIER [_with an impatient gesture_]. Ssh--ssh--ssh! Out +of the way there! Make way for his Royal Highness! + + [_Stands aside, bowing. Enter_ PRINCE, _his + cloak held by two pages, followed by the_ + COURT LADY, _by whom the_ COURTIER + _takes his place. Villagers fall back, courtesying + and bowing._ PRINCE _stands with + folded arms and haughty air reading sign + and looking about him. Pause._ + +PRINCE. Well, I see no Monks. Am I to be kept waiting here +all day? + +COURTIER [_bowing low_]. Your Highness, the hour set has not +yet---- + +PRINCE [_interrupting angrily_]. I say I will not be kept +waiting. What will my father the king say when he hears I have been +kept standing in the highway with a rabble of common peasant children? + +COURT LADY. Oh, your Highness, condescend to have a little +patience! + +PRINCE [_more angrily_]. I will _not_ have patience. +Patience is not a virtue for Kings and Princes. [_Taps his foot on +the ground._] + +COURT LADY [_nervously looking up the road_]. Oh, but think +of something else--think of--think what a pleasant day it is! + +PRINCE [_scowling prodigiously_]. Pleasant day, indeed! + +COURTIER. Here they come, your Highness! + +COURT LADY [_full of relief_]. Oh, yes! Here they come. Here +they come! + + [_Enter_ FATHERS ANSELMUS _and_ GREGORY + _(R.), followed by_ SEBASTIAN _and_ FELIX; + _at same time enter_ PETER _(L.). Monks + walk with hands clasped before them. Villagers + all doff caps, bow, and courtesy. + Even the_ PRINCE _is awed into respect. The + Fathers look about smilingly._ + +GREGORY. Well, well, Brother Anselmus, there seems quite a +goodly number awaiting us to-day. + +ANSELM [_rubbing his hands_]. Yes, Brother Gregory. I trust +we shall discover the right boys at last. Let me see. [_Looks about, +aside._] I suppose we should examine his Royal Highness first? + +GREGORY. Truly, my Brother. Let us commit no breach of +etiquette. + +ANSELM. Your Highness! [_Monks bow very slightly._ +PRINCE _and attendants advance a little._] How old are you? + +COURTIER [_haughtily_]. His Royal Highness has just +completed his eleventh year. + +GREGORY. Indeed! And is he a good boy, as boys go? + +COURT LADY. "As boys go," indeed! Why, his Royal Highness is +not to be mentioned in the same day with common boys! + +ANSELM. Oh! Then you are not like other boys? + +COURTIER _and_ COURT LADY [_bowing to_ +PRINCE]. A wonderful child, your worships! + +GREGORY. Then he doesn't often do anything wrong? + +COURTIER. Wrong? Oh, _never_, your worship! + +COURT LADY. He never did a wrong thing in all his sweet +life. [_Clasps hands and casts up her eyes._] + +ANSELM. Is he diligent? What about his lessons? + +COURTIER. He doesn't _need_ to study. + +COURT LADY. A most brilliant intellect! + +GREGORY. Well, well, well, Anselmus, I think we must try +this paragon. [_They put their heads together._] + +GEOFFREY, 1ST PAGE. He just smashes his toys! + +HUMPHREY, 2ND PAGE. And he beats his dogs! + +COURTIER _and_ COURT LADY. Horrors! [_They turn and +each boxes the ear of the nearest page._] + +GEOFFREY. And when he's angry he kicks and screams! + +HUMPHREY. And he won't mind even the King, his father! + + [COURTIER _and_ COURT LADY _each clap a hand + over a Page's mouth._ + +COURTIER [_aside to_ LADY]. Such disrespect! + +COURT LADY [_aside to_ COURTIER]. Such indiscretion! + +ANSELM. Your Royal Highness is accepted. Now, Brother +Gregory, we will continue the examination. First boy! + + [_The_ PRINCE _and his train fall back slightly._ + GILBERT _steps forward._ + +GREGORY. Your name? + +GILBERT. Gilbert, the Carpenter's apprentice. + +ANSELM. Are you a good boy? + +GILBERT [_doubtfully_]. I guess so, sir. + +GREGORY. Do you always speak the truth, Gilbert? + +GILBERT [_stammering_]. W-w-w-well, nearly always. + +ANSELM. Tut-tut-tut! That won't do at all. _Always_ speak +the truth, my boy. I am afraid we can't take you. Next. + + [GILBERT _steps back, hanging his head._ ROBIN + _comes forward._ + +GREGORY. Name? + +ROBIN [_in a small, frightened voice_]. Robin, the +Forester's son. + +ANSELM. Don't be afraid, Robin. So you are the Forester's +son. Ah-h! Hum, hum-m-m! Are you kind to animals, Robin? + +ROBIN. Oh, yes, sir. My father teaches me to be good to them +always. + + [GREGORY _bends over and whispers to_ ANSELM. + +ANSELM. Robin, answer me truthfully. Did you ever rob a +bird's nest? + + [ROBIN _hangs his head and works his toes + about._ + +ANSELM. Did you do this? + +ROBIN [_rubbing his eyes_]. Yes, Father, I did. + +GREGORY. Too bad, too bad. Now I _am_ sorry to hear this. + +ANSELM. So am I, Gregory, but you see it won't do! + + [ROBIN _goes to stand by_ GILBERT, _still rubbing + his eyes._ + +GREGORY. Next boy. [WALTER _steps forward._] Name? + +WALTER. I am Walter, the Miller's boy, and I help my father +in the mill. + +ANSELM. That is right, Walter; we approve of that. + +GREGORY. You are diligent in the mill. How about lessons? + +WALTER. Well--I go to school---- + +ANSELM. Are you at the head of your class? + +WALTER. N-n-n-no, sir. + +ANSELM. Second, then? + +WALTER. N-n-no, sir. + +GREGORY. Well, well, where are you, then? At the foot? + +WALTER. Y-y-yes, sir. + +ANSELM. Tut-tut! [_Shakes his head._] What a pity! Are there +any more boys, Gregory? + + [WALTER _crooks his elbow over his eyes and + stands by_ ROBIN. + +GREGORY. One boy, Brother Anselmus. + +ANSELM. Ah! yes. I have seen this boy before, I think. Isn't +this boy named Peter? + +PETER. Yes, sir. + +MISTRESS SPINNING [_coming suddenly forward and +courtesying_]. And a better boy never lived, your reverence, if +you'll excuse me for mentioning it. + +ANSELMUS. Certainly, Dame, certainly. We shall be very glad +to hear what you know about Peter. + +MISTRESS SPINNING. It's just this I know, sir. He's a good, +hard-working, honest boy, sir, and very obedient to his parents. + +PEGGY. He takes good care of his little sister---- + +MARIANNA. And he never teases little girls---- + +ANNETTA. And he's at the head of his class in school---- + +GILBERT. And the teacher likes him---- + +ROBIN. So do all the boys---- + +WALTER. So does everybody in town! + +GREGORY. Well, well, Brother Anselmus, it does seem as if we +had found a good boy at last, doesn't it? + +ANSELM. Yes, Brother Gregory, this is surely the right boy +for us. And now that Peter and the Prince are accepted, let us return +to our Convent and resume our exercises there. Come, boys. + + [_Children all clap loudly. Monks form a procession_, + PETER _falls in behind, and the_ + PRINCE _gives his hand haughtily to be + kissed by his attendants, then struts after. + Exeunt, the Monks chanting._ + + +CURTAIN + + +ACT II + +TIME: _One week before Christmas._ + +SCENE: _Inside the garden. At back, the wall. Against it (R.), the +Doll bed. Left, small trees with toys. Down Center and across Front, +garden paths._ PRINCE _and_ PETER _in Monks' robes and sandals._ +PRINCE _sitting idly on a wheelbarrow._ PETER _working with rake in +the Doll bed. Tools, watering can, etc., scattered about._ + + +PRINCE [_crossly_]. Well, I don't see how you can _stand_ +this place, Peter. I've had more than enough--I'm just sick of it, I +am. + +PETER [_still working_], I'm sorry, your Highness. + +PRINCE. Yes, that's what you always say. I wish you would +stop that everlasting work and come here and tell me why you're +sorry? Why in the world do you keep on working and working? I believe +you like it. Come here, I tell you! + + [PETER _comes forward and leans on rake to + talk with him._ + +PETER. Well, your Highness? + +PRINCE. That's right, Peter. Now you just tell me what you +like about it so awfully much. + +PETER. Why, your Highness, you know I'm a poor boy and I've +always had to work. This is such pretty work--it's just like play. +And I never really had enough to eat until I came here to live. I +tell you it's horrid to be hungry! Then the good Fathers are so kind, +and I love the Christmas carols and the chimes--why, I think it's a +beautiful place, your Highness. Don't you like to watch the toys grow? + +PRINCE. Oh, they grow so slow. I expected to have a +bushelful of new toys every month, and not one have I had yet. And +these stingy old Monks say that I can only have my usual Christmas +share, anyway, and I mayn't pick them myself, either. I never saw +such a stupid place to stay, in all my life. I want to have my velvet +tunic on and go home to the palace and ride on my white pony with the +silver tail, and hear them all tell me how charming I am. [_His words +become nearly a wail, and he rubs his fists in his eyes._] + +PETER [_patting him sympathetically on the shoulder_]. Never +mind, your Highness. It's pretty nearly Christmas now, and in a few +days the toys will be ready to pick. Come along, and I'll help you to +water those tin soldiers over there--you didn't get that done, did +you? + +PRINCE [_jumps up angrily and stamps his foot_]. No, and I +won't do it, either. As for you, Peter, you're _tame_. If you had a +grain of spirit you'd hate it just as much as I do. There! [_Runs +off angrily (L.)._ PETER _looks after him, shakes his head, +gathers tools together neatly, takes up watering-can, and exit (R.). +Enter_ PRINCE.] + +PRINCE [_looking after_ PETER]. There he goes now +to water those horrid soldiers. I'd like to melt them all down to +lumps of lead--I would! And Peter--he's enough to drive me crazy. I +won't stay here a bit longer, so I won't. I'll get that ladder out of +the tool house and get over the wall and go home. [_Starts off._] But +I'll take some Christmas presents with me, I know! [_Exit (L.). Enter +(R.)_ SEBASTIAN, FELIX, ANSELM, _and_ GREGORY.] + +ANSELM. Well, Brethren, we have every cause to rejoice in +the fine flourishing condition of our garden. Peter has kept the beds +wonderfully clear of weeds. + +GREGORY. Yes, and I think I may say that our garden has +never been so fine as this year. It was a happy day for us when we +found Peter. + +FELIX. Indeed it was. How neatly he keeps the garden paths +raked. + +ANSELM. And what a good disposition the child has! + +FELIX. Always ready and willing---- + +SEBASTIAN [_who has stood at one side with folded arms and +dejected countenance_]. Peter. Peter. Peter. But what of the Prince? + +ANSELM. Alas, yes. You are right, Brother Sebastian. What of +the Prince? + +GREGORY. Oh, I'm not utterly hopeless of the Prince, my +Brethren. + +SEBASTIAN. Brother Gregory is always over-hopeful. + +FELIX. It is my solemn opinion, Brethren, that the Prince is +the very worst boy in the Kingdom. + +ANSELM. Oh, no, Brother Felix! + +SEBASTIAN. I say he is! Think of the first day, when we +gave him Noah's ark seed to sow, and he went into a passion because +it wasn't gold-watch seed! [_The Monks nod regretfully._] We set him +a penance to kneel on dried pease in the chapel all afternoon. And +hasn't it been so every other day in the year since? + +ANSELM [_soothingly_]. Yes, Brother Sebastian, I fear it +has. [_Cheerfully._] But, then, you know, this has come hardest on +you--hasn't it, my Brethren? For, you see, the Prince exhausted our +list of penances so soon and you have had to remain in solitary +confinement in your cell in order that you might invent new penances +for him. Hasn't it been too hard for poor Brother Sebastian, +Brethren? + +GREGORY. Yes, yes, poor fellow, he looks quite thin and worn. + +FELIX. And to think how we were deceived in that boy! How +his people praised him! + +SEBASTIAN [_gloomily_]. I fear his Royal relatives are sadly +deceived in him. + +GREGORY. But let us think of pleasanter subjects, for I have +hopes that the softening influences of the Christmas season will do +great things for our misguided young friend. Let us give our minds to +the contemplation of the Doll bed. How lovely the little creatures +are! + +FELIX. And how they will delight the hearts of the little +girls. + +ANSELM. Why, why, why, what is this? Here is a vacant place! + +GREGORY. Oh, yes, Brother, that doll didn't come up. I +noticed the place long ago. + +FELIX. And so did I, but I neglected to speak of it. + +GREGORY [_to_ ANSELM, _who continues to shake his head over the +missing doll_]. Come, come, Brother, let us be glad that such cases +are rare. Now, my Brethren, we will go on with our inspection. [_They +move towards exit, then, looking back, discover_ SEBASTIAN _still in +gloomy revery._ FELIX _goes back, puts an arm across his shoulder, +and guides him gently after the others._] + +GREGORY. Poor fellow! Poor fellow! [_Exeunt slowly (R.). +Enter (L.)_ ROSALIA.] + +ROSALIA [_looking about with delight_]. Oh, the lovely +dollies. [_Examines them._] And there comes Peter! [_Enter_ +PETER _(R.)._ ROSALIA _goes to meet him._] Peter! Peter! + +PETER [_amazed_]. Oh, you darling! How in the world did you +get in here? + +ROSALIA. I just crept in behind one of the Monks. I saw him +going along the street, and I ran after him, and when he opened the +big gates I just crept in. Here I am, Peter! + +PETER [_worried_]. Well, I don't see what I am going to do +with you, now you _are_ here. I can't let you out again, and I don't +know whatever the Monks would say! + +ROSALIA. Oh, I know! I'll stay out here in the garden. I'll +sleep in one of those beautiful dolly-cradles over there, and you can +bring me something to eat. + +PETER. But the Monks come out very often to look over the +garden, and they'll be sure to find you. + +ROSALIA. No, I'll hide. Oh, Peter, see that place where +there isn't any dolly? + +PETER. Yes, that doll didn't come up. + +ROSALIA. I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll just stand here +in her place and nobody can tell the difference. [_Steps into place +among dolls._] + +PETER. Well, I suppose you can do that. [_Looks at her and shakes his +head anxiously._] Of course, I'm glad as glad can be to see you, but +I'm afraid the Monks wouldn't like it. Now I must go and put away my +tools. Be very quiet, sister. [_Exit_ PETER _(L.), coming back to see +if_ ROSALIA _is safe. Waves his hand to her. Exit. A pause in which_ +ROSALIA _looks about her, feels the curls of the doll next her, etc., +etc. Enter_ PRINCE _(L.), carrying small ladder twined with green, +and a huge basket of toys. Goes to wall, places ladder, tries its +firmness, and begins to climb, finding much difficulty with basket._ +ROSALIA _watches furtively with much interest and excitement._] + +PRINCE [_at top of wall_]. Now, if I can just get down +on the other side. [_Works cautiously but ineffectually to get +the basket over. Looks over wall joyfully._] Oh, I see some of my +father's people riding by! I'll get them to help. [_Waves hand +frantically._] My lord! My lord! Hither! [_Voices beyond wall: "The +Prince!" "The Prince!" "His Royal Highness!" "Make haste, your +Highness! have a care!" At which the_ PRINCE _contrives to +fall over the wall, dropping the basket inside._] + +PRINCE [_without_]. Oh, I'm not hurt! Let us get away! +Hasten, my lords, hasten! [_Voices die away in the distance._] + +ROSALIA [_horrified_]. What a naughty boy! [_Enter_ +PETER _(L.)._] Oh, Peter, the Prince has run away. + +PETER [_hurriedly examining ladder, etc._]. Run away? +[_Mounts ladder and looks over wall._] He surely has! There he goes +on the horse with that gentleman! [_Watching, thoughtfully._] I was +afraid he would try that! But this ladder [_getting down_] has always +been kept locked up. Oh, too bad,--most of the toys are broken. +[_Gathers them up and takes ladder._] Keep very still, sister. I must +put these away and tell the Abbot and the other Fathers what has +happened. [_Exit (L.). Enter_ ANSELMUS _(R.), walking up and +down the path, hands behind him in deep thought. Takes turn near_ +ROSALIA, _notices her, starts, bends down to look closer, +puts on spectacles, and gazes with astonishment._] + +ANSELM. Why, what is this! Hoc credam! I thought that wax +doll didn't come up. Can my eyes deceive me? Non verum est! There is +a doll here--and what a doll! On crutches and in poor homely gear! +[_Puts out a hand to touch her._] + +ROSALIA [_starting_]. Oh! [ANSELM _starts so +violently that his wreath falls off in the path._] + +ANSELM [_gasps, trying to recover himself_]. It is a +miracle! The little girl is alive! Parva puella viva est. I must +summon the Abbot and the Brethren at once. We will pick her and +pay her the honors she is entitled to. [_Picks up wreath, settles +it distractedly upon his head, and hurries to path (R.), where he +motions to someone without._] + +ANSELM [_with excitement_]. Hilarion! Brother Hilarion! +Hither! + + [_Enter_ HILARION _in hot haste._ + +HILARION [_panting_]. Did you call, Brother Anselmus? + +ANSELM. Summon the holy Father Abbot at once--say to him that it is a +matter of importance. [_Exit_ HILARION, _running._ ANSELMUS _returns +to look at_ ROSALIA _again, muttering._] A matter of importance--a +matter of importance. + + [_Enter_ ABBOT _and all Monks._ + +ABBOT. At the wax doll bed, did you say, Hilarion? Ah, yes, +there is my son Anselmus. + +ANSELM [_coming forward_]. Most holy Abbot, behold a +miracle. Vide miraculum! Thou wilt remember that there was one wax +doll planted which did not come up. Behold! in its place I have found +this doll on crutches, which is--alive. + +MONKS. Alive! Strange! Wonderful! + +ABBOT. Alive, did you say, Anselmus! Let me see her. +[ABBOT _bends over to see_ ROSALIA. _Monks crowd +around to see._] + +ABBOT [_rising_]. Verum est! It is verily a miracle. + +HILARION. Rather a lame miracle. + +ABBOT [_reprovingly_]. My son, I fear the work in which you +have been engaged, to wit, taking charge of the funny picture-books +and the monkeys and jumping jacks, has rather thrown your mind off +its level of sobriety, and caused in you a tendency to make frivolous +remarks, unbecoming a Monk. + +AMBROSE. I am the leech of the Convent. Let me look at the +miracle, most holy Abbot. + + [_All make way for_ AMBROSE. + +ABBOT. Gladly, my son Ambrose. + +AMBROSE [_examining_ ROSALIA'S _ankle_]. I think I +can cure this with my herbs and simples, if your reverence wills that +I should try. + +ABBOT [_doubtfully_]. But I don't know. I never heard of +curing a miracle. + +AMBROSE. If it is not lawful, my humble power will not +suffice to cure it. + +ABBOT. True. We will take her, then, and thou shalt exercise +thy healing art upon her. [_Takes_ ROSALIA _up in his arms, +and leads the way, a Monk picking up the crutches._] We will go on +with our Christmas devotions, for which we should now feel all the +more zeal. + + [_Exit Monks (R.), singing. Enter_ PETER, + _darting to place where_ ROSALIA _stood, then + to look after the Monks, hands clasped in + anxiety._ + + +CURTAIN + + +ACT III + +TIME: _Christmas morning._ + +SCENE: _The Convent chapel, decorated with Christmas greens, +candles, etc. A picture of the Madonna and Child wreathed in green. +On a daïs (back Center), in the_ ABBOT'S _chair, dressed in +white with a wreath on her head, is seated little_ ROSALIA. +_She sings a simple little Christmas hymn. Enter_ PETER, +_with an air of secrecy, sitting down at_ ROSALIA'S _feet._ + + +PETER. Oh, sister, I feel so miserable! + +ROSALIA. Why, Peter? I think it is just beautiful! + +PETER. Oh, yes, of course it is beautiful, and that's the +very worst part of it. I mean, you know, that just because it is +so beautiful, and the good Fathers are so very dreadfully kind, +that I feel worse than ever. Oh, dear! I'm not saying what I mean a +bit, sister, but, you see, I hate not to tell the Fathers the truth +about you, and on Christmas day, too. You know they think that you +are a live doll, and a miracle, and you're no such thing. You're +just Peter's little sister, aren't you, pet? And they have been so +kind, and Father Ambrose has made your poor little ankle so nice and +well---- So it makes me feel horrid to think we're deceiving them. +Why, it's 'most as bad as telling a story. + +ROSALIA [_patting_ PETER'S _shoulder_]. Poor Peter, +I'm so sorry! + +PETER. What shall we do about it, sister? + +ROSALIA. Why, Peter, I'll tell them. They're all so kind, I +don't think they will be cross. + +PETER. Well, sister, I don't believe they will, either. +And it's Christmas day, so I want to be sure to do what is right. +And this is right--I am sure of that. Now I must run away; they'll +be coming soon. [_Exit_ PETER. _Sound of Monks singing in +the distance grows louder and louder. Enter Monks_, ABBOT +_leading, each bearing a tray full of toys for_ ROSALIA. +_Half the Monks march to the right, half to the left of her chair. +Monks hold out their presents to her._] + +ROSALIA. Please, I'm not a miracle. I'm only Peter's little +sister! + +FELIX, AMBROSE, _and_ SEBASTIAN. Peter! + +ANSELM, HILARION, _and_ GREGORY. Peter's +little sister! + +ABBOT. Peter? The Peter who works in our garden? + + [_Enter_ PETER, _standing unnoticed by door._ + +ROSALIA. Yes, Peter's little sister. + + [_Monks turn, each looking in the eyes of the + one nearest._ + +GREGORY. Surely, here's an opportunity for a whole convent +full of Monks to look foolish. + +ANSELM. Filing up in procession---- + +AMBROSE. With our hands full of gifts---- + +SEBASTIAN. To offer them to a miracle---- + +FELIX. And then to find out that this miracle---- + +HILARION. This famous miracle is nothing but Peter's little +sister! [HILARION _doubles up with laughter, but controls +himself as the_ ABBOT _lifts his hand for order._] + +ABBOT. My children, harken to me. Haven't I always +maintained that there are two ways of looking at anything? If an +object is not what we wish it to be in one light, let us see if there +is not some other light under which it will surely meet our views. +This dear little girl is a little girl and not a doll, that is true. +She did not come up in the place of the wax doll, and she is not a +miracle in that light. But look at her in another light, and surely +she is a miracle--do you not see? Look at her, the darling little +girl, isn't the very meaning and sweetness of all Christmas in her +loving, trusting, innocent little face? + +MONKS. Yes, yes, she is a miracle, a miracle, indeed! + + [_Monks come forward and lay the toys at + her feet._ PETER _fairly hugs himself with + joy._ + +ABBOT. And, Peter? Where is Peter? + +PETER [_coming forward_]. Here I am, sir. + +ABBOT. Peter, we feel so happy this beautiful Christmas +Day, that we must find some expression for our joy--we must surely +find a way to share such happiness with others. Run, my son, open +the Convent gates, and bid all the village people who wait there +for our usual gifts to enter and take part in our pleasure. [_Exit_ +PETER _in haste._] Think, my children, what a gift we have +here for the poor parents of Peter and little Rosalia--this dear +little girl will be restored to them, not lame, as she was when she +wandered here, but well and strong and happy like other little ones. +Think of it, my children. + + [_Enter_ PETER, _leading his father and mother, + who hasten to_ ROSALIA, _kneeling one on + each side of her great chair. The rest of + the villagers of Act I press in, and stand + grouped at each side of the stage._ + +ABBOT. Welcome, welcome, my good people! A Merry Christmas +to you all! + +VILLAGERS. Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas! + + [_Amid the tumult enter the two_ PAGES. _They + advance to the_ ABBOT, _and bowing, present + a letter with large seals._ + +ABBOT. How, now! What's this? [_Breaking seal and reading +letter, the Monks showing deep interest._] My children, we have here +a message from His Majesty, the King. He tells us that his son, the +Prince, reached his palace in safety, and that he has come to feel +great regret for all the trouble and anxiety he caused the Christmas +Monks. He hopes that the Prince's repentance, though late, will help +to season our Christmas and make it a happy one. And his Majesty adds +that he finds great improvement in his son. Well! Well! this does +indeed add yet another happiness to our day. [_To the people._] And +I know you all, little and big, are just as happy as we are, for at +last the gates are open to the Convent of the Christmas Monks. + + [_All sing a Christmas carol._ + + +CURTAIN + + +NOTES ON COSTUME AND PRESENTATION + +(Mrs. Freeman's story of the same name, from which this little play +was taken, has delightful illustrations which would be of help in +making the monks' costumes. It appeared first in _Wide Awake_, Volume +16, and was later published in a collection of Mrs. Freeman's short +stories, entitled "The Pot of Gold.") + +THE ABBOT (taken by an adult), and + +THE BRETHREN of the Convent (boys, sixteen to eighteen) +wear long hooded robes made of white canton flannel. Greek patterns +in green are stenciled at hem of skirt and around the wide sleeves. +A rope of ground pine, or other Christmas wreathing, is worn for +a girdle, ends hanging, and the tonsures are made by wearing +close-fitting skull-caps of flesh-colored silk or sateen, with a +wreath of green at the edge. + +When PETER and the PRINCE come to the Garden their +dress is the same, but their Greek borders should be smaller and +they wear no tonsures. They are boys of ten. Hoods of all are worn +hanging, except that of Brother SEBASTIAN, who in the 2nd +Act goes gloomily hooded. All wear sandals and white stockings. + +As the story suggests neither country nor period, there may be a good +deal of latitude in the matter of costumes for the rest of the cast, +but the court party in the first act should be as resplendent as +possible. + +THE PRINCE. Plumed hat, short trousers, slippers with bows, +coat with broad lace collar and cuffs. Very long cloak, borne behind +him by the + +PAGES. Dressed alike in a style somewhat resembling the +Prince. + +COURTIER. The same, with the addition of a short cape, and a +sword. + +COURT LADY. Dress made with a train and a high beaded +collar. The boy and girl playing these parts are also Peter's Father +and Mother in the last act. + +MISTRESS LONGLANE and MISTRESS SPINNING, and the +little Village girls wear large poke bonnets, old-fashioned shawls or +white kerchiefs, and mitts. + +PETER. Neat, but old and faded blouse and knickerbockers. +Cap. + +LITTLE ROSALIA. Quaint smocked dress, of soft blue, a +Persian border at hem, square neck, and short sleeves. (Or, white, +with blue borders.) Small cap, trimmed in the same way. She is lame +and walks with crutches. + +PETER'S FATHER and MOTHER. Poorly and roughly +dressed. + +GILBERT, the Carpenter's Apprentice. Blue denim apron. +Carries T-square. + +ROBIN, the Forester's Son. Sleeveless green coat, over a +white shirt with full sleeves; full trousers; broad felt hat, turned +up on one side with a quill. + +WALTER, the Miller's Son. White apron. Dusty felt hat. + +(If preferred, instead of using the above suggestions for costumes, +the Randolph Caldecott pictures, or Kate Greenaway illustrations of +"Mother Goose," may be adopted as a scheme for dressing all but the +Monks.) + +The entrance and exit of the Monks is always heralded by their +singing. Their song may be one of the well-known Christmas carols +containing a few Latin words, but a Latin chant is most effective, +such as can be found in the little Sunday-school hymnals of the Roman +Catholic Church. Suggestions for ROSALIA'S song and the +carol at the end of the play will be found on p. 315. + +SETTING + +For the Garden wall, a frame must be made sufficiently strong to bear +the weight of the Prince, and may need special bracing at the central +point where he climbs over. He uses a small ladder, preferably a +red-painted one, like those in children's ladder-wagon sets. The +framework of the wall may be covered with paper, but unbleached +muslin is much more substantial and lasting. On this is painted the +wall, representing either brick or stone, with a stone coping, all +quaintly stained and moss-grown. It is five or six feet in height. + +The beds where the toys grow are outlined in green. Dolls as large +as possible should be used in the back row, in order to prevent the +contrast with little Rosalia from being too great. Smaller dolls may +be used in the front rows. The number depends on the size of the +stage and the possibilities for borrowing. They may be made to stand +with wooden braces, but it will be found convenient if milliners' +stands for displaying hats can be obtained, as they are light and can +be easily set in place. For the other bed, two or three small bare +bushes, on the branches of which can be fastened such toys as whips, +tin trumpets, etc. Small wheelbarrow, watering-pot, and other garden +tools scattered about. + +For the last scene, the walls should be plain and dark in color. The +Abbot's chair is large and ecclesiastical, and Rosalia looks, in it, +like the doll for which the Monks mistook her. Two great candles, in +tall candlesticks, on the daïs beside her, are effective. No other +furniture. + + + + +THE SPELL OF CHRISTMAS + +A CHRISTMAS PLAY, IN TWO SCENES + + +CHARACTERS + + SIR GILBERT UNDERHILL. + LADY KATHERINE UNDERHILL. + RUFUS } + RAFE } + CICELY } Their Children. + ALLISON } + PHYLLIS, their orphan niece. + GILLIAN } + DICCON } Servants. + STEPHEN } + ANDREW } Roundhead soldiers. + WAT } + SIR PHILIP } + LADY GERALDINE } Ancestors of the House of Underhill. + WAITS, who sing without. + + TIME: In the reign of Charles the First. + SCENE: The old manor-house of the Underhills. + +[Illustration: ALLISON + +"Of a truth, I did hear their voices"] + + +THE SPELL OF CHRISTMAS + + +SCENE I + +_A chamber or corridor in the Manor House. Door [L.]. Hangings on +wall._ GILLIAN _seated [R.], with the three children about +her, all working at wreaths and garlands, and singing an old carol. +Curtain rises on second verse. While they sing_, DICCON +_enters. Takes up sword or other piece of armor from table [L.] and +begins to polish it._ + +CICELY [_with a deep sigh_]. Good Gillian, methinks that +though we sang our carols o'er and o'er we could not make it seem +like Christmas-tide. Brother Rufus is gone away, and we may not even +say we miss him. I would I knew---- [_Chin on hand._] + +GILLIAN. You would you knew what, little mistress mine? + +CICELY. I would I knew what is wrong with us. Christmas was +ever such a merry season in this dear house. + +RAFE [_wisely_]. 'Tis because my father goeth about wearing +such a stern face. + +ALLISON. And Mother looketh _so_ sad. + +CICELY [_confidentially_]. And I think cousin Phyllis cries +in her chamber sometimes. + +DICCON [_mutters_]. Meseemeth we should all know right well +what aileth this place. [_Enter_ SIR GILBERT. _Stands in +doorway._] When he that was the very life and soul is missing from +the hearth---- + +GILLIAN. Hist, Diccon [_warning gesture_]. + +DICCON. ----and more than that, under a cloud---- + +GILLIAN. Be silent, I say, Diccon. + +DICCON [_paying no heed_]. 'Tis young Master Rufus this +house needs so sorely, I'm thinking. + +SIR GILBERT [_striding forward angrily_]. Silence, I say. +Have I not given command that my son's name shall not pass the lips +of any of my people? I will be obeyed in mine own house. Diccon, +hence! Thou canst spend thy days in the stables caring for my horses, +an thou'lt not learn to bridle thy tongue. Mayhap the dumb beasts +will teach thee a lesson. + +DICCON [_bowing humbly_]. I crave pardon, Sir Gilbert. I but +thought---- + +SIR G. Enough. [_Turns to table. Exit_ DICCON, +_with an awkward bow._] Gillian, let this be a warning to you as +well. I have laid my commands--I will be obeyed. [_Exit._] + +RAFE. 'Tis very hard to be just children, when anything's +wrong, I think. We may not know what our elders do know, and yet we +must be just as uncomfortable. + +GILLIAN. Tst-tst, my lambs! Let us think of other things. +Shall we measure our garlands? [_Stretches out her green._] + +RAFE [_measuring his against it, while_ CICELY +_and_ ALLISON _stretch theirs together_]. Indeed, 'tis soon +done, good Gillian. We've used up all our greens. + +GILLIAN [_rising_]. I will see if Roger and Noll have +brought more for us. [_Exit._] + +RAFE [_considering his garland_]. Would my garland measure +around the great pasty Dame Joan hath made for to-morrow's feast, +think you, Cicely? + +CICELY [_laughing_]. The venison pasty, Rafe? Mayhap when +Dame Joan hath turned her back, we can try and see. + +ALLISON. I fear mine will but reach around a very little pudding! +[_Enter_ PHYLLIS.] Oh, cousin Phyllis, cousin Phyllis, come see our +garlands! + +PHYLLIS [_coming forward_]. Did my little Allison wreathe +all this long piece? [ALLISON _nods proudly._] That's brave +work, indeed. + +CICELY [_arms around_ PHYLLIS]. Dear cousin +Phyllis, won't you stay and help us--and tell us why everyone is so +sad? + +PHYLLIS [_frightened_]. Nay, dear, I must not, and you must +not be sad--'tis Christmas Eve. + +RAFE. Yes, we know. But _why_ doth my father look so +stern---- + +PHYLLIS. Nay, nay--I may not speak of it. My aunt will be +sore displeased. + + [_Enter_ LADY KATHERINE. + +LADY KATHERINE [_in doorway_]. Phyllis, why art idling here +with the children? To thy tasks, girl! + + [_Exit._ + +PHYLLIS [_turning hastily to follow_]. You see, sweethearts, +I must not tarry. But I wish good speed to your garlands. Farewell. +[_Exit._] + +CICELY. Thou dost see, Rafe. Father will not let us speak of +brother Rufus, and Mother is so cross to poor cousin Phyllis. + +ALLISON [_shocked_]. Nay, Cicely; Mother isn't cross. It's +naughty to say that. + +RAFE. I think I know what it is all about. [_Very +confidentially. Girls draw their chairs close._] I think brother +Rufus ran away to the wars to fight for the King---- + +CICELY. But, Rafe, that can't be what displeaseth Father, +for Father is a soldier, too, and he himself will fight for our lord +the King, if so be the King needeth him. + +ALLISON [_nodding her head with conviction_]. Father is the +most gallantest soldier in all the country. + +RAFE. But I do think that is why Father is so angry with +brother Rufus. + +CICELY. And why is Mother so--so unkind to poor cousin +Phyllis? + +RAFE [_very solemnly_]. Because--because Rufus did say that +when he was come of age and was a man he would _marry_ cousin Phyllis! + +CICELY. Oh! But _I_ think that's very, _very_ nice! Why +doesn't Mother like it, Rafe? They'd never go away to any other house +at all--and then, beside,--Allison and I could be their bride-maidens! + + [_Enter_ GILLIAN _with an armful of greens._ + +GILLIAN [_sitting down among them_]. Here's work for us all, +my pets. We must e'en make our fingers fly an we would finish our +task. + +CICELY [_full of importance_]. Oh, good Gillian, Rafe doth +say---- + +RAFE [_trying to repress her_]. It's no use to ask Gillian, +Cicely. Didst not hear my Father tell her she mustn't talk of it? + +GILLIAN. That's best, Master Rafe. Let Gillian tell you a +tale whilst we work. + +ALLISON. A fairy-tale, Gillian? [_Whispers full of awe._] +Are the _fairies_ about to-night, dear Gillian? + +RAFE. Not on Christmas Eve, Allison. They aren't, are they, +Gillian? Midsummer Eve is the fairies' night. + +CICELY. And fairies have no power on Christmas Eve, and +witches can't charm you, nor cast their spells upon you---- + +RAFE. Because 'tis such a holy, holy night. + +GILLIAN. Oh, but there be wonderful things that do befall on +Christmas Eve, Master Rafe. My old grandam used to say that when the +midnight bells ring, the cattle in the stables do kneel down to hail +the holy day! + +CICELY. Oh, Gillian, _do_ they? + +RAFE. Hast ever seen them, Gillian? Or hath thy grandam? + +ALLISON. All the cows, and the sheep, and the little, little +lambs? + +GILLIAN. Nay, sweetheart, I never saw them, but I was wont +to think, each Christmas Eve, that I would surely creep out to the +stables and keep watch. + +RAFE. And did you? + +GILLIAN. Oh, Master Rafe, in truth 'twas a pretty plan,--but +I was not a very brave little wench,--and it was so cold and dark and +fearsome: when the time was come, I was always fain to put it off +until the next year! + +RAFE [_scornfully_]. Sooth! I would never do that! + +GILLIAN. Nay, that I'll warrant, Master Rafe! But let +me tell thee what else my grandam hath told me. 'Twas about the +portraits in the long gallery in this very house. + + [_Enter_ DICCON, _with armful of wood for fire, + which he piles upon the hearth._ + +CICELY. The portraits---- Oh, yes, Gillian. [_Draws close +to_ GILLIAN.] + +RAFE. I know. Our great-great-grandfather and our +great-great-grandmother. + +CICELY. Bethink thee, Rafe--what are their names? I do +forget. + +RAFE. They are Sir Philip and Lady Geraldine Underhill. And +they lived right here in this very house. + +DICCON [_turning from hearth_]. Yes, Master Rafe, they lived +in this house. He was a passing gallant gentleman, and fought for +the King, and she was as beautiful as he was brave, and as brave as +she was beautiful. And they say that in a great war his enemies came +to search this house for him, but he and my lady hid themselves in a +secret chamber that's long since forgot. But 'tis somewhere in the +house,---- [_looks about as if expecting to find door at once_] if a +body just but knew how to find the door---- + +GILLIAN [_in contempt_]. Nay, nay, Diccon. I'll warrant me +the Master knoweth where that door is. + +DICCON. Mayhap Sir Gilbert doth know. But none else may find +it. Many's the time the lads ha' looked for it--many's the time. +[_Exit._] + + [RAFE _goes about for a moment, lifting hangings, + etc., as if in search for door, but returns + to_ GILLIAN'S _side to hear her answer + to_ CICELY. + +CICELY. But, Gillian, what was it thy grandam told about the +portraits? + +GILLIAN. Oh, verily, my sweet. Thinking about the secret +door I had well-nigh forgot. My grandam said that if all the house +was still and sleeping, just on the stroke of twelve every Christmas +Eve, Sir Philip and my Lady Geraldine do move and breathe, step forth +from their picture frames, clasp hands, and move together in an +ancient dance! + +RAFE. _Do_ they? + +CICELY _and_ ALLISON. Oh-h-h! [_Drawing near to_ +GILLIAN _with a little delighted shiver._] + +LADY K. [_without_]. Gillian, Gillian! Come hither, wench; I +need thee. + +GILLIAN [_rising_]. Anon, my lady! [_To children._] Think +of it, bairns--that fine brave gentleman and that beautiful lady, +stepping across the floors in the moonlight---- [_Exit, hand lifted +as if holding a partner's, taking stately dancing steps._] + +CICELY. Oh, Rafe, think'st that Gillian speaketh true? + +RAFE. Yes, I do believe her. Christmas is such a marvelous fair time, +Cicely, that I do think _any_thing wonderful might happen. + +ALLISON. I would I could _see_ Sir Philip and Lady Geraldine +at their dancing. + +CICELY. Oh, so do I! Rafe, dost think---- [_Hesitates, +afraid to speak her thought._] + +RAFE [_boldly_]. I think--that if my lord and my lady do +dance--we shall see them this very Christmas Eve. + +CICELY. Oh, Rafe, what dost mean us to do? + +RAFE. When the great doors are closed at eleven o'clock--I +always hear Diccon making them fast--I'll sit up in my bed, so that +I can't by mischance fall asleep. Then I will wake thee and Allison, +and we will steal into the long gallery and hide ourselves. + +CICELY. But if Sir Philip and Lady Geraldine see us, mayhap +they'll be displeased and not come forth. + +RAFE. But if we go soon enough they can't see us, because +they don't come alive until twelve o'clock. Until the clock strikes, +they're only pictures, Cicely. + +CICELY. Verily, I did forget. + +RAFE. I mean to make sure the nursery door which giveth on +the back passage is left unlocked and open, or mayhap I might fail to +hear. Come, sister, bring your wreaths. [_Goes toward door._] + +CICELY [_gathering up wreaths_]. Oh, Rafe, 'tis a wonderful +fine plan! + +ALLISON. Thou'lt let me come too, Rafe? + +RAFE. We'll all go. S-sh-sh, now, not a whisper to +anyone. [_Exeunt children in great excitement. Short pause. Enter_ +RUFUS, _secretly (L.), stopping to look about and listen. +Crosses furtively to door (R.) and looks out. Enter_ PHYLLIS +_(L.), and as_ RUFUS _turns back into room, she sees him, +and with a low cry hurries to meet him._] + +PHYLLIS. Oh, Rufus, Rufus--not _you_! + +RUFUS. Yes, 'tis I, fair cousin. I prithee speak softly. I +would not have it known as yet that I am here. + +PHYLLIS. But whence came you, Rufus? We thought you miles +away, with the King's troops---- + +RUFUS. My company made a secret march, across this valley, +and I thought to spend Christmas in mine own dear home. My Captain +gave me leave to come here to-night, and join him to-morrow eve. But +after I set out on my solitary march, a company of Roundhead rebels +sprang up from a copse by the way and gave chase to our men. + +PHYLLIS. How knew you this? + +RUFUS. I had come but a half-hour's walk, up the long hill, +and saw it all quite plainly. + +PHYLLIS [_much troubled_]. But, Rufus, then you are cut off +from the King's men, for there be very many rebels and few loyal +hearts about us, in these parts. + +RUFUS. I know, Phyllis. And, furthermore, though I would +not alarm thee, I must tell thee that I was seen by that treacherous +Farmer Gosling on the road hither, and I fear he may set others like +himself upon my track. + +PHYLLIS. Oh, Rufus, you frighten me so--they will surely +come and take you. + +RUFUS. Aye, they will try, dear cousin. But I've safe harbor +in my father's house, and when darkness comes I can put forth once +more and rejoin our men in the North. + +PHYLLIS. A safe harbor, saidst thou! Thou little knowest---- Hark! +someone comes. Hide thee speedily, Rufus. Here, behind this curtain. +There--do not show thyself until I see thee again. [_Hides_ RUFUS +_behind hanging, and exit (R.). Enter_ SIR GILBERT _and_ LADY +KATHERINE _(L.)._ SIR GILBERT _sits moodily in chair by fire._ LADY +KATHERINE _stands before him._] + +SIR G. [_as they enter_]. I tell thee, I will hear no more +of it. + +LADY K. But, my lord, this day have I heard a rumor that a +band of King's men were near us--here in this nest of rebel enemies! +If there were fighting--if my boy Rufus were in danger, and I might +not succor him, 'twould go nigh to kill me. And so, my lord, I'm come +once more to crave pardon for him. + +SIR G. I tell thee, it will not be granted thee. When the +boy disobeyed me and ran away I disowned him. I vowed he should never +enter these doors again. + +LADY K. My lord, the lad was so eager to serve his King. + +SIR G. [_springs up and paces the floor_]. Did I forbid +him to serve his King? Nay, when the time was come, he should have +gone with me, with horse and arms, in state befitting a gentleman's +son. And so I told him. I told him he was full young yet--the lad is +scarce turned seventeen. Eagerness to serve his King, forsooth! 'Twas +mere idleness. He chose to run away from his tasks and his studies. +Beshrew me! Whether he find the camp life of a common soldier a bed +of roses or no, I care not. He must e'en lie in it. I'll neither +grant him pardon, nor receive him in my house. To consort with common +soldiers and camp ruffians--he hath disgraced my name. + +LADY K. Oh, my poor lad. + +SIR G. Thou and Phyllis need not grieve so foolishly---- + +LADY K. [_stiffens angrily_]. Phyllis! She is the one reason +why I am reconciled to his being away. + +SIR G. [_more gently_]. Come, good wife, be not so hard upon +poor Phyllis. She's a good maid and a fair. What if the lad have +turned her head a bit? I would fain have thee remember the lass is an +orphan and we her only kinsfolk. + +LADY K. [_moving away_]. I care not to talk of Phyllis. +[_Turns back._] Will nothing move you, my lord? + +SIR G. [_hardening_]. I've told you my mind--let's hear no +more of this. [_Exeunt (L.)._ RUFUS _comes from hiding-place +and stands sadly by fire. Enter_ PHYLLIS.] + +RUFUS [_turning toward her_]. Why, Phyllis, I little guessed +my father could be so hard and stern. I knew I had displeased him, +but _this_ passeth belief. + +PHYLLIS. He is very unforgiving. When you called this house +a safe harbor, you little knew. + +RUFUS [_turning as if to go_]. So be it, then. If my father +cannot forgive me,--I'll e'en forth to the tender mercies of mine +enemies. + +PHYLLIS [_alarmed_]. Oh, no, no, Rufus! At least do not venture forth +until the dark hath come! No one must see you here. Come into the +blue guest chamber. 'Tis not a secure hiding-place should the house +be searched, but 'twill serve for the time, and by midnight you may +steal away safely. Do come, Rufus! [_He lets her half lead, half push +him out as she talks. Exeunt (R.). Pause---- Children's laughter +heard. Enter (L.)_ CICELY _with a bunch of raisins._ RAFE _in +pursuit. They run all about the stage._ CICELY _jumps upon a chair +and holds the raisins over_ RAFE'S _head. He tries to jump for them._] + +CICELY [_breaking off raisins and dropping them one at a time into_ +RAFE'S _mouth_]. Oh, Rafe, such rare sport! You'll have no need to +waken _me_. I'll never sleep this night, I know. + +ALLISON [_without, calling_]. Rafe, Rafe! Where art thou? +Oh, Cicely! + +RAFE [_pulling_ CICELY _down and securing +raisins_]. Quick, sister, let's hide us! [RAFE _runs +behind hangings (R.)_, CICELY _behind table (L.). Enter_ +ALLISON _(L.). Stands still and looks about._] + +ALLISON [_softly_]. Of a truth, I did hear their voices.... I +know.... 'Tis sport. 'Tis a game of hide and hunt. I must set me to +find 'em. [_Goes peering about. As she peeps over chair (R.)_, CICELY +_runs out and covers_ ALLISON'S _eyes from behind with her hands._ +RAFE _comes from other side and feeds_ ALLISON _with raisins._ RAFE +_and_ CICELY _begin to sing Christmas carol, and_ ALLISON _throws off +Cicely's hands and joins in song._] + + +CURTAIN + + +SCENE II + +_A gallery in the Manor House. R. front, fireplace[27] with glowing +red fire. Beside it, at right angles, settle. R. back, door. Back +Center, the portraits of_ SIR PHILIP _and_ LADY GERALDINE, _in tall +old frames reaching down nearly to floor, so that only a short +step is necessary when the figures come out. L. back, window, with +snow-covered trees in distance, and moonlight. L. front, door. +Hangings, a few quaint chairs, etc. Center of stage clear. Curtain +shows empty stage._ DICCON _and_ GILLIAN _cross from L. to R., +talking_--GILLIAN _enters first, as if in haste_, DICCON _trying to +stop her. Stage lights very dim._ GILLIAN _carries a candle, which +she shades with her hand._ + +[Footnote 27: See note on Fireplace, p. 313.] + + +DICCON [_calling softly_]. Gillian, Gillian! Hang the wench! +Wilt not wait, good Gillian? I've somewhat of great import to tell +thee. + +GILLIAN [_impatiently_]. Were I to believe thee, Master +Diccon, _all_ thine affairs are of great matter. Mayhap thou thinkest +_my_ business is ever of small consequence? + +DICCON. Nay, then, Gillian--but this news is thine and mine +and my lord's and my lady's too! + + [GILLIAN _turns, a little curious, and waits for + him._ + +GILLIAN [_scornfully_]. A strange matter, methinks, that can +be thine and mine and theirs, too! + +DICCON. But list a moment, and you shall hear. Giles, the +horse-boy, hath been in the village this day, and heard that which +bodes ill to us. Giles heard them talking in the tavern---- + +GILLIAN. Heard whom talking, Diccon? I can make naught of +thy twisting tales! + +DICCON. Why, the Roundhead knaves, be sure. And the pith and +kernel of Giles' tale--an thou'lt not hear the how and the when--is +this! that they mean to come hither this night and search our house. + +GILLIAN [_gives a little scream and claps her hand over her +mouth_]. Oh, Diccon, Diccon,--what can they want here? We be peaceful +folk. In sooth 'tis known we are all good King's men, but no harm +have we done to any! Oh, Diccon! + +DICCON. Sst! silly wench! They'll not harm thee. But hark to +what else Giles heard. They be coming to search for Master Rufus! + +GILLIAN. Master Rufus! But he hath not been here these many +weeks. + +DICCON. Sst! Speak more cautiously, Gillian. The knaves did +say they have certain knowledge that Master Rufus is here in hiding. + +GILLIAN [_looking fearfully and suspiciously about_]. Oh, +Diccon, dost believe it? + +DICCON. In good sooth, how can I tell? But I am in great +fear. + +GILLIAN. Thou afeard, Diccon? Oh, what dost think the +Roundhead villains will do to us? + +DICCON [_angrily_]. A pest upon thee, wench! They'll do +naught to _us_! 'Tis for my young master I am troubled. If they take +him, 'tis doubtless to a rebel prison he'll go, and then--it's rough +fare for such a young lad,--and gentle born and bred to boot. + +GILLIAN [_curiously_]. But can he be here, think you, Diccon? + +DICCON [_anxiously_]. He may be. And I do fear to ask my +lord or my lady of the matter. [_Going towards door._] I would I knew +my duty, Gillian. + + [_Exeunt (R.). After a moment enter (L.) + the three children in nightgowns, the little + girls in caps, also. They do not speak, but + motion to each other excitedly, and run + about, choosing a fit hiding-place._ ALLISON + _takes a small stool and plants it + directly in front of portraits, sits down, + and folds her hands to wait. The others, + consulting by signs, do not at first see her, + then rush upon her in alarm and drag her + away, taking stool with them, and making + reproving gestures. All go to settle, place + stool by fire, and allow_ ALLISON _to sit on + it._ CICELY _kneels at end of settle, partly + concealed by its arm._ RAFE _lies full + length upon it, alternately ducking below + arm and peeping over it. They shake fingers + at each other, touch lips to insure silence, + and when_ ALLISON _turns as if to + speak._ CICELY _claps a quiet hand over her + mouth. Business of settling into place. + When there has been a moment's pause, a + bell is heard in the distance striking midnight. + The portraits slowly turn their + heads, take a long and deep breath, and + begin to move; soft music is heard (minuet, + from Mozart's "Don Giovanni"); + they bend forward, step with one foot from + the frames and clasp hands across the space + between; then step forth entirely, and bow + and courtesy low and slowly to each other. + Then they take hands, and to the music + go through such part of the old French + minuet as is practicable for two alone. + When this has continued as long as is desirable, + there is a sudden noise without. + Instantly the music ceases and the figures + go back with all swiftness and resume + pose in frames. Children also much + startled._ + +CICELY [_in alarmed whisper_]. Oh, Rafe, what was that? + +RAFE. I don't know. Sh-sh-sh! + + [_Enter_ RUFUS _(R.), silently and furtively. + Goes to window and peers out. Comes + back hurriedly and without seeing children. + Exit (R.)._ RAFE _springs up and follows + to door, gazing out after_ RUFUS. + +CICELY [_aloud, but still cautious, though in great +fright_]. Oh, Rafe--I saw a man! Who was that? + +ALLISON. So did I, sister! Let's _run_! + +CICELY. Mother! Mother! I'm frightened! + +ALLISON. Oh, Gillian, come get us! + + [_Both rush screaming out of door (L.)._ RAFE + _comes quickly and silently back. Goes to + window and stands peering out._ + +RAFE. That was brother Rufus. I wonder how he came +hither.... And there is someone ... away out there in the snow ... +men ... coming this way. [_Leaves window and stands directly in front +of portraits, with his back to them, and a little way off. Stares +anxiously straight before him, and speaks low and quietly._] Perhaps +they are soldiers ... or wicked people come to seek for him and take +him away.... Rufus went up the little stairs to the Tower.... There's +no place to hide in the Tower! [_His voice gradually rising._] +They'll find him as soon as they get here.... Oh, _what_ shall I +do--what shall I do? [_Stands with hands clenched, listening and +thinking, wide-eyed. The portraits move and bend toward him._] + +LADY GERALDINE [_leaning forward and smiling tenderly_]. +Little Rafe, little Rafe, thou must play the man this night! + +SIR PHILIP [_leaning forward and speaking earnestly_]. +Little lad, little lad, thou art little and young! Go and fetch thy +father! + +RAFE [_does not turn at all_]. My father will know what +to do.... Mayhap he will even open the secret door Gillian telleth +of.... Surely, surely he cannot be angry now. [_Turns and rushes +wildly out (R.)_]. + + [_Enter_ PHYLLIS _(R.), all shaking and trembling._ + +PHYLLIS [_calls softly_]. Rufus! Rufus! Where art thou? +[_To herself._] Oh, where can the rash boy have gone? He was safe +for the time in the Blue Chamber. And now---- Oh, what can I do! I +must warn him! [_Wrings her hands and goes to window._] Gillian hath +told me they are coming to seek him. He must be warned! Oh, where can +he have gone? [_Goes to door (L.), then to window once more. Enter_ +RAFE, _dragging_ SIR GILBERT _by the hand._] + +RAFE [_breathless_]. You needs must listen, Father! Brother +Rufus came in at this door and went to the window, softly, to peep +out. Then he ran out again and I got me up speedily and ran to the +casement. [_Tries to draw_ SIR GILBERT _to window, but he +resists and stands frowning (R. Center)._] And I looked out, Father, +and there was someone coming--men--away over toward the village. I +saw them. And Rufus is gone up the Tower stairs---- [PHYLLIS +_starts forward to door, but turns back._] + +PHYLLIS. The Tower, saidst thou, Rafe? + +RAFE. Yes! The Tower! And thou knowest, Father, there is no +way of escape from the Tower! Father, tell us what to do! + +PHYLLIS [_coming to his side with clasped hands_]. Oh, good +Uncle, save him while there is yet time! + +RAFE. I know _thou_ canst find a way, Father! + + [_Enter_ LADY KATHERINE, _the two little girls + clinging to her skirts._ + +LADY K. [_in amazement_]. What can be the meaning of all +this coil? The children crying to me in fright some old wives' tale +about the family portraits--someone in the gallery--the soldiers---- +My poor wits cannot fathom it! + +RAFE [_still clinging to his father's hand_]. Oh, lady +Mother, Rufus is hiding in the Tower, and the soldiers are coming, +and Father must save him! + +LADY K. [_cries out_]. Rufus, saidst thou? [_Shakes off the +children and hurries toward_ RAFE.] Where is he, boy? + +RAFE [_seizes her hand and draws her to door (L.)_]. Here, Mother, +here, up in the Tower. [_Exeunt._ CICELY _and_ ALLISON _cling +together._] + +CICELY. Oh, Allison, sweet sister, it was brother Rufus we +did see in the gallery. And the Roundhead soldiers are coming. + +ALLISON. Will they drag him away from here? + +PHYLLIS. Oh, Uncle, dear Uncle, surely thou knowest some +secret place in this old house where he can lie safe until danger be +past? + + [_Enter_ RAFE _and_ LADY KATHERINE _with_ + RUFUS _(R.)._ LADY KATHERINE _hastens + to window, glances out, then goes to quiet + children, who are sobbing._ RAFE _rushes + to his father, and_ RUFUS _at first starts to + him._ + +RAFE. Father, here he is. Now what's to do? + +RUFUS. Father, I would---- + +SIR G. [_interrupting_]. Not a word from you, sirrah! How +dare you enter this house whence you went but to disgrace my name? +You are no son of mine! + + [RUFUS _draws back and stands proudly a little + aloof. The rest cry out in protest._ + +LADY K. Oh, my lord, you cannot mean the words you speak! + +PHYLLIS. Uncle! + +RAFE. Oh, Father, poor Rufus! + +DICCON [_without_]. Sir Gilbert! Sir Gilbert! Where art +thou, master! + +GILLIAN [_without_]. Oh, mistress! Oh, my lady! + + [_Enter_ DICCON _and_ GILLIAN _in greatest excitement._ + DICCON _carries a pair of candles, + which he places hastily on the chimney-piece. + Raise lights._ + +DICCON. My lord, the soldiers are coming! [_Rushes to +window._] They be at our very gates! + +GILLIAN. Oh, mistress, the murthering knaves will burn the +house above our heads! + +LADY K. Hold thy peace, silly wench! + + [_General hubbub. Children cling crying to + their mother._ DICCON _and_ GILLIAN _at + window._ RAFE _now running to window, + now tugging at his father's hand._ PHYLLIS + _at his other side._ + +DICCON. They come down the long hill! + +GILLIAN. I see them, the knaves! + +PHYLLIS. Oh, Uncle, prythee forgive Rufus--save him quickly! + +SIR G. [_angrily_]. He doth not desire forgiveness. + +PHYLLIS. Oh, Uncle, he would have asked it but now. Thy +bitter words did check him, and thou knowest he is proud. He could +not ask it then. + +GILLIAN. Here they be! + +DICCON. At our very gates! + +LADY K. [_above noise_]. My lord, thou dost know some secret +place. Do but disclose it to me. Remember he is thine own flesh and +blood. + +DICCON. Hark, ye can hear them! [_Silence falls. In the +distance the carol of the_ WAITS _is heard._] + +PHYLLIS [_relieved_]. 'Tis the waits at their carols. + +LADY K. [_thankfully_]. 'Tis not the soldiers, after all! + +DICCON [_turning from window_]. Would it were not, my lady! +Ye do hear the waits singing beneath the hall windows, 'tis true, but +these at our gates be no peaceful carollers. [_Turns back to window. +All are silent for a moment, listening, until the refrain of "Peace +on earth" is reached._] + +SIR G. [_startled_]. "Peace on earth, good will to men!" Now Heaven +forgive my angry spirit! Here, Rufus--quick, lad! [_Touches spring +at R. of portrait. Panel opens, and_ SIR GILBERT _thrusts_ RUFUS +_through, and it closes behind him._ SIR GILBERT _turns and takes +command._] Clear the room--this throng will never do--guilt and +suspicion sit upon our very faces. Wife, Phyllis! take these children +to bed. Gillian! to the kitchen, wench, and do all in thy power to +quiet the maidens there. Hasten to the gate, Diccon, and say that +your master throws open his doors to their search. Bear yourselves, +all, as if nothing had befallen! Now, haste! + + [_Rapid clearing of the room._ LADY KATHERINE + _and_ PHYLLIS _hurry the children + out (L.), trying to quiet them. Exeunt_ + DICCON _and_ GILLIAN _by the door (R.). + Unnoticed_, RAFE _springs into box of settle, + and closes lid over him. When all are + gone_, SIR GILBERT _goes quietly about room + to put all in order. Looks out at window. + Sounds from without, of beating on doors, + etc. Cries, "Down with the false King!" + "Death to traitors!" etc._ SIR GILBERT + _goes to panel for a moment._ + +SIR G. [_tapping_]. Rufus! Rufus! + +RUFUS [_within_]. Yes, Father! + +SIR G. Cheerly, good lad! Lie thou quiet, no harm shall +come to thee. [SIR GILBERT _goes to chimney, takes an old +book from shelf, and sits on settle. Noises of search gradually come +nearer. Enter_ DICCON, _followed by soldiers._] + +DICCON [_torn between his fear and hatred of the soldiers +and his wish to propitiate them_]. Here is my lord, your masterships! +He bade me give you free welcome [_bows politely, but as they pass +him he snarls aside_], and a pest upon all of ye! + +SIR G. What would you of me, my men? Why, Diccon, these be +all old neighbors--not soldiers. + + [_The men are disconcerted, and advance awkwardly, + pulling at their forelocks._ + +STEPHEN. Yes--Sir Gilbert--no, Sir Gilbert--we be verily +soldiers--soldiers of the Parliament. + +SIR G. You have taken up arms against your King? I had +thought to see old neighbors and friends and loyal men. [_Rises, +laying down book._] + +STEPHEN. We do be loyal men---- + +ANDREW. Loyal to the Parliament. + +WAT. And soldiers of Cromwell. + +SIR G. What, then, would you of me? Ye do know I am a +subject of King Charles. + +STEPHEN. My lord, we have orders to search this house. + +SIR G. So be it, then. Obey your orders. What do ye look to +find here? + +ANDREW. 'Tis a false traitor Cavalier. + +WAT. He lurketh here and we mean to have him, too. + +STEPHEN. We would do our work peaceably, my lord. But our +general must have the country cleared of all Malignants. + +SIR G. You have my free consent. My house is open to you +from turret's peak to the bins in the cellar. + +DICCON. There be more of 'em, my lord--a round dozen. And +they waited not thy permission. They be already both on tower and in +bins. + +SIR G. Disturb them not, good Diccon. [_Turns back to +settle, takes up book and pretends to read, but keeps a careful eye +on soldiers._] + +STEPHEN. Do your work with thoroughness, men. + +ANDREW. That will we, captain! + +WAT. There be many lurking--places in these old rats' nests. + +ANDREW. We'll ferret him out! + +WAT. Aye, aye--the false villain. + + [_They go carefully about room, lifting hangings, + tapping walls and floor, trying to see + behind picture-frames, coming very near + secret door._ + +STEPHEN. Have ye tested the walls? + +WAT. Aye, and the floors. + +ANDREW. There be no secrets here. + +STEPHEN. Then we'll look further. Give ye good even, Sir +Gilbert. + +ANDREW. Mayhap we'll meet again---- + +WAT. Aye,--on the field of battle! + + [_Exeunt soldiers, with angry gestures._ SIR + GILBERT _rises and bows slightly, signing to_ + DICCON _to follow._ SIR GILBERT _waits an + instant, follows to door, then goes to window + and watches._ RAFE _jumps out of box, + and stands beside settle. Enter_ LADY + KATHERINE, _followed by_ PHYLLIS _and_ + GILLIAN, _stealing in to peep out at window. + Enter_ CICELY _and_ ALLISON, _catching + at_ GILLIAN'S _skirts._ + +ALLISON [_piteously_]. Gillian! Gillian! + +CICELY. Oh, Gillian, don't leave us alone! + +GILLIAN [_turns back_]. Never! my lambs. Have never a fear of that. +[_Sits in chair (L.), gathers_ ALLISON _into her lap, drawing_ +CICELY _beside her._ GILLIAN _still looks anxiously towards window._] + +PHYLLIS. There they go, those wicked men! + +LADY K. Now Heaven be praised! [RAFE _runs to stand +at panel. Enter_ DICCON.] + +DICCON. My lord and my lady---- [_All turn._ SIR +GILBERT _crosses stage to meet_ DICCON.] The knaves +be all gone, sir. I shut the gate upon them with my own two hands. +[_Everyone takes a breath of relief._ RAFE _touches spring +and_ RUFUS _steps out and strides to his father._] + +RUFUS. Father, let your son's first word be to crave pardon +for all his willfulness! + +SIR G. [_clasping his hand warmly and putting an arm across +his shoulder_]. Nay, lad, 'tis freely given. Methinks I should first +ask thine for all my hardness of heart. + + [PHYLLIS _goes to_ LADY KATHERINE, _who + turns and kisses her affectionately. They + stand side by side._ + +PHYLLIS. Our little Rafe has played the man and saved Rufus +for us all. + +LADY K. He is a brave little lad! But tell me, children, +what doth it mean that you were out of your beds at such a strange +hour? + +RAFE. We got up to see our ancestors dance. + +ALL. Ancestors dance! + +SIR G. What meaneth the child? + +RAFE. Why, sir, Gillian's grandam hath said to her, that +when the midnight tolled on Christmas Eve, my lord and my lady here +did step forth, clasp hands, and dance. + +ALLISON. And so we came to see. + +CICELY. And soothly, it was so. They came forth and danced, +here in the shine of the fire. A brave sight, Father! + +SIR G. Now, saints defend us! What is a man to make of this? + +LADY K. Never heed them--'twas just a sleep-heavy fancy. A +beautiful Christmas-tide dream. + +RAFE. Nay, lady Mother, it was no dream. It was the spell of +Christmas brought it all to pass. + +SIR G. Now doth the lad speak truth, good friends! Verily it +_is_ the spell of Christmas which hath saved us all from sin and much +sorrow this night. The spell of "Peace upon earth, good will to men." +Hark, the waits are singing still--as angels sing, and ever shall +sing the world around, on Christmas Eve. + + [_All stand listening for a moment to distant + singing, then join in carol._ + + +CURTAIN + + +NOTES ON COSTUME, MUSIC, AND SETTING + +Adult parts in this play taken by boys and girls of fifteen or +sixteen. In contrast to these, the smaller the children playing Rafe, +Cicely, and Allison, the better--Rafe not over eight, Cicely and +Allison six and five years. + +Costumes follow the Van Dyke pictures of Charles I and those of +his children. Very helpful illustrations may also be found in +"Merrylips," by Beulah Marie Dix. (The Macmillan Company.) + +SIR GILBERT and RUFUS wear sleeveless jerkins made +of tan-colored canton flannel to represent leather. Rufus wears boots +and a broad-brimmed hat with plumes, and long cloak of the same color +as his suit. These suits should be of rich colors in contrast to the +sober colors of the Puritan soldiers, who also wear leather-colored +jerkins and boots. + +Cavaliers wear broad lace collars and cuffs, while the PURITAN +SOLDIERS wear square linen collars and cuffs, and under-sleeves +with stripes running around them of black and orange, the colors of +the Parliament. Orange baldric over right shoulder. If possible, +metal helmets, or firemen's helmets silvered to represent the steel +caps of the time; otherwise, broad-brimmed felt hats with band or +scarf of orange and black. They carry swords, cross-bows, or other +arms. + +LADY KATHERINE and PHYLLIS. Full, quilted +petticoats, broad, deep-pointed lace collars and cuffs. Dressed in +rich colors. Lady Katherine wears a small lace cap upon her hair. + +RAFE. Suit like the picture of Prince Charles. May wear a +broad fringed sash, and fringed bows at his knees. Lace collar and +cuffs. Sleeves may be slashed. + +CICELY and ALLISON. Little short-waisted, quilted +dresses, with flowered panels set in. Lace at the square necks and +the elbow sleeves. + +GILLIAN. Plainly made dress of flowered material. Skirt +full, but not quilted. Short caps to the sleeves. White kerchief, +apron, and plain white cap. + +DICCON. Plain suit, like the Puritans, but less sober in +color, and without the leather jerkin. Square linen collar and cuffs. + +THE PORTRAITS. Costumes of an earlier century. + +SIR PHILIP. Slashed doublet and trunks of rich color, and +long stockings to match. Ruff, and plumed cap or hat of same material +as doublet. Wears a dagger. + +LADY GERALDINE. Dress of rich color to harmonize with Sir +Philip's. Puffed and slashed sleeves, figured panel in front of skirt +and waist, and panniers on hips. Ruff, and small beaded cap. + +To stand in absolute stillness for so long a time is a difficult +matter. Therefore the portraits must be careful to take poses which +they can hold without too great a strain throughout the act. + +MUSIC + +Choose songs which, through their quaintness, may be in keeping with +the atmosphere of the whole. + +For the children: + + "Waken, Christian children,"[28] + +[Footnote 28: Words printed in "A Puritan Christmas," p. 136.] + + "The first Nowell the angel did say," + +or some other simple old carol. + +For the Waits: + + "From far away we come to you." + +These three carols are all to be found in "Christmas Carols New and +Old," Novello & Company. The last has been modernized and set to new +music more suitable for children's voices by Mr. W.W. Gilchrist, +and is to be found in a book containing many good carols for +children ("The First Nowell" among them), "The New Hosanna."[29] Mr. +Gilchrist's version omits the quaint refrains of the original--"The +snow in the street, and the wind on the door," and "Minstrels and +maids stand forth on the floor," and substitutes "Sing 'Glory to God' +again and again," and "Peace upon earth, good will to men." These +last words are necessary to the sense in two places, in the text +of the play. When the play was first given, the Waits used the old +refrains, and Mr. Gilchrist's, for alternate verses, thus gaining in +quaintness of effect and at the same time avoiding monotony. For the +midnight dance, use the Minuet from Mozart's "Don Giovanni."[30] + +[Footnote 29: See p. 315.] + +[Footnote 30: See note, p. 146, in regard to the English, following +"A Puritan Christmas."] + +SETTING + +If the first scene, which requires little furniture,--the table, a +chair for Gillian, and low stools for the children,--can be set in +front of the second, much time will be saved in the changing. One +scene will serve for both acts, if the frames of the portraits can be +covered with hangings during the first act. Mission furniture may +be used, but if it is possible to obtain a carved chair and table, +and appropriate objects to hang upon the wall,--one or two pieces of +armor, a pair of antlers, etc.,--the effect can be much enhanced. + +The secret door in the second act must be planned in accordance with +the possibilities of one's stage. If scenery is used, one section may +be opened wide enough for Rufus to pass through. Otherwise, arrange +hangings so that he may appear to go through a door behind them. + + + + +THE BABUSHKA + +A RUSSIAN LEGEND, IN ONE SCENE + + +CHARACTERS + + THE BABUSHKA. + THE BARON. + PRINCE DIMITRI } + PRINCESS DAGMAR } His children. + KOLINKA } + MARIE } + MATRENA } Children of a peasant family. + SASCHA } + NICOLAS } + PAVLO } + OLD SEMYON } + IVAN, his grandson } The village fiddlers. + MICHAEL, SERGIUS, LEO, BORIS, PETER } + SOPHIA, NADIA, FEODOSIA, MASHA, } Village children. + MALASHKA, KATINKA, PRASKOVIA } + + +THE BABUSHKA + +TIME: _Christmas Eve._ + +SCENE: _Interior of a Russian "isba," or hut. Back R., door; +L., window; through them a dreary winter landscape is visible. In the +corner, by the window, a ledge with ikons and decorations. Right, +Russian oven, with ladder to top. Bench runs under window and along +wall. For other furniture, a few stools and a table, or large chest +used as a table [L.], with a cloth, a loaf of bread, and a knife upon +it. Down stage [R.], a cradle. On the floor, bear skins, or other +furs. At rise of curtain_, MARIE, _seated by the table, +braids a basket_; MATRENA _rocks cradle_; KOLINKA +_sits by window, knitting_; SASCHA _lies on top of the +oven_; NICOLAS _and_ PAVLO _play on the floor. +Children are singing the "Carol of the Birds."_ + +[Music: CAROL OF THE BIRDS] + + BAS. QUERCY. + + Whence comes this rush of wings afar? + Following straight the Noël star? + Birds from the woods in wondrous flight, + Bethlehem seek this Holy Night. + + 2. "Tell us, ye birds, why come ye here, + Into this stable, poor and drear?" + "Hast'ning we seek the new-born King, + And all our sweetest music bring." + + 3. First came the Cock, ere break of day, + Strutting along in plumage gay, + Straight to the humble manger flew, + Chanting aloud _Coquerico_. + + 4. Then, near the Babe a Goldfinch drew, + Chirping with mirth _Tir-li-chiu-chiu_; + _Chiu_ said the Sparrow in reply, + _Pal-pa-bat_ was the Quail's quick cry. + + 5. Blackbirds then raised their sweetest notes; + Warbled the Linnets' tuneful throats! + Pigeons all cooed _Rou-cou-rou-cou_, + Larks sang with joy _Ti-ro-li-rou_. + + 6. Angels, and shepherds, birds of the sky, + Come where the Son of God doth lie; + Christ on the earth with man doth dwell, + Join in the shout, Noël, Noël! + + +KOLINKA. How lonely it is with Father away! + +MARIE. Yes, and isn't it strange to think that all the +houses in the village are just as quiet as ours?--on Christmas Eve, +too. + +SASCHA. I don't believe it ever happened before that the +whole village had to turn out and hunt wolves on Christmas Eve. + +MARIE. And if they hadn't had to do that I suppose Mother +wouldn't have had to spend the day taking care of Petrovitch's sick +wife, either. + +KOLINKA. If the men were at home somebody would be coming +in, or at least passing by. + +MARIE. Oh, I do hope they will kill all those dreadful +wolves so we shan't have to be afraid any more. + +MATRENA. I'm so afraid Father will be hurt! + +SASCHA [_with scorn_]. _Hurt_, Matrena! Of course he won't +be hurt. Hasn't he always hunted wolves, every winter? But that's +the way with you and Kolinka. I tell you _I'm_ not afraid. I only +wish I were older and bigger--then I could have gone, too. It's very +slow to have to stay at home and take care of you girls. [_Yawns and +stretches._] + +MARIE [_turning indignantly_]. Indeed, Sascha, it wouldn't +be slow at all if you would do something beside lie up there on the +stove and sleep. Here's the bowl you began to carve a month ago, not +finished yet. Just come down now, and do it. + +SASCHA. Oh, no! I like this better. And you know you would +rather have me stay up here and tell you the news. [_Teasingly._] + +KOLINKA. News, indeed! What news can _you_ have to tell, I +should like to know? + +SASCHA [_triumphantly_]. Just this. That the great castle up +on the hill has been thrown open once more. + +MARIE [_surprised_]. _Has_ it? Why? + +KOLINKA. I don't believe it. + +SASCHA. It's true, though. Our father the Czar has pardoned +the Baron, and he has come back from Siberia. + +KOLINKA. Are you _sure_, Sascha? Where is the Baroness? + +SASCHA. The men said so at the well this morning, so it must +be true. + +MATRENA. Did the Baron bring the little Prince and Princess +with him? + +SASCHA. _Of course_ my lady and the children weren't in +Siberia with the Baron. They've been in some foreign country--I +forget where--all these years. And now the Baron has sent for them, +and they have all come back to the castle to keep Christmas together. + +MATRENA. Oh, how glad I am! + +SASCHA. What are you glad for? It won't make any difference +to _us_. + +MATRENA. But I'm glad, anyway! + +KOLINKA. Of course she is, and so we all are, Sascha--glad +for the Baron and the lady, and the children, too. + +NICOLAS. Did you say they were coming here, Sascha? + +PAVLO. Are we going to see them? + +SASCHA. No, of course not. They've come to the castle, and +it will be the wonder of wonders if _we_ see them. + +KOLINKA [_kindly_]. Perhaps they will drive through the +village in their beautiful sleigh, Nicolas, and then you and Pavlo +will have a chance to see them. + +SASCHA. They did say, at the village well, that now the +Baron is home, there will be more strangers in the village again. + +MARIE. All the better for the village, and that's a very +good reason for you to come down and work, Sascha. We can sell what +we make to these same strangers, and earn a few kopeks for poor +Father. + +SASCHA. That's so, Marie. [_Comes down ladder and begins +to examine work._] I believe I'll make some more forks and spoons. +[_Consults_ MARIE _in pantomime._] + +NICOLAS. Let's play wolf hunt, Pavlo! I'll be a wolf---- +[_Covers himself with a skin._] + +PAVLO. And I'll be a hunter with a club! [_Jumps up and arms +himself._ NICOLAS _growls realistically._ PAVLO _prepares to strike._] + +KOLINKA [_suddenly, in a startled voice_]. What's that +outside! + +NICOLAS. Bears! + +PAVLO. No, it's a wolf! [_They throw down skin and club and +fly to the top of the stove._] + +PAVLO _and_ NICOLAS [_terror-stricken_]. Wolf! Wolf! + + [MARIE _and_ KOLINKA _go to window._ + SASCHA _tries to see out, then goes to unbolt + door._ + +MATRENA [_running to foot of ladder and shaking her finger at_ +NICOLAS _and_ PAVLO]. You bad boys! you've waked the baby! + +KOLINKA. Be quiet, boys! It's not a wolf at all. + +MATRENA. Nor a bear, either. [_Rocks cradle, and pats and +hushes baby._] + +MARIE. It's some poor body lost in the snow, perhaps. + + [SASCHA _gets door open and runs out._ + +SASCHA [_without_]. Have you lost your way? Come with me. +Here is our door. It's a bitter cold night. + + [MATRENA _leaves cradle and stands by_ MARIE. + _Enter_ SASCHA _with_ PRINCE _and_ PRINCESS. + NICOLAS _and_ PAVLO _watch with + interest._ + +KOLINKA [_going forward hospitably_]. Come in; you are very +welcome. [_Sees the strange guests._] Oh---- + +MARIE [_aside_]. Oh, Matrena, who can it be? + +MATRENA [_aside_]. Marie, just see how beautifully they are +dressed! + + [_Children stand back abashed._ SASCHA _remains + by door._ + +PRINCE [_who leads_ PRINCESS _by the hand_]. We +thank you for taking us in. I am the Prince Dimitri from the castle, +and this is my sister, the Princess Dagmar. + +PRINCESS. And we have lost our way. + +KOLINKA [_timidly_]. We--we didn't know who it was. I'm so +glad we heard you. + +MARIE [_gently taking_ PRINCESS' _hand_]. Oh, +Matrena, how cold her hand is! Come near our stove, my lady, and warm +yourself. + + [MARIE _and_ MATRENA _rub the_ PRINCESS' + _hands while the boys on the stove peer + down curiously. The_ PRINCE _puts his + hands against stove._ SASCHA _and_ KOLINKA + _stand staring at the strangers._ + +SASCHA. How did you get lost? + +PRINCE. We wanted to see our beautiful forest---- + +PRINCESS. You see, we have only been here for a few days. + +PRINCE. So we started out for a little walk. We didn't mean +to go far at all, but before we knew it we had lost sight of the +castle. + +PRINCESS. And though we tried and tried to find it again, we +kept getting deeper into the forest. + +SASCHA. But how did you come to the village? It isn't very +far from the castle, but it is hard to find unless you know the road, +or just the right path in the forest. + +KOLINKA. Yes, how did you come here? + +PRINCESS. An old woman found us wandering about trying to +find the path, and she brought us here. Such a strange old woman, all +wrinkled and bent. + +PRINCE. _She_ seemed to know just how to come here, though I +couldn't tell what was guiding her. + +PRINCESS. And she was so good and kind to us--but she never +spoke once, all the way. + +MARIE [_clapping her hands_]. It must have been the Babushka! + +SASCHA. Of course it was! + +KOLINKA _and_ MATRENA. How wonderful! + +NICOLAS _and_ PAVLO. Babushka! Babushka! + +PRINCE [_puzzled_]. The Babushka? + +PRINCESS. Who is she? + +SASCHA. What! you, Russian children, and don't know that! + +KOLINKA [_aside_]. Hush, Sascha, don't be rude. You forget they have +been away ever since they were babies, almost. [_To_ PRINCE.] We can +tell you all about the Babushka, Prince. Sit down, and Marie will +tell you the story. Marie knows it best. [KOLINKA, SASCHA, _and_ +MARIE _draw benches forward and all sit down_, MARIE _in the center, +the rest not too close to her._ PRINCE _and_ PRINCESS _on bench +to R._, MATRENA _on end of_ MARIE'S _bench._ SASCHA _stands near_ +MATRENA. KOLINKA _behind the group, knitting._ NICOLAS _and_ PAVLO +_watch gravely._] + +NICOLAS. There aren't any bears or wolves coming, Pavlo? + +PAVLO. No. And Marie's going to tell a story. + +NICOLAS. Let's get down. [_They scramble down the ladder, +and seat themselves at_ MARIE'S _feet._] + +MARIE. Was the old woman in the forest all dressed in gray? + +PRINCESS. Yes, all in a long gray cloak, with a queer white +cap on her head. + +MARIE. Yes. Then I'm certain it was the Babushka. She is +sure to be wandering about on Christmas Eve. + +PRINCE. Is she? + +PRINCESS. Why? + +MARIE. That's what the story is about. Once upon a time, +hundreds and hundreds of years ago, there was a lonely little house +out in the fields where four great roads met. + +SASCHA. And by the house there was a big guidepost that +pointed four ways at once, to show people which road to take. +[_Stretches out both arms and swings his body slowly to show how the +post points._] + +MARIE. Babushka lived all alone in the little cottage. In +the summer the place didn't seem so lonely, for the banks at the +roadside were covered with bright flowers, and the days were long and +full of sunshine. But in the winter everything was white as far as +Babushka could see, and the wind howled, and the wolves howled, and +the birds were all gone. And Babushka was poor, and old, and lonely. +One winter day, when she was hurrying to get her work all done and +her house tidied before the dark came down, because she was too +poor to buy candles for herself, she heard a strange sound outside +like silver bells ringing above the whistling wind. She looked out +of her little window and saw a great train of people coming down +the broadest of the roads toward the crossroad. She never had seen +anything so strange before, for the leaders were not traveling in +sleighs or on horseback, but on three great splendid white camels. +The silver bells were hung about the camels' necks, and their saddles +were decorated with silver ornaments. And on the camels rode Three +Kings. Babushka knew they were kings because they were so richly +dressed and because each one wore a golden crown on his head. And +after them followed a long train of servants and guards. The Kings +did not know which road to take, and one of the servants was sent to +knock on Babushka's door and ask the way. At first the old woman was +so frightened that she wouldn't open the door, nor answer at all, and +the Kings themselves had to get down from their camels and come to +speak with her. The servants frightened Babushka, but the Kings were +so kind to her that she soon told them all she knew about the four +great roads. It wasn't very much, for she had never traveled further +than the nearest village, but she told the Kings that there they +could find shelter for themselves and their camels and their servants. + +Then the first King said: "We have journeyed a very long way, +Babushka. We have been guided on the road by a glorious, shining +Star, and we know that by and by the Star will lead us to a little +new-born Baby." + +The poor old Babushka wondered very much, and said: "Who is the +little child, my lord, that you should take such a long, hard journey +to find him?" + +And the first King said: "He is a great King--the King of all the +earth. When we find Him we will lay our crowns at His feet, with +these gifts we have brought--gold, and frankincense, and myrrh. We +are called Gaspar, Melchior, and Balthazar." + +Babushka listened and looked. She saw the gold crowns, and she saw +that each one of the Kings bore in his hand a gift--one held a richly +embroidered bag which looked heavy, and it was, for it was filled +with gold. Another carried a beautiful crystal jar full of something +clear and golden. Babushka knew this must be myrrh, and suddenly she +knew, too, that the fragrance of spices filling the poor little house +must come from the incense in the stone vase she saw in the hands of +the third King. + +She listened and looked, and then she said: "Kings have no need of +gifts, my lord. Why do you carry these gifts to the little child?" + +And the first King said: "Because this King of all the Earth is the +King of Love, or He would not have come down into the world as a +little child. And because we love Him more than everything else, we +are bringing Him the very best that we have." + +And the second King said: "Come, Babushka, go with us on our journey +to find the Christ-Child. He has come into the world to love and help +just such poor old creatures as you." + +And the third King said: "There is room in His heart for you, and we +will gladly help you on the journey to Him." + +And all the Kings begged her to go with them. But Babushka was afraid +and unwilling. She saw how cold and dreary it was outside, and she +knew that she was warm and dry in her little hut, even if she was +so poor. She didn't know anything better than just to have enough +to eat, and a fire to keep her warm. She looked up into the dark, +threatening sky, and couldn't see any marvelous star through the +thick clouds. And, besides, she wanted to finish sweeping up her +house. She must surely do that first of all. But the Kings could not +wait, so they mounted their camels again, and soon Babushka heard +the music of the silver bells growing fainter and fainter in the +distance. All the next day, and the day after, and the day after +that, and every day all the year, and through all the years, Babushka +thought of her strange visitors. And still more she thought of the +little Child. And the more she thought, the more she grew to love +Him, until at last she began to wish she had gone with the Three +Kings. She grew more and more unhappy about it, until one day she +made up her mind that she would set out alone to try to find the +Child. She forgot how many, many years had gone by since the visit of +the Kings, and she didn't know that the Child had gone back to His +Throne in Heaven again. She locked her little cottage and set out, +going from village to village and from house to house, everywhere +seeking for the Christ-Child. When she found a little child who was +kind and loving and true, she said to herself: "This little one looks +as the Child I am seeking must have looked," and it made her very +happy. But still she didn't find the Child the Kings had found. + +And, Princess, though it all happened such hundreds and hundreds of +years ago, the Babushka is still hurrying over the world in winter +time, looking in every nursery and every cottage for the little +Christ-Child. She comes in softly with just a rustle of her skirts, +and bends over the beds where little children lie asleep. She always +puts some small gift on the pillow, and steals silently out again. It +is only the children that are good and quiet who ever see her, and +she makes friends with them and gives them Christmas presents. But +she loves the babies best of all, I know, because she still hopes +to find among them the Baby who was laid in a manger on the first +Christmas. + +MATRENA [_after an instant's pause, pointing to window_]. +Someone is at the window! + +PRINCESS. I see her--it's the old woman who led us out of +the forest! + +SASCHA. It's the Babushka! + +KOLINKA. Perhaps she will come in. Let's be very quiet. + +MATRENA. Let's sing--the Babushka loves our carols. + + [_Children sing softly the carol of the Birds. + Enter_ BABUSHKA, _very quietly. Lays her + hand on_ PAVLO'S, _then on_ NICOLAS' _head, + and gazes earnestly at them._ + + [_Kneels by cradle, bending over the baby, and + kisses it. Rises, stands watching the children + a moment, then glides silently out. + Children see her pass window, then the + song ceases._ + +PRINCESS [_suddenly springing up_]. Oh, Dimitri, why didn't +we beg the Babushka to take us home to the castle? Our Father and +Mother will be so terribly frightened when we don't come back! + +PRINCE [_hurrying to door_]. Perhaps it isn't too late. + +SASCHA [_catching his arm, and standing before the door_]. +No, no! you couldn't catch her. + +KOLINKA. And you mustn't go out in the cold again. + +PRINCESS [_in great distress_]. But we must let our father +know we are safe! + +KOLINKA. We will send a messenger as soon as we can, but +there is no one in the village to-night---- + +SASCHA. The wolves have been so bad that all the men have +gone out to hunt them. + +KOLINKA. Perhaps someone will be back soon, and then we can +send. It isn't safe for the boys to go alone into the forest so late. + +SASCHA [_to_ PRINCE]. Father made me promise not to +go away until he came home. I'm not a bit afraid, though. + +KOLINKA. Sascha, run and ask old Semyon what he thinks. +[_Exit_ SASCHA.] Sascha will bring Semyon back with him. + +NICOLAS. Perhaps Ivan will come, too. + +MATRENA. Ivan and Semyon play their violins and sing--Ivan +is Semyon's grandson, you know. + +PAVLO. And we sing, too. + +NICOLAS. We'll sing for you when they come. + +PRINCE. Will you? That's nice. + +MARIE. We sing all the songs we know on winter nights. And +while we sing we work. See, Princess, this is our winter work. + + [PRINCE _and_ PRINCESS _go to table and look + over wooden articles and baskets, with_ + MARIE _and_ MATRENA. KOLINKA _stands + by window._ + +NICOLAS [_to_ PAVLO]. I'm glad I wasn't big enough +to go wolf-hunting, aren't you, Pavlo, because now we've seen the +Prince and the Princess. + +PAVLO. And Sascha said they wouldn't come here--but they +did. Let's go up on the stove again, Nicolas. [_They climb upon the +stove._] + +KOLINKA. There they come. [_Opens door. Enter_ +SASCHA, SEMYON, _and_ IVAN.] Did you tell +Semyon, Sascha? + +SASCHA. Yes, and he says we must wait. + +SEMYON. Good-evening to you all. + +CHILDREN. Good-evening. + +SEMYON [_bowing_]. It's a poor, cold welcome home we give to +our Prince and Princess, but we are glad to see them among us again. + +PRINCE. I'm sure they've all been kind, little father. + +SEMYON [_bowing again, to Prince_]. I'm sorry, my lord, that +there is no way to send a message to the Baron, but our boys are too +young, and I am too feeble. The men will be at home soon, I hope, and +meanwhile you must be patient. + +MARIE. Oh, Semyon, let us have some carols [_to_ +PRINCESS], and then the time will go quickly. + +SEMYON. Ivan and I are always glad to make music on +Christmas Eve. + +IVAN. Or any other eve, either, Grandfather. + + [SEMYON _sits in center of stage_, IVAN _standing + beside him. They play their violins + and sing the ballad of King Wenceslas, all + the children joining in the chorus._ + +NICOLAS. Sister, sister, I hear somebody shouting, outside! + +SASCHA [_rushing to door_]. The men come back from the wolf +hunt! + +IVAN. Let's see what they've killed. [_Exeunt_ IVAN +_and_ SASCHA.] + +KOLINKA. No, it's not our father--they're all men that look +like soldiers. + +MARIE. It's the people from the castle come to look for you! + + [_Door flies open. Enter_ IVAN _and_ SASCHA + _with_ BARON. PRINCE _and_ PRINCESS _rush + to him._ + +PRINCE _and_ PRINCESS. Father! Father! + +BARON. My children! Are you both safe? + +PRINCESS. Oh, yes, Father. These children have been so good +to us. + +BARON. Have they, my dear? Then they have been good to me, +too, and I thank them with all my heart. + +KOLINKA. Oh, we haven't done anything, sir! + +PRINCE. Tell us how you found out where we were, Father? + +BARON. In rather a queer way, my son. We didn't miss you +just at once, but as soon as we knew you were gone everyone was in +a great fright, you may be sure. I started out with Sergius and +Smoloff, and half a dozen others to search for you in the forest. We +hadn't gone a hundred yards from the castle when we met the strangest +little old woman I ever saw, all dressed in gray, and wrinkled and +bent---- + +PRINCESS [_clapping her hands_]. The Babushka, Father, the +Babushka! + +MARIE, SASCHA, _and_ KOLINKA. The Babushka +took the message! + +PRINCE. It was she who brought us here! + +SEMYON. Have you never heard of the Babushka, Baron? + +BARON. Yes, yes! I know the old story of the Babushka, but I +never saw her before. + +IVAN. She always comes to our village at Christmas time. We +don't all see her every year, but somebody always sees her. + +PRINCE. What did she do, Father? + +BARON. She did not speak at all. She looked at us for a +moment with the softest eyes imaginable, and then she stooped down +and pointed to your footprints in the snow. Then she pointed toward +the village, smiled, and beckoned to us to follow her. It seemed as +if she must have guessed our trouble, and she seemed so sure and so +full of cheer, that we couldn't help believing we should find you, +and followed her at once. I must reward her liberally for the great +service she has done me and mine this night. + +MARIE. The Babushka wants no reward, Baron. You know what it +is she has been searching for all these years? Grandmother says it +was Love the Babushka wanted, and she has surely found it, for every +little child in Russia loves her dearly, dearly, and watches for her +at Christmas time. + +IVAN. And when she comes, the children sing their carols for +her. But the one she loves best is the "Golden Carol"--that's the +song of the Three Kings, you know, sir. + +SEMYON [_in doorway_]. The Babushka is coming now, with +her followers, my lord. Here they are! [_Enter a troop of village +children, the_ BABUSHKA _in their midst, smiling on them, +and now and then patting some little one on the head. She stands in +the center of the stage and distributes gifts to the children from +a quaint basket, answering their cries and questions by nods and +smiles, each child exclaiming "Thank you!" "How nice!" etc., as he +receives his gift._] + +CHILDREN. Oh, Babushka! dear, good Babushka! + +SOPHIA. Have you got something for everybody? + +MALASHKA. Are you quite sure? + +SERGIUS. Me, too, Babushka! + +MASHA. I've tried to be good, all the whole year! + +CHILDREN. We all have, _truly_, Babushka. + +SERGIUS. I've had good lessons--you can ask the +school-teacher. + +KATINKA. My mother says I've been a good girl--aren't you +glad? + +PETER. Please, Babushka--I--I'm afraid I haven't been a very +good boy. But I'm sorry, and I'll try to do better next year. I'll be +bigger, then. + +PRASKOVIA. We'll all be very, very good next year--won't we, +children? + +CHILDREN. Indeed we will, Babushka. + +BORIS. Perhaps it will be easier next year. + +FEODOSIA. Oh, please, Babushka, I have a baby brother at +home. Could you give me something for him? + +LEO. My big brother has gone wolf-hunting with the men, but +he'll be sorry enough he missed you, Babushka. + +MICHAEL. So has mine, and he'll be sorry, too. + +NADIA. Dear Babushka, I've kept the present so carefully +that you gave me last year. + +MALASHKA. Oh, _did_ you? Mine got broken and I cried. + +CHILDREN. Oh, Babushka, we love you, we love you! Why can't +you stay with us always? Live here with us--in our village. + +SASCHA. Babushka! You must have something for the Prince and +Princess, haven't you? + + [_As the_ BABUSHKA _gives them something, the_ + BARON _turns to the children._ + +BARON. Children, the Babushka has given the best present of +all to me. + + [_Children stare in surprise._ + +MARIE. Oh, I know! I know what it was! + +BARON. Yes, some of you can guess. The Prince and the +Princess were my Christmas present, for the Babushka gave them back +to me. + + [_Children laugh and clap._ + +SEMYON [_tapping his violin for quiet_]. Come, children, we +must sing for the Babushka! + +CHILDREN. Yes--we always do. [_Applaud again._ +SEMYON _and_ IVAN _play, while children sing "The +Golden Carol."_] + +[Music: THE GOLDEN CAROL + +of MELCHIOR, BALTHAZAR, and GASPAR.] + + We saw a light shine out afar, + On Christmas in the morning, + And straight we knew Christ's star it was, + Bright beaming in the morning. + Then did we fall on bended knee, + On Christmas in the morning, + And praised the Lord, who'd let us see, + His glory at its dawning. + + 2. Oh, ever thought be of His Name, + On Christmas in the morning, + Who bore for us both grief and shame, + Afflictions sharpest scorning. + And may we die (when death shall come) + On Christmas in the morning, + And see in heaven, our glorious home, + That Star of Christmas morning. + + +CURTAIN + + +NOTES ON SETTING, MUSIC, AND COSTUME + +RUSSIAN OVEN. Made from a wooden packing-case, five or six +feet in height, covered with cambric, and painted to represent stone, +brick, or tiles. These stoves are decorated with rich panels in bold +conventional designs of flower or animal forms, or combinations of +geometrical figures. They are often so large that in the bitter +weather whole families may sleep on their tops, or on a platform +above. + +IKONS. Pictures of the Christ, the Madonna, and the Saints, +much ornamented with gilt, and placed on a ledge in "the beautiful +corner," with candles in silver candlesticks, sweet-smelling grasses, +and flowers, real or of paper. Sometimes a carved wooden pigeon is +also placed before the ikons--the emblem of the Holy Spirit. The +wall in this corner is hung with long towels, either covered with +embroidery, or embroidered at the ends. Everyone who enters the room +makes an obeisance, and crosses himself, before the ikons. They are +specially decorated for Christmas. + +Make the towels with stencils, as described in the notes on girls' +costumes. + +The same characteristic designs are placed on ledges, cupboards, and +shelves, on the chest, or coffer, and ceiling beam, on carved wooden +boxes, dishes, and jugs, which are often displayed on a sideboard. +The knife and loaf placed on the coffer constitute a symbol of +hospitality. + +The decoration of the stage need be limited only by time and +resources. + +MUSIC + +Search for information in regard to carol-singing in Russia having +been unsuccessful, old carols have been chosen which lend an +atmosphere of quaintness. The "Carol of the Birds" is old French, +the others English, "The Golden Carol" of the Magi being especially +appropriate to the story. + +The sources for "Good King Wenceslas" are given on p. 316. The +singing of this carol (also the "Golden Carol") is accompanied by the +Village Fiddlers on their violins. Semyon sings the part of the King, +Ivan that of the Page, all the children the narrative parts. + +Others, with better knowledge of the subject, may be able to obtain +music more strictly suitable. The author would be glad to gain any +accurate information in regard to the use of Christmas carols in +Russia. + +COSTUMES + +BOYS wear Russian blouses, and dark trousers, their legs +bound, from feet to knees, with yellowish rags; shoes suggesting +moccasins. Blouses may be made of canton flannel, white, or dull +colors, or of unbleached muslin, reaching halfway to knees. Neck +finished in a band; opening from collar down left side is not more +than six or eight inches, giving just room enough to put the head +through. Trim this collar and opening, also sleeves, with fur; or +put on a conventional border with stencil and paints, narrow at neck +opening, broad on sleeves. Tie in at waist with a short sash, ends +hanging, of bright color to match borders. + +Outdoor winter costume of boys is a very thick, very full-skirted +coat of dark color, immense boots, cap of fur, or fur-bordered, and +bright scarf about neck, ends tucked into breast of coat. The village +children, however, may be supposed to rush in from their houses, +after the Babushka, without coats, but dressed as above, which is +both simpler and more picturesque. + +GIRLS' costumes vary a little more. + + 1. Sleeveless dress, to ankles; white guimpe, long full + sleeves. Dress of bright colors, with band of plain color + edging bottom of skirt, neck, both of dress and guimpe, + and bordering white sleeves. Apron, white, with stenciled + designs in various colors. + + 2. Skirt to ankles, of soft faded blue or red, worn high on + the short white waist, which has full sleeves, gathered in + a band at the elbow. Trimmed with stenciled bands in bright + colors, at hem of skirt, on neck and sleeves, and also at + the edge of an immense handkerchief worn on the head and + knotted under the chin. This is large enough to spread out + over shoulders, and is straight across the back. + + 3. Plain narrow skirt of soft color, with a long-sleeved + apron (cream white), low-necked in front, and cut like an + Eton jacket in the back. This skirt has a band of plain + color at the hem, but the apron is trimmed with many rows + of stenciled patterns at the bottom, a narrow pattern + at neck and hand, and a broader one around the back at + the waist. White chemisette in front, also with band of + trimming. + +Girls wear knots of ribbon hanging from the ends of their braids, +many strings of bright beads on the neck, and large gold hoops, or +enameled earrings in their ears. They may wear low shoes with bows +or buckles, or the soft, thick moccasin-like shoes worn by the boys. + +Some few may be bareheaded. Others wear the large handkerchiefs +described above, and still others the picturesque "kokochnik," a +velvet, bead-trimmed crescent, worn forward on the head as in the +picture of "Marie." These are easily cut from cardboard, covered with +velvet, and trimmed in different patterns with small beads. + +The stenciled patterns above-mentioned take the place of Russian +embroideries. They are repeated conventional designs, Greek patterns, +and fantastic forms of flowers, birds, and animals. Stenciling is +suggested as being the easiest and quickest way of getting the +desired effect. + +THE BABUSHKA. Long robe, and hooded cloak of light gray +canton flannel. The hood is worn over the head. She carries a quaint +basket filled with cheap little toys. + +An adult is needed for this part, or an older girl of sufficient +insight and appreciation to carry out the simple pantomime and fill +it with the love and deep yearning of the Babushka, who is really a +spirit, and not a human being at all. + +THE BARON. Long military coat, below knees; cream-colored, +trimmed on breast with a pattern in gold braid, a band of same around +the edge and up the slits at the sides. Double collar, standing up +behind head and lying flat across back, scarlet with a gilt pattern. +Scarlet sash with sword or dagger. Red boots with blue heels. Spurs. +Sleeves open from shoulder to fur-trimmed cuff, and worn hanging. +Under-sleeve, and lining of coat-sleeve of a rich color. Hat with +flat-topped crown about eight inches high, scarlet, with gold +pattern; standing brim, dark brown, three inches high, cleft in +front to show more of red and gold. Gilt cockade in front. + +PRINCE. Russian blouse with military trimmings, scarlet and +white. Khaki trousers, boots, fur cap. + +PRINCESS. White cape and hood, trimmed with fur and silver. +Dress underneath not unlike the little peasants', but more richly +trimmed. + +OLD SEMYON. Long brown robe, halfway below knees, skirt +rather full. Legs bound in tan-colored rags. Moccasins. Coat has +broad collar with long reveres, and plain high vest inside, of same +material as coat. Hat made of the same, low, with rolling brim, +giving a turban-like effect. Long white hair and beard. + +Marie, the eldest of the children, is perhaps fourteen; Kolinka, +twelve; Matrena, nine; Sascha, Ivan, and the Prince, eleven or +twelve; Pavlo and Nicolas, five or six; the Princess, nine. The +Village children should be rather small. + +Satisfactory pictures of Russian homes and costumes are very +difficult to find, but there is a series of fairy-tales in Russian, +beautifully illustrated in color, which will be found most helpful to +those wishing to make costumes for this play. These books are to be +had at the Russian Importing Company, 452 Boylston Street, Boston, +and may also be seen in some of the larger Public Libraries. + + + + +A CANVAS CHRISTMAS + +IN TWO ACTS + + +CHARACTERS + + PETER PEPPER, Ringmaster, and owner of Pepper's Perennial Circus. + HARRY HOPKINS } + LIMBER JACK } otherwise MARCO BROTHERS, Acrobats. + BARNEY O'BRIEN } } SIGNOR FRENCELLI } + JERRY PICKLE } otherwise } SIGNOR COCODILLA } Clowns. + BEN JACKSON, otherwise MR. BARLOW, Minstrel and hand. + DUTCH, peanut-man and general factotum. + MIKE MCGINNIS, otherwise PROFESSOR WORMWOOD, Animal-trainer. + TIM, one of the hands. + SCHNEIDER, the Dog. + JOCKO, the Monkey. + FARMER SIMPSON. + BENJAMIN FRANKLIN SIMPSON--"BUB"--(Eight years old.) } + DANIEL WEBSTER SIMPSON--"SONNY"--(Five years old.) } his boys. + + +A CANVAS CHRISTMAS + +Written for a club of boys from twelve to seventeen. + + +ACT I + +TIME: _Ten o'clock on Christmas Eve._ + +SCENE: _The mess-tent of Pepper's Perennial Circus, very bare +and shabby, with circus litter about; signs, "No Smoking," "Next +performance, 2 P.M.," posters, etc., on the tent walls; a rough +mess-table of boards and trestles, with boxes, stools, two broken +chairs, etc., for seats. Pile of old blankets in one corner. +Lantern hangs in center of tent, and another [L.] at entrance to +circus tent. [R.], another exit, leading out of doors. Music [if +possible] from circus tent, playing last strains of "Home, Sweet +Home." Burst of applause from circus tent, the flaps part, and the +troupe enters_ [_excepting_ PEPPER, MIKE, _and the animals_], _weary +and discontented, and drop down anywhere to rest._ HOPKINS _throws +himself on pile of blankets [R.]_, JACK _takes a box nearby_, BARNEY +_sits on table, and_ JERRY _goes to entrance [R.], fanning himself +with his hat._ BEN _takes box [L.], and_ DUTCH _enters last, slipping +the straps of his peanut-tray from his shoulders and setting it on +the end of the table._ + +HARRY [_sullenly_]. This 'ere's the worst night we've 'ad +yet. + +JACK. You bet yer life! + +BARNEY. Faix! I've no futs left an me at all, at all! + +TIM [_rubs his arms_]. I'm lame all over. It's me for the +liniment bottle! + +JERRY. I'm as tired as any of you guys, but I'm a good deal +madder than I'm tired. + +JACK. I should say. + +HARRY. 'Ow could we be h'anything but tired and h'angry, I'd +like to h'arsk, with such a boss as old Pepper? + +BEN. Gen'lemen--Mr. Pepper he su'tinly war pretty bad, dis +evenin'--in fac' I may say he war de limit. + +JERRY. And no excuse for it, either. + +BARNEY. Was it excuse, ye said? + +DUTCH. Mishter Pepper he don't vaits for no excuse. You'd +t'ink ve vas all der lazy loafers--und der ain'd a lazy bone in der +whole boonch. + + [_Enter_ MIKE, _with dog, and leading monkey._ + +MIKE. The sound of yez all is quite familiar. Be ye knockin' +the boss again? + +BEN. We-all got mighty good reason, Mr. McGinnis. + +HARRY. 'E's not getting a think but wot 'e's earned for +'isself. + +JACK. Work a fellow to skin and bone! + +BARNEY. Wid nary bit o' regard to his iligant muscle, Limber +Jack? + +JACK. It's true--no joshin', Barney! + +BARNEY. Niver a bit of it, darlin'! + +JERRY. It's all work and no rest---- + +MIKE. And niver a dacint worrud, even for the dumb +bastes---- [_Pats dog and monkey. Dog goes about from one to another +expecting pats and caresses, which are absent-mindedly given. Monkey, +unobserved, steals peanuts from tray._] + +TIM. Nothing but blame, morning, noon, and night! + +DUTCH. Und ven der vork is ofer, ve don't gets noddings +enough to eats--ain'd? + +BEN. Gentlemen, I'm 'bliged to admit dat I'm hungry all de +day long! + +HARRY. H'and h'all night, you might say, and no +h'exaggeratin'. + +TIM. We're all of us half starved. + +JERRY [_warningly_]. Here's the boss, fellows! + + [_Enter_ PETER, _striding into tent and giving + an angry glance around._ + +PETER [_suspiciously_]. What are you all doing here? You, +Tim, get a hustle on and put out those lights in the big tent. +[_Exit_ TIM, _slowly and sullenly._] Mike McGinnis, go put +your beasts in their cages--look at that monkey wasting the peanuts! +Dutch, you aren't worth your salt--can't you take care of your stuff? +[MIKE, _with an injured air, leads out monkey and whistles +dog after him._ DUTCH, _much aggrieved, takes up tray, and +moves it to another place._] Jerry Pickle, if you and O'Brien can't +ring in something new for your turn, you'll soon be given the hook, +and Ben's jokes are all stale enough to crumble. As for you, Hopkins, +I consider your riding to-night a flunk, and you and Jack are no +acrobats at all--you're just a couple of dubs. The show's always had +the name of a first-class show, and it's going to keep up to it, if +I've got to throw you all out and get a new lot. So you want to look +out--see? [_Exit angrily._] + +HARRY [_jumping up_]. There's a-goin' to be h'end of +this--as sure as my name's 'Arry 'Opkins! + +JERRY. Well, I'm with you, for one. We never go into winter +quarters for a rest---- + +HARRY. No, for the h'old skinflint goes and brings 'is +bloomin' show South---- + +JERRY. So's he can keep open all year round, and double his +profits. + +DUTCH. Und vat does ve get oud of ut? Yust noddings. + +JERRY. I should say not! We're half paid and half fed, and +worked double, and I for one have took all I'll stand. + +JACK. I'm with you there. + +TIM. So'm I, Jerry. + +BARNEY. Bedad, it's in the same box we all are. + +MIKE. True for you, Barney. We'd all better be quittin'. + +BEN. Gen'lemen! dis yere 'lustrous Company a' unanimous. +We all 'low dat Mr. Pepper have got to reform. We-all mus' draw up +a partition an' prohibit Mr. Pepper for conduc' unbecomin' to a +Ringmaster. Gen'lemen, let us take action. + +HARRY. H'action be blowed! If it's 'ighly satisfactory to +h'agitate petitions, or throw up your jobs--w'y, _I_ calls that just +nothin' doin'. No h'A-1 h'acrobat is a-goin' to stand bein' told 'e's +flunked in his best h'act. _I_ don't till I've pied 'im h'up. + + [_A murmur of assent, and all draw closer + about him (R. front), speaking with lowered + voices._ + +BARNEY. That's something like talk, that is! + +MIKE. I'm wid yez, Harry, me b'y. + +JERRY. I'd like to burn his old show over his head. + +TIM. Just doctor his wagon-axles a little, and when they +break down, we'll take to the woods! + +JACK. _Much_ he'll get a new lot. + +BEN. No, gen'lemen--I got dat proposition beat---- + + [_Words become inaudible; they draw closer + yet. The canvas (back Center) parts. + Enter_ BUB _and_ SONNY, _very cautiously + and timidly, peering about. They come + forward a little, and pause, looking at + group._ + +BUB. This is sure enough the circus, Sonny. Look at those +men. + + [_The troupe fall apart guiltily, and look with + amazement at the children._ + +BUB [_grips_ SONNY'S _hand and comes forward +slowly_]. Please, mister, is the circus all over? + +BEN. Laws, honey, you didn' 'spec' to fin' no circus dis +time o' night? + +BARNEY. Sure, an' ut's time we was all tucked into our +little beds, an' the same to _you_, bedad. + +HARRY. Maybe you'll do us the honor to tell us your names? + +BUB [_impressively_]. My name is Benjamin Franklin Simpson. + +SONNY. An' mine is Daniel Webster Simpson. + +MIKE [_pretends to faint_]. Oh, would some of yez have the +goodness to fan me! [JACK _obliges him._] + +JERRY. Give us a shorter one! They don't call you that every +time you get your orders, I'm sure. + + [_Enter_ PEPPER, _watching unnoticed from + background._ + +BUB. No; I'm just Bub, and he's Sonny. + +TIM. That's more like it. + +JACK. Breathe easy, Mike. + +HARRY. Well, Mr. Benjamin Franklin Bub, will you h'inform us +where you 'ails from? + +BUB. We live over the mountain, by Pinesburg, an' we wanted +to see the circus, so we just ran off and came. + +JERRY. Pinesburg--that's ten miles off. How'd you say you +come? + +BUB. Just walked. + +SONNY [_rubbing his fists in his eyes_]. An' the circus is +all over, an' I'm so tired! [_Men murmur sympathetically, and the +group breaks and re-forms around the boys. Men gather about, some +squatting near the boys, others standing behind._] + +BARNEY. Futted it ivery shtep! + +MIKE. Tired, is it?--yez must be dead! + +HARRY. Poor kids! + +DUTCH. Und ve all leafin' der kinder shtandin'. Here--der +box seats ain'd all sold yet. [_Brings box and seats them kindly._] + +BEN [_kneeling before them_]. Why--dey shoes is all bust +out---- + +JERRY. The poor kids ought to be in bed. + +TIM. Did you have any supper? + +JACK. When did you say you started? + +BUB. Right after dinner, an' we thought we could get here +for the show to-night, but, you see, Sonny couldn't walk very fast---- + +SONNY [_sets up a howl, gives_ BUB _a punch that +nearly knocks him off the box, and rubs his eyes harder than ever_]. +I did, too, now, Bub! I walked an' I walked an' I walked, so I did! +An' I want my supper, I do, an' I want to go to bed! + +JERRY. Hustle off, Dutch, and get the poor kid some grub---- + + [_Exit_ DUTCH _in haste._ + +BARNEY. Sure an' one of them can bunk with me. + +JACK. I'll take the other in my bunk. + +MIKE. If it's blankets they're wantin' they're welcome to +mine. + +BEN. Dey's lots ob blankets, gen'lemen! I'll fix 'em a place +tergedder as sof' as a fedder-bed! + + [PEPPER _comes forward._ + +HARRY [_under his breath_]. 'Ere's the h'old h'ogre wot'll +scare 'em to death. + +PEPPER [_with unexpected amiability_]. That's right, Ben, +make 'em up a good bed in the sleeping-tent with the extra blankets. +What do you fellows suppose their marm's thinking, about now? [_Exit_ +BEN.] You kids, did you say you _ran away_? + +BUB [_a little frightened_]. Ye-es, sir--we couldn't help +it. You see--our folks is _strict_. They never went to circuses, and +they don't let their boys go. + +PEPPER. Well, has your folks got a telephone?--most +farmers've got 'em these days. + +BUB _and_ SONNY. Yes, sir---- + +PEPPER [_giving_ TIM _money_]. Here, Tim, you run +out and telephone to---- Simpson, is it? + +BUB. Yes, sir,--Jonathan Simpson. + +PEPPER. And tell him his kids are safe, and we'll take care +of 'em all right. [TIM _starts out._] And, Tim---- [_Follows +him and speaks aside._] Fix it up with him to let 'em stay to the +afternoon show. + + [PEPPER _lingers with_ TIM _at tent door. + Troupe overcome with surprise._ + +BARNEY. Will yez all hark to that! + +HARRY. I didn't think 'as 'ow 'e 'ad h'it h'in 'im! + +OTHERS. No! + + [_Enter_ DUTCH _with thick sandwiches, which + the boys munch eagerly._ PEPPER _comes + forward and watches._ + +DUTCH. So! Das ist besser. + +BEN. How'd dat chile's sho't legs ebber do ten mile, anyhow? + +JERRY. Pretty sandy, that! + +PEPPER. What did you boys run away for on Christmas +Eve--weren't you afraid of missing your presents and the Christmas +Tree? + +BUB [_between bites_]. Presents? We don't get none! + +SONNY. I never saw a Christmas Tree. [_He grows very sleepy and leans +his head against_ BUB, _who keeps moving and letting it slip off +while talking with the men._] + +DUTCH [_horrified_]. You don't effer hafe no Christmas? + +BUB. No. I told you our folks is _strict_. My dad didn't let +us go to the Christmas Tree they had at the Sunday-school, neither. + +PEPPER. I didn't suppose that kind of strictness was left in +the country. + +BUB [_with conviction_]. My dad's that kind of strict. + +BEN. Dat po' chile's mos' ersleep now. Come on, honey. +Ben'll take you to bed. [_Lifts_ SONNY _in his arms._] + +PEPPER. That's right, Ben. Run on with him, Bub--Ben'll +take care of you. [_Exit_ BEN, _with children. Enter_ +TIM.] Well, Tim, did you get Simpson? + +TIM. Yes, sir, and he says he'll come and fetch the kids in +the morning--he won't on no account let them stay to see the show. + + [_General groan of indignation._ + +BARNEY. The like of him ain't fit to live! + +HARRY [_disgusted_]. Wot sort of chap do you call that! + +JERRY. Can't we do nothin' about it? + +PEPPER. Sure you did your best, Tim?--you didn't make him +mad, maybe? + +TIM. _Me?_ No, sir! But he was madder about the kids than he +was scared about them, I reckon. + +MIKE. An' does he think he desarves to get thim back, I'd +like to know? Let's kape thim ourselves! + +JACK. We need a couple of kids in the show. That Bub's a +sharp one! + +PEPPER. No, fellows--that won't do. Perhaps the mother's a +different kind. + + [_Enter_ BEN, _speaks to_ MIKE. _The rest listen._ + +BEN. Dey's jus' wore out, dose chillen--done fall ersleep +'fo' I got de blanket over dem. + +JERRY. I tell you what, fellows. That old flub of a farmer +won't get in very early--let's give 'em a show all to themselves. +What say? + +JACK. Bully scheme! + +MIKE. That's classy, that is! + +HARRY [_aside to_ JERRY]. S'pose the boss'll let us +do a stunt like that? Not on yer life! + +PEPPER. Very good idea, Barney. You'll have all morning for +it, sure. + + [_Troupe surprised and delighted. General + hum of pleasure._ + +PEPPER [_clearing his throat and hesitating a little_]. +Oh--a--a--I was going to say--these kids seem to have rather a slow +time of it. What do you fellows say we do it up brown--go the whole +figure and--well, a little Christmas won't hurt us, either. Let's +give them a Christmas Tree. I'll set up the fixin's for it! + + [_An instant's pause of utter amazement, then + a hubbub of enthusiasm and approval, interrupted + by_ BEN. + +BEN [_coming forward, raps on the mess-table and raises his +voice_]. Gen'lemen! I'd like to offer de resolution dat we all gib +t'ree cheers fo' Mr. Pepper! + + [_Cheers given with a will._ + + +CURTAIN + + +ACT II + +TIME: _Christmas morning._ + +SCENE: _Same as Act I. During first part of scene, the troupe, all +but_ PEPPER _and_ TIM, _are very busy arranging tent for their +special performance._ BARNEY _and_ DUTCH _move mess-table to [R.], +cover it with red cloth, and set two boxes upon it as seats for the +guests of honor._ BEN _and_ JERRY _bring in a gymnasium mattress and +a small low platform, which they arrange [Center], covering it with a +bright-colored cloth._ HARRY, JACK, _and_ MIKE _set soap-boxes with +boards for seats at back of stage._ + +BARNEY. Did yez iver see annything loike the change in the +Boss? + +BEN. I jes' lay awake half de night studyin' 'bout it. + +JERRY. I tell you, he's just treatin' those two kids white, +he is. + +JACK. First time ever, for _him_. + +MIKE. I'm just shtruck doomb, I am. Says I to meself, says +I, "There's magic in ut." + +DUTCH. Nein,--it's dot little Christmas Tree vot doos ut. + +HARRY. Well, h'anyway, 'e's h'evidently 'ad a change of +'eart. 'Ow's the kids this morning? + +BEN. Fine as silk! I war expectin' to fin' 'em all tuckered +out, but not a bit of it, sir! Dey's sharp as persimmons. Don' seem +lak dey could a-walked all dat way widout no lift. + +BARNEY. Did yez tell them about the show, thin? + +DUTCH. Ve did, und dey're so oxzited dot it seem like dey'd +shump out o' deir shkins. + +JERRY. Have they heard of the tree? + +BEN. No. Mr. Pepper, he say, don' let on--keep dat fer er +s'prise. + +DUTCH. Und since deir folks iss such heathens--dey ain'd +t'inkin' 'bout noddings like dot. + +JACK. Hustle up--you talk too much. The kids' folks'll be +here after them if you don't get a move on. + +MIKE [_gazing with pride at the result of their labors_]. +It's a foine soight, sure. + +HARRY [_leading the way to the tent door_]. Come along, +fellows--it looks to me as 'ow we're ready. 'Oo'll be the 'erald an' +tell 'em we're comin'? + + [_Exeunt all but_ DUTCH. + +DUTCH [_goes to footlights and speaks to the piano_]. If der bant +vill blees be so kint und blay a chune fer der grant marsh! [_Exit. +After a moment enter_ DUTCH _and_ BEN _with the children_, SONNY +_hanging to_ BEN'S _hand and dancing with excitement. They are lifted +into place._] + +BEN. Now, den, honey, you-all's gwine to see der circus, +sho' 'nuff. + +DUTCH. So! Is you gomf'table? + + [_Exeunt_ BEN _and_ DUTCH. + +BUB. Oh, Sonny, we're goin' to have a circus all to +ourselves. + +SONNY. It's better than just comin' in like other folks, +isn't it, Bub? + +BUB. Oh, lots! I guess it's a sure enough Christmas, +too, Sonny. [_He rocks to and fro with delight. The piano plays a +gay, quick march, and the Circus enters, in procession, headed +by_ PEPPER _himself and ending with the dog. They march +several times around the stage, then take seats on the boards._ +DUTCH _suddenly catches up his tray, and goes about shouting +his wares, with a great air of being very busy._] + +DUTCH. Beanuts! Beanuts! Here's your fresh-roasted beanuts! +Bop-corn! Bop-corn und beanuts! + +JACK. How do you sell 'em, Dutch? + +DUTCH [_incensed_]. You tink I vould _sell_ dem on +_Christmas_? Vot you take me for, hein? Haf some--it's a bresunt. +[_Passes them about, and then takes up his stand (R. front) just +behind the boys._ PEPPER _steps forward and stands beside +the platform. Makes a fine sweeping bow to the boys._] + +PEPPER [_with his best professional manner_], Mr. Benjamin +Franklin Simpson and Mr. Daniel Webster Simpson, we have the great +honor to make you welcome to the most world-renowned, the most +marvelous single-ring circus upon the face of this Terrestrial +Globe--Pepper's Perennial Circus, so named because it never folds +its tents from season's end to season's end. I, Gentlemen, am Peter +Piper Pepper, the fortunate proprietor of this colossal assemblage +of artists. The members of my Company have desired the honor of +being presented to you personally before they exhibit to you their +unparalleled skill. It gratifies me exceedingly to comply with this +wish. [_Steps to side of platform and motions to troupe. As he calls +them by name they step forward and bow, with flourishes._] Gentlemen, +allow me to present to you the distinguished, the glorious Signor +Frencelli, and Signor Cocodilla, who have charmed the crowned heads +of Europe. [_The clowns come forward and bow._] + +DUTCH [_sotto voce to the boys_]. Deir names is Barney +O'Brien und Jerry Pickle, but dot vouldn't do for der bosters. +[_Clowns sit down._] + +PEPPER. Gentlemen, you see before you the world-renowned +Marco Brothers, known from the frozen North to the sunny South, for +their skill and ability in acrobatic feats. One of them also is a +famous bareback rider and performer of feats of equestrian valor. He +has a further talent of which you will be given an example a little +later. + + [HOPKINS _and_ LIMBER JACK _make their bows._ + +DUTCH. Dot's Harry Hopkins, und de big feller is Limber +Jack. Dey yust bass for brudders. + +PEPPER. Now, Gentlemen, our show has the distinction of +possessing the great Mr. Barlow, the only native African minstrel +upon any stage. Mr. Barlow is a prince in his own country, and indeed +we esteem him a prince in whatever sphere he may adorn. + +DUTCH. Dot's Ben Chackson, und he ain't crossed no vater +vider dan der riffer. [_Makes a face._] But ve makes it up to der +peoples vat pays for der seats. + +PEPPER. And now, Gentlemen, last, but not least we have the +noted, the justly celebrated Professor Wormwood, whose successful +methods of training the dog and the monkey until they are rendered +all but human, have been copied the world over. Professor Wormwood, +with his dog, Schneider, and his South American monkey, Jocko. + + [MIKE _steps upon the stage with the dog and + monkey, makes his bow, and admonishes + them to do the same._ + +DUTCH. Dot's Mike McGinnis. + +BUB. Have the dog and the monkey got some other names, too? + +DUTCH. No,--dey don' need dem. + +PEPPER. Gentlemen, our little entertainment is now about +to begin. Professor Wormwood will give an exhibition of his clever +animals. + + [_As each is called upon to do some little + "stunt," he bows elaborately, and does + whatever he has to do with a great deal of + professional air, then returns to his place, + as before. The little boys, after_ DUTCH'S + _suggestion, applaud vigorously, and the + rest of the troupe look on at each other's + "acts" with condescending approval. + These are given in the following order._ + + 1. Professor Wormwood and his animals. + 2. Frencelli and Cocodilla in juggling feats. + 3. Mr. Barlow, the minstrel, in a darkey story. + 4. Limber Jack in acrobatic exercises. + 5. Marco Brothers, Indian clubs. + 6. Harry Hopkins (a) gives an exhibition of bareback riding. + (b) as Mademoiselle Zarah, dances. + 7. Song. Mademoiselle Zarah and Troupe. + + [MIKE _puts the animals through a number of + tricks._ + +DUTCH [_to the boys_]. Abplaud! Abplaud! + +BUB [_puzzled_]. What? + +DUTCH [_clapping hands_]. Abplaud! Dey mus' have abplowse! + + [_While the animals are performing, the + canvas parts (R. front). Enter_ FARMER + SIMPSON, _unnoticed by anyone save_ + DUTCH, _who watches him at first uncomprehendingly, + then with suspicion. The + farmer looks about in horror, craning his + neck to see all that is going on. Shakes + his fist at the Ringmaster, sees the children, + and makes as if to grab them._ DUTCH + _interposes his body with determination._ + +DUTCH [_sotto voce, but decidedly_]. Vot you t'ink you +do--hein? + +FARMER. You gi'me those children! + +DUTCH. You vaits. You don' gotta take 'em yet. + +FARMER. They're mine and I've come to git 'em. + +DUTCH. You is deir vater, hein? All right; you vaits. +Shoost sit down und look at der show. [_Shoves him down forcibly +on a convenient box or keg, then carefully stands between him and +the boys. Children shout and applaud the animals. Farmer watches at +intervals, and during each turn he rises as if to protest, and is +emphatically set down by_ DUTCH. _His resistance is more and +more feeble each time, and his interest in the performers visibly +increases, until at the end he actually stands looking open-mouthed +over_ DUTCH'S _shoulder, even betrayed into applause. When +he catches himself clapping, however, he stops short and clasps his +hands behind his back._ PROFESSOR WORMWOOD _finally bows +himself off._] + +PETER. I have the honor to announce Signor Frencelli and +Signor Cocodilla in their great act. + + [_Clowns come forward and bow, do juggling + tricks, etc. Same business for the rest._ + +SONNY. Oh, Bub, I think our dad would like this, don't you? + +BUB. I reckon he would, if he'd just ever come and see it. + + [_Clowns bow themselves off._ + +PETER. Gentlemen, the famous Mr. Barlow will now entertain +you. + + [_Minstrel tells a darkey story._ + +BUB. Don't you wish he'd come and live at the farm, Sonny? + +SONNY. Yes, I do. S'pose he would? + + [_Minstrel bows and sits down. All applaud._ + +PETER. Now, Gentlemen, one of the Marco Brothers will show +his marvelous strength and agility. + + [LIMBER JACK _turns flip-flaps, etc. Presently_ + HARRY _steps forward and they swing Indian + clubs, gayly decorated, to music. + Then_ LIMBER JACK _takes his seat, and_ + HOPKINS _takes the stage alone._ + +HARRY. Yer honors, I 'eartily regret that I cannot this +morning give a h'exhibition of my famous bareback riding h'exploits, +h'owing to the fact of our 'orses being h'otherwise h'occupied---- +[_confidentially_] a-h'eating their h'oats, ye know. But, h'anyway, I +can make the h'attempt to show you 'ow it is done, with a h'imaginary +'orse. 'Ere, Mr. h'O'Brien, will you kindly h'assist me? + + [BARNEY _brings a chair without a back, and_ + HARRY, _after pretending to quiet a mettlesome + steed, mounts, and goes through all + the motions of dashing about the ring bareback. + He wears an intensely serious look, + fixing his eyes as it were upon the horse's + ears, cheering him on, leaping off and on, + standing lightly on one toe, etc. The + Ringmaster watches and cracks his whip, + the music plays a light and quick air, the + whole troupe rise and watch breathlessly, + bending in time to the music as if in time + to a galloping horse._ JERRY _comes forward + with a wand, and_ HARRY _leaps over + it. Then_ BARNEY _brings a hoop, wound + in gay colors, or covered with tissue paper, + and_ HARRY _springs through it. This is + his culminating feat, and now the horse + apparently slows down and stops_, HARRY + _leaping off and making a low bow toward + the seats of honor._ + +BUB [_applauding wildly_]. Why, I could almost see the horse! + + [HARRY _retires to back of stage, and makes + a quick change in full view of the audience, + to a ballet skirt and a yellow wig. + The clowns assist him to dress, hooking + him up behind, and holding a mirror for + the proper adjustment of the wig, etc._ + +PETER. Gentlemen, having shown you his prowess as a bareback +rider, Signor Marco will now be introduced to you in a new light. +Our traveling arrangements being somewhat--ahem!--circumscribed, we +have never been able to carry any of the fair sex with us upon our +tours. Believe me, Gentlemen, such is the surpassing genius of Signor +Marco that we have never felt the need of ladies, as I am sure you +will agree. [HARRY _now comes forward with mincing steps and +a coy smile._] Gentlemen, allow me to present to you the celebrated +artist, the far-famed and charming Mademoiselle Zarah! [_The troupe +all bow with great enthusiasm to the transformed_ HARRY, +_who courtesies and smiles with all professional airs and graces. +The music strikes up, and_ ZARAH _dances. When the dance is +ended_, ZARAH _bows again, and goes through the motions of +catching bouquets from the troupe or audience._] + +PETER. Mademoiselle Zarah, assisted by the whole troupe, +will now favor us with a song. + + [_Popular song, adapted to the occasion by the + use of Christmas words. The boys applaud + long and loudly; the troupe, after + making a general farewell bow, break ranks + and gather around them._ JERRY _and_ + BARNEY _remove platform._ + +SONNY. I'd like to go to a circus every day. + +BUB. Don't I wish I could! Well, it's a fine Christmas +present, anyway. + +PETER. Did you like it? + +BUB _and_ SONNY. Oh, _did_ we! + +BUB. It was just right! + +PETER. Can you think of anything that would be an +improvement--for a Christmas celebration, you know? + +BUB [_embarrassed_]. Well, Mr. Pepper--you see--we've always +heard the other children telling about Christmas--and Christmas +Trees--and we did wish we could see one. This is next best, you +know--but we did wish we could see a tree. + +PEPPER [_nods to clowns_]. Well,--I'm not Herman--nor yet +old Santa Claus, but I guess I can do _this_ trick. [_Waves his whip, +and the two clowns suddenly throw back the canvas (back Center) and +disclose a small tree, lighted and raised high, framed by the sides +of the tent._] + +BUB [_claps his hands_]. Oh, is _that_ what a Christmas Tree +looks like! + +SONNY. Oh, Bub, let's go and see it. [_They slip down from +their places and slowly approach the tree. Farmer makes as if to +seize them._] + +DUTCH [_catching his arm_]. No, sir,--you vaits shtill +longer a leetle bit! + +SONNY. Oh, Bub, look at all the pretty shiny things. + +BUB. And candy, Sonny, and toys, and the star on top! [_The +men fairly swell with pride._] + +BARNEY. Sure it's the best I iver did see, for a small one. + +JERRY. Makes me feel like a kid myself--we always had 'em +every year. + +MIKE. It joost warms the very cockles of me heart. + +HARRY. I'd 'ave you look at their faces--they're 'appy, all +right. It 'as the circus beat h'all 'ollow for them. + +JACK. Between the two, they'll not forget _this_ Christmas! + +BEN [_leaning over the children_]. Look at all dem C'ris'mas +gif's, honey! Dey's every las' one fer you. + +BUB [_disappointed_]. Not anything for anybody else? + +SONNY. Not nothing for Ben? I likes Ben! + +BUB. And Dutch, and everybody? [_The men are confused at +this turn of affairs._] Only for us? Why, we thought Christmas trees +were for everybody. And they've all been so good to us! + +PETER [_throwing himself into the breach_]. No, that's a big +mistake, boys! There _is_ something on that tree for them--something +that says every man in this here show gets a whole week's wages for a +Christmas present, and then he can get what he wants most! + + [_A moment's silence, then there is a great + clapping of hands, and slapping of each + other's shoulders, and all press forward + and shake hands gratefully with_ PETER. + +DUTCH [_to Farmer_]. Vot I tells you? No maitter how shtrict +you goes for to be [_slowly, and with emphasis_], you cain't kills +Christmas! Yust look at der liddle tree! Laist night ve all vas reddy +to cut somebody's t'roat, und dis mornin'--Bresto! Shangch!--ve're de +pest frien's efer. It's der Kinder, und der Tree, und Christmas! I +tells you, der ain'd noddings like Christmas der whole vorld rount! + + [_The Farmer, who has been unbending gradually, + at last nods in hearty acquiescence. + Music strikes up, and all sing "Christmas + Song."_ BUB _and_ SONNY, _unmolested, + climb up to examine the little tree._ + +[Music: CHRISTMAS SONG[31]] + +[Footnote 31: Courtesy of Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Company.] + +FRANK E. SAVILE. + + 1. The Christmas chimes are ringing out, + Across the valleys sounding clear, + And as the echoes float about, + Tell of peace and Christmas cheer, + With joyous voices bless the day, + And with sounds of merry cheer, + Let us all keep holiday + For Christmas comes but once a year. + + 2. Old Christmas comes with merry train, + Bringing joy and mirth again; + The chimes ring out the glad refrain, + "Peace on earth, good will to men." + Be many Christmas days in store, + May no sorrow soon befall; + To young and old, to rich and poor, + A merry Christmas to you all. + + +CURTAIN + + +NOTES ON COSTUME, SETTING, AND PRESENTATION + +COSTUMES + +PEPPER. Scarlet coat, khaki trousers, high black boots. Silk +hat. He wears a mustache, and carries a long whip with a scarlet bow. + +ACROBATS. (Hopkins and Limber Jack.) Long stockings, puffed +trunks, and running-shirt, or undershirt, dyed to match. White +bathing-shoes, or "sneakers." Any colors may be used. Light blue for +Jack, and yellow for Hopkins are effective. Hopkins's ballet dress is +made of innumerable skirts of white tarletan, sewed to a low-necked +and short-sleeved waist of same material as his trunks, bespangled +with tinsel. This should be carefully put together and equipped with +buttons and button-holes, to slip on over the acrobat's clothes, so +that Hopkins's "lightning change" can really be made in the least +possible time. Woman's light yellow wig (or, if the boy is fair, a +dark wig), dressed in the extreme of style. + +CLOWNS. Pierrot costumes. White with red spots, and yellow +with blue. Faces whitened with the usual red marks. Heads bald and +white. White soft Pierrot hats. They may provide themselves with +"slapsticks," and other properties incidental to their tricks and +jokes. + +MINSTREL. Usual minstrel make-up. Black-face, large +collar, gaudy tie and vest. Flowered or large-checked trousers and +dress-coat. + +DUTCH. Khaki hat and trousers, shirt-sleeves, velvet vest, +stuffed to make him very rotund. Should be a short, roly-poly boy. He +carries by a strap over his shoulders a tray with bags of peanuts, +rolls of popcorn, etc. (Which will probably need to be kept under +lock and key until time for its use.) + +ANIMAL-TRAINER. Dress suit and silk hat. Carries a +riding-whip. + +TIM. Red flannel shirt, old trousers, very old felt hat, +boots. May double with + +FARMER SIMPSON. Old overcoat and straw hat. Red hair and +chin beard. + +DOG _and_ MONKEY. It is best to rent these costumes +from a costumer, though, if preferred, close-fitting suits of brown +and black canton flannel, with long tails, may be made, and the heads +only, rented. Chain for monkey, leash for dog. + +BUB _and_ SONNY. Overalls, sneakers, and big straw +farm hats. + +SETTING + +TENT. A most effective circus-tent can be made by fastening +strips of unbleached muslin above the stage-arch, and sloping them +down to a wire stretched five feet above floor at back of stage, then +dropping straight to floor. Back the entrances to the other tents +with more canvas, to represent a straight-sided passage. + +THE CIRCUS PERFORMANCE + +A great deal of liberty may be allowed here. This play having been +written for a boys' club, the boys were intrusted with the duty of +working up the individual "acts," which they did very successfully, +with a little oversight and revision from those in charge. + +The tricks by the Dog and Monkey were seesawing, boxing with gloves, +dancing, fighting a duel, etc., etc. + +The Clowns introduced an "elephant walk," a race, juggling with +balls, and other tricks. + +The Minstrel collected the latest and snappiest stories he could +find, and told them with zest. + +The boys' own list of acrobatic feats, which will be understood by +boys doing work in a gymnasium, was as follows: + + 1. Roll. Back and forth. + 2. Roll and frog leap. + 3. Short dive. + 4. Long dive. + 5. High dive. + 6. High dive over man. + 7. Weight-lifting. + 8. Two-man dive. + 9. Double roll. + 10. Pyramid. + +They also included turning flip-flaps, walking on the hands, swinging +clubs, etc. The Pyramid, at the end, was formed by the whole troupe, +on hands and knees, the lightest boys on top, and at a given signal +all fell flat on the mattress. + +The bareback riding of Hopkins and the dance of Zarah are fully +described in the text. + +MUSIC + +A good two-step, rapidly played, will serve for the galloping horse, +and Zarah can adapt herself to any modern dance-music. + +For this play a carol or hymn is not appropriate, but rather a jolly +song embodying the idea of "Christmas comes but once a year." + + + + +MINTY-MALVINY'S SANTA CLAUS + +PLAY IN ONE ACT + + +CHARACTERS + + HENRI LEBRETON. + ALPHONSE, his mulatto servant. + LAURA COURVOISIER, his sister. + LOUISE } + ANNETTE } Her children. + PHILIP } + MINTY-MALVINY, a pickaninny. + + +MINTY-MALVINY'S SANTA CLAUS + +Adapted from the story in _Wide Awake_ by M.E.M. Davis.[32] + +[Footnote 32: Used by courtesy of Colonel Thomas E. Davis.] + +TIME: _Christmas Eve and Christmas morning._ + +SCENE: LEBRETON'S _room in_ MADAME +CLEMENTINE'S _handsome lodging-house in the Rue Bourbon, New +Orleans._ + + NOTE.--The curtain falls for a moment, during the + play, to indicate the passing of Christmas Eve and the + coming of Christmas Day. + +_Curtain rises showing a comfortable room, strewn with a bachelor's +possessions. [R.] a fireplace[33] with wood fire, brass dogs, a large +armchair, and footstool on the hearth-rug. [L.], curtain indicates +an alcove with a bed. Near curtain, an old-fashioned low-boy with +toilet articles before the mirror,--military brushes, cologne, etc., +etc. Lighted candles here, and also on each side of gilt mirror above +mantel. Shaded lamp on center table, littered with books, papers, +a box of cigars, ash-tray, etc._ LEBRETON _seated in the +easy-chair._ LAURA _leaning over the back._ + +[Footnote 33: See note on Fireplace, p. 313.] + + +LAURA [_affectionately stroking her brother's hair_]. Oh, +Henri, you can't guess how good it is to be at home again! + +LEB. Oh, yes, I can! What do you suppose it has meant to me +to have you and Louis and the children wandering over the face of +the earth all these months? I've been a lost soul without you, and +your home to go to. + +LAURA. Traveling's all very nice and interesting, but it +does pall! I grew tired to death of it--I just pined to come home +again, Henri. [_Sits on arm of chair._] + +LEB. And here you are at last, in time to save your poor old +brother from utter desolation at Christmas time. + +LAURA. Oh, but I wish the house had been ready for us--it +hardly feels like Christmas anywhere but in the dear old place. But +Louis said it wouldn't do to hurry the workmen too much. + +LEB. No--they'd only make a botch of it. But you are +comfortable here, aren't you? + +LAURA. Yes, indeed--you've taken such nice rooms for us, +Henri. It's just the sentiment of it, you know, and I oughtn't have +spoken. And Madame Clementine does everything to make us feel at home +and comfortable. + +LEB. How about the service--are the maids attentive, Laura? + +LAURA. Ask such a question about darkies just before +Christmas? Henri, you are a dear old silly! Of course they are. And +so many of them--I see a new one to provide with a "C'ris'mus gif'" +every day, I think. To-day I noticed another--not exactly a maid, +that is, but a funny little oddity of a pickaninny who seems to live +just to "fotch an' carry." + +LEB. Yes, I've seen that little monkey--does she really +belong here? + +LAURA. I'm not sure--I must ask Madame Clementine about +her.... Henri, if we are to make that call, I must get my things at +once. + +LEB. This is so cozy--do you think you _must_ rout me out? + +LAURA. Poor dear, his conscience has come home again! +[_Rises._] Yes, I think we really ought. I've been at home three +days, you know, and the Percivals are such old friends, and Helen has +been ill---- [_Goes to door._] I'll only be a moment. + +LEB. [_going to ring bell_]. Very well, Madame, I'm at your +service. If you are my conscience, sis, you certainly manage to +sweeten my duty. + +LAURA [_laughing_]. That's just your flattery! + + [_Exit._ LEBRETON _goes to find gloves. Enter_ + ALPHONSE. + +ALPH. Did you ring, M'sieu Henri? + +LEB. Yes. Get me my coat, Alphonse. Madame Courvoisier and I +are going out for a while. [ALPHONSE _brings coat and silk +hat, which he brushes, then helps_ LEBRETON _into coat._] +I shan't be late. [_Goes to door._] But maybe you've calls to make +yourself? [ALPHONSE _puts on a conscious smirk._] Well, you +needn't wait for me--Christmas Eve, you know. [_Exit, putting on +gloves._] + +ALPH. Thanks, M'sieu Henri. [_Looks about room, sees cane, +which he catches up and hurries after_ LEBRETON.] M'sieu +Henri! + + [_Exit._ MINTY-MALVINY _appears at door. + Looks cautiously after_ ALPHONSE. _Enters + and minces about._ + +M.-M. [_sings_]. + + De rabbit and de jaybird, dey fell out! + Walk jes' so! + De possum and de coon dey want ter know what erbout. + Walk jes' so! + +[_Goes to window and looks out._] Hit am plumb dark! Old Santa +Claus mus' be a-hitchin' up dem plow-mules o' hisn by dis time. +My lan'! de white folks is havin' er good time, I 'low! [_Goes to +fire and sits on a stool._] Dem dolls, an' dem doll cheers, an' +dem rollin'-pins in de show-winders is mighty fine. [_Sighs, and +continues meditatively._] Pow'ful scrumptious dey was! Dass de kin' +o' C'ris'mus gif' whar ole Santa Claus gwine ter fotch ter all de +white chillen in dis yer town in de mawnin'! Santa Claus ain't got +no 'quaintance wid niggers, dat I knows on--lessen it am niggers on +de sugar-plantations;--he ain't never hearn tell o' town niggers. My +lan', whyn't de Lawd mek me white whilse He 'uz about it! Hit mus' be +jes' ez easy fer de Lawd ter mek er white chile ez er black chile! +[_Rests her head disconsolately on her knees for a moment. Suddenly, +as a great idea dawns upon her, she lifts her head and claps her +hands._] Hi! I got it! [_Springs to her feet and begins to dance a +double-shuffle with all her might, shouting._] Sho's you bawn, I'ze +gwine ter do it! I'ze gwine ter mek m'se'f er white chile! I'ze gwine +ter do it, sho'! + + [_In the midst of her wild dance_, ALPHONSE + _appears in doorway, and stands transfixed + with horror._ + +ALPH. [_furiously_]. Bête! Wat you do here, in M'sieu Henri +LeBreton's room? Ah'm a-goin' to _keel_ you! [_He darts after, and +they dash about the room at top speed_, MINTY-MALVINY _always just +out of his reach._] + +M.-M. I ain' 'fraid o' no French nigger lak you! [_She leads him a +dance, but finally rushes out at door._ ALPHONSE _recovers +his dignity, and goes to attend to fire._ MINTY-MALVINY +_appears before door again, walking up and down with mincing steps +and singing with a meaning air._] + +M.-M. + + De yallergater ax fer de jack-o'lantern's light, + Walk jes' so! + Fer to go ter see his gal thoo' de swamp in de night, + Walk jes' so! + + [ALPHONSE _listens, rattles irons angrily, then + runs to door with poker in hand._ MINTY-MALVINY + _promptly takes to her heels._ + +ALPH. "Walk jes' so!" An' if you don't walk jes' so, I'll show you +how, _gamine_! [_Goes about arranging room for the night. Lays_ +LEBRETON'S _dressing-gown and slippers by the fire, puts out candles +on mantel, then goes to dresser, where he pauses to admire himself._ +MINTY-MALVINY _slips in, a small brown paper bag in one hand and a +very ragged stocking in the other. She hides behind the easy-chair, +but manages to keep a sharp eye on_ ALPHONSE, _with scornful mouth, +for his vanity._ ALPHONSE _struts complacently before the glass, +moistens his handkerchief with his master's cologne, puts out the +candles, goes to table, where he helps himself to the cigars, puts +out light, and exit._ MINTY-MALVINY _comes out from hiding-place, +makes sure he is really gone, and relights candles._] + +M.-M. [_with deep scorn_]. Dar! I knowed dat French nigger 'u'd +steal! I gwine ter tell on him in de mawnin' de minit I get er +chance. [_Sits down on her heels before the fire, screwing up her +mouth and chuckling with glee._] Now, now, I'ze gwine ter mek myse'f +inter er white chile. [_Opens bag in which she carries a dab of +flour, with which she proceeds to powder her face as liberally as +the bag allows. Then she produces the stocking and examines it with +care._] Co'se hit's holey, but den Santa Claus kin stuff er gob +er candy er sumpn in de toe-hole, an' er bannanner, er o'ange, in +de heel-hole, and some reesins er a'mon's in de res' o' de holes. +[_She gets up to hang the stocking._] Hump! dis is sump'n lak a +chimbly, dis is! Santa Claus ain' gwine ter hu't hisse'f comin' +down a stovepipe. Some white folks is funny. [_She catches sight of +herself in the mirror above the mantel._] My lan'! Kingdom come! I +is tu'ned inter er white chile, sho'! An' ole Santa Claus gwine ter +be fooled, sho' as I is er nigger!... Now I gwine ter scrooch down +on de rug hyar an' watch. [_Settles herself comfortably._] I gwine +ter hol' my eyes open [_yawns aloud_] ontwel I see ole Santa Claus +crope down dis yer chimbly. Den I gwine ter ax him howdy, an' den I +gwine ter p'int out what I bleedge ter hev fer C'ris'mus. Ca'se I +ain' gwine ter be er white chile fer nuffin. [_This with some energy, +but she grows more and more drowsy._] I gwine ter ax fer er wax +doll lak whar in der show-winder, an' er cheer, an' er cradle---- +[MINTY-MALVINY _falls asleep._] + + [_After a moment, enter_ LEBRETON, _quietly. + Turns on light, goes to dresser, sets down + hat, and drawing off gloves, tosses them + into it. Crosses to fire, and sees_ MINTY-MALVINY. + _Stirs her gently with his foot._ + +LEB. [_not unkindly_]. Here, you little imp, get up! What +are you doing here? Who are you, anyway? + +M.-M. [_springing to her feet, then falling on her knees on the +rug_]. I ax you howdy, Mister Santa Claus! I hope you's feelin' +pretty peart? + +LEB. [_to himself_]. Oh, Mister Santa Claus, am I? + +M.-M. [_hurriedly_]. I'ze name Mint--I'ze er white chile, Mister +Santa Claus, an' I'ze name Miss Ann. I'ze er white chile sho's you +bawn, Mister Santa Claus! + +LEB. [_laughing_]. Oh, are you? And your name is Miss Ann? + +M.-M. [_with assurance_]. Yes-sir. Law, Marse Santa Claus [_laughs +hysterically and rocks herself back and forth on her knees_], I'ze +mos' sho' dat I seed you clammin' down de chimbly jes' now! An' I has +been settin' up all night jes' ter ax yer howdy, an' ter ax yer ter +fotch me er gre't big wax doll lak whar in der show-winder, an' er +cheer, an' er cradle, an' some cups an' sassers wid blue on de aidge +lak whar ole Mis' had on de sugar-plantation whar me an' Mammy come +f'um. An' dat stockin' whar I is done hung up, hit am pow'ful holey, +I knows. But I ain't got no Mammy ter men' it, an' ef er gob er candy +wuz in de toe-hole, an' er o'ange in de heel-hole,--oh, Mister Santa +Claus, Marse Santa Claus, I is er white chile! Cross my heart, I +is! [_Bursts into tears, as_ LEBRETON _takes hold of the +stocking and looks it over, trying hard to restrain his laughter._] +Oh, Marse Santa Claus! [_Wails._] You is knowed all de time dat I wuz +lyin'! I ain't nuffin but er good-fer-nuffin li'l' black nigger whar +is name Minty-Malviny. + +LEB. [_almost overcome with laughter_]. Now I am surprised! + +M.-M. An' I ain' fitten fer ter hev no C'ris'mus gif'. + +LEB. Hush! [_Takes off his light coat, pushes her down on +the rug, and throws the coat over her._] Lie down and go to sleep. +[_With mock sternness._] If you're not asleep within two minutes, +I'll---- [_His threat ends in a growl._] + + [MINTY-MALVINY _sobs for a moment or two, + but quickly falls asleep, breathing deeply + and quietly._ LEBRETON _comes forward + and stands perplexed._ + +LEB. Well, I reckon Santa Claus will have to call for help. +Laura can't have gone to bed yet.... I'll get her. [_Exit, returning +almost at once with_ LAURA.] That's good! Come in a moment. + +LAURA [_anxiously_]. Oh, Henri, what is it? + +LEB. [_laughing_]. A trifle! [_Puts his hand on her +shoulder._] My pack has given out, and I'm 'bleeged to have a big wax +doll, like whar in de show-winder, and a cheer, and some dishes, lak +ole Miss's on de plantation; and all for a 'spectable young cullud +pusson named Minty-Malviny! + +LAURA [_mystified_]. Henri! I don't understand. + +LEB. No, but you will in a moment. See what I found when +I came in. [_Leads her over to rug, lifts corner of coat, and +discloses_ MINTY-MALVINY _fast asleep._] Isn't this your +little waif, Laura? + +LAURA. Yes. But what in the world has she been doing to +herself? + +LEB. Sh-sh! Don't waken her! [_They speak in lowered +voices._] Why, she was waiting for Santa Claus, and her past +experience of the old gentleman's impartiality seems to be +responsible for an experiment. Anyway, she popped up and assured me +that she was er white chile sho's I was bawn, and her name was Miss +Ann. But it stuck in her throat---- + +LAURA [_laughing_]. No wonder! + +LEB. And she presently broke down and wailed that she warn't +fitten ter hev no Christmas gift. Now, do you suppose you can find +anything for her? + +LAURA. Certainly I can, poor little soul. Such a lot of +things have come--ever so much more than the children need. I'll look +them over. [_Going._] + +LEB. Wait a minute--have you any fruit in your rooms? + +LAURA. Yes--a whole dish. I'll bring it. [_Exit._] + +LEB. [_rummaging about on dresser_]. Er gob er candy fer +de toe-hole. Ah--this will do nicely. [_Finds box of candy. Enter_ +LAURA _with fruit._] + +LAURA. Here, Henri, fill her stocking with these. I'll get +some toys. [_Exit._ LEBRETON _takes dish, and sits down to +fill stocking._] + +LEB. [_working busily_]. Er gob er candy--there, that's it. An' er +o'ange fer the heel-hole. Good! Here are the nuts an' reesins for all +the other holes--and bananas for the leg! [_Enter_ LAURA. LEBRETON +_holds up stocking proudly for her inspection._] There! I flatter +myself I'm good at the business, though you may say that that leg is +hardly as fat as Minty-Malviny's own. + + [LAURA _laughs approval, and busies herself + arranging doll in armchair, with other + toys about her._ LEBRETON _tries to hang + stocking._ + +LEB. Oh, hang it! + +LAURA. What, the stocking? + +LEB. Yes--no--yes, that's exactly what I can't do! Come and +help me, will you? [_They struggle with it together, making some +noise._] + +LAURA. Hush, Santa Claus, you'll wake her! [_The stocking +is hung, the toys arranged, they stand surveying the display, and +putting last touches._] + +LEB. Oh, Laura, this is gorgeous! But you mustn't be too +generous. + +LAURA. Nonsense, the children will never miss them. [_They +stand looking down at the coat._ LAURA _lifts the edge and +kneels beside_ MINTY-MALVINY.] She's too funny--poor little +monkey! Oh, Henri, when we are back in our own home, I should like to +take this poor little neglected thing and give her a home and look +after her a little. Do you suppose I could? + +LEB. I don't see what's to prevent. She looks perfectly +friendless. [_They rise and go to door._] + +LAURA. You are a good heart, Henri. + +LEB. The good heart is yours! I'm Marse Santa Claus--and I intend +to put Minty-Malviny in your stocking! [_Both laugh heartily, but +quietly, and exchange good nights._ LAURA _goes._ LEBRETON _comes +back, standing at table a moment._] + +LEB. I believe I rather envy the old gentleman! [_Puts out +light and goes towards alcove, his dressing gown thrown over his +arm._] + + [_Curtains are drawn for a moment, to indicate + the passing of the night. When they open, + daylight has come, the fire is dim_, MINTY-MALVINY + _is waking._ + +M.-M. [_catching sight of toys, as she sits up and stretches_]. +Ow! Wow! Wow! [_She fairly yells, beside herself with joy._] Ole +Santa Claus done come down de chimbly sho' 'nuff, lak I seed him! +An' he done fotch me er wax doll, an' er set o' dishes, same ez ef +I wuz er white chile! Oh, Lawdy, Lawdy, Lawdy! [_Jumps up and gets +down stocking, feeling it, and peering through the holes._] Er gob +er candy in de toe-hole, and er o'ange in de heel-hole. [_Pauses +suddenly, her arm thrust into the stocking._] Lawd, I is glad I didn' +try ter stick ter dat lie about bein' er white chile whar name Miss +Ann! [_Continues her ecstatic rummaging._] My lan'! I jes' ez lief be +er nigger ez er white chile! An' er heap liefer! + + [_Enter_ ALPHONSE, _with an armful of firewood. + Stands horrified on the threshold, + then rushes forward._ + +ALPH. Ah-h-h-h! 'tite diablesse! va-t-en! I'm goin' to shake +the life out of you, singe! + + [_A boot whizzes past his ear, from the direction + of the alcove._ + +LEB. [_imperiously_]. Let her alone, you rascal! If you dare +to touch her I'll thrash you within an inch of your life! + +ALPH. [_obsequiously_]. Yaa-as, M'sieu Henri. + +M.-M. [_maliciously, half whispering_]. Walk jes' so! [_Makes a face +at_ ALPHONSE. _Aloud._] I'ze dat gemplum's nigger whar is +dar in de bade, an' I gwine he'p mek he fiah. [ALPHONSE +_goes viciously to work to make the fire, frustrating_ +MINTY-MALVINY'S _attempts when possible, snatching the poker +away from her, etc. She is exasperatingly pleasant and superior._] +You ain' bresh de hearf. [_He does so, and gathers up the rubbish +with one last grimace._] + +ALPH. [_at door_]. Singe! + + [_Exit._ + +M.-M. [_tossing her head and chuckling_]. Dat French nigger don' dass +say nuffin to me, no mo'! + + [_Enter_ LEBRETON _from alcove, tying the + cords of his dressing gown._ + +LEB. Good-morning, Minty-Malviny--Merry Christmas to you! + +M.-M. [_bobbing little courtesies to him_]. Mawnin', Marse +Henry--same to you, suh! [_Looks at him with puzzled +half-recognition, head on one side, like a bright little bird._] + +LEB. [_to himself, sitting near table_]. She's nearly sharp +enough to know me! [_To her._] Minty-Malviny, what are all those +things? Where did you get them? + +M.-M. [_diverted from her study, turns to the toys_]. 'Deed, Marse +Henry, I didn't _took_ 'em f'um nobody. Ole Santa Claus done come +down dis yer chimbly an' fotch 'em heself. + +LEB. You don't say so! How do you know he did? + +M.-M. Done saw him, Marse Henry. + +LEB. You did? Did he scare you? + +M.-M. Laws, no! I'ze erspectin' him, co'se, an' I jes' 'membered ma +manners an' ax him howdy, an' he gib me all dese gran' C'ris'mus +gif's. + +LEB. All those for _you_, Minty-Malviny? + +M.-M. [_coming closer_]. Yes, Marse Henry, I is some s'prised myse'f. +I didn't s'pose no li'l' nigger could hab no such gran' C'ris'mus--I +'lowed 'twar on'y fer de white folks. [_Squats near him, on the +floor, hugging her knees._] + +LEB. [_aside_], I 'low white folks do have the lion's share, +myself. [_To her._] See here, Minty-Malviny--where's your Mammy--who +owns you, anyway? + +M.-M. Laws, Marse Henry, ain' got no Mammy. She brung me in f'um ole +Mis's plantation, an' den she jes' up an' lef me. + +LEB. Who takes care of you? + +M.-M. [_with dignity_]. Takes cyah ob myse'f--don' need nobody to +min' _me_. + +LEB. Do you mean you earn your own living? + +M.-M. Co'se I does! I runs a'rons fo' Mam' Dilcey--dat's you-all's +cook--an' I does chores. An' Mam' Dilcey she treats me pretty +good--dat is, mos'ly. [_Rubs her ear reminiscently._] + +LEB. Where do you sleep? + +M.-M. Oh, mos' anywheres. [_Sidles nearer to him._] I lak yo' +hearf-rug fust-rate, Marse Henry. + +LEB. Oh, you do? [_Aside._] Part of the C'ris'mus gif', +I suppose. [_To her._] Well, Minty-Malviny, my sister, Mrs. +Courvoisier, is here now. In a few weeks she will be going to her own +home--a fine great house, with a big garden--more like your ole Mis's +plantation, you know. How would you like to go and live with her, and +wait on her, and help mind her baby? + +M.-M. Dat do soun' mighty scrumptious! But--Marse Henry---- [_looking +at him shyly from the corners of her eyes_] ef it's all er same to +_you_--I'd er heap druther be yo'r li'l' nigger. [_Suddenly turns and +kneels at his feet._] + +LEB. [_taken aback, turns away and walks down stage_]. +Well--this turn of affairs looks rather more like my sock than +Laura's stocking! [_Turns to her again._] But what about Alphonse? + +M.-M. [_with concentrated scorn_]. Dat French nigger! Why---- [_very +rapidly_] he cain't eben mek a fiah! + + [_There is a rush from the door. Enter the + children, followed by_ LAURA. _The children + throw themselves upon_ LEBRETON + _with enthusiastic shouts._ + +CHILDREN. Christmas gift, Uncle! Christmas gift! + +PHILIP. We caught you, we caught you! + +LAURA. Merry Christmas, Henri! + +LEB. I've no breath left to say Merry Christmas, you young bears! +[_Shakes them off, laughing._] Unhand me, villains! I want to tell +you something. There is somebody else here. Minty-Malviny, this is +my sister, Mrs. Courvoisier [MINTY-MALVINY _courtesies to them all, +with little bobs of her head_], and these are my nieces, Miss Louise +and Miss Annette. And here is my nephew, Master Philip Courvoisier. +[_Sits down, with_ PHILIP _on his knee._] Children, when you go home, +Minty-Malviny is going with you, to look after you, and play games, +and tell stories. + +PHILIP. Can she tell stories? Oh, goody! + +LOUISE [_aside_]. Oh, Mother, how ragged she is! + +ANNETTE. Goody! I like stories, too! + +LOUISE. Are those your Christmas presents? + +PHILIP. Was your stocking just awful full? + +ANNETTE. Just plumb full? Ours were. + +M.-M. Yes'm, hit sho'ly wuz! + +LOUISE. What nice things--did Santa Claus leave them for you? + +M.-M. Yes'm. Ole Santa Claus done brung 'em, an' I never 'lowed he'd +gib 'em to no pickaninny [_with lowered voice_], so I powd'ed myse'f +up an' let on lak I'ze er white chile! + +ANNETTE. You did! What fun! + +M.-M. An' den he come down dat chimbly an' seed me. + +PHILIP. Right down this chimney? [_Slips off_ +LEBRETON'S _knee, and runs to look up chimney._ +LEBRETON _rises and stands by_ LAURA.] + +M.-M. Sho's you bawn, honey! + +LOUISE. And you saw him? + +M.-M. 'Deed I did, Miss Louise. [_The children gather close, and_ +MINTY-MALVINY _tells her story with effective drops in her +voice, followed by sudden and startling crescendos._] When he crope +down dat chimbly, an' sot he eyes on me de fust time, he knowed +I wa'n't no white chile. Ca'ze he eyes uz big ez yo' maw's chiny +plates! But he didn' keer! He jes' up an' tuk dat wax doll, an' dem +dishes, an' dat cheer, an' dat table, an' dat cradle out'n de ba-ag +whar he had on he back, an' gun 'em ter me jes' de same ez ef I 'uz +white ez you-alls. But I mos' sho' dat he wouldn' er lef 'em, ner +stuff dat stockin' full er goodies, ef I'd er kep' on tellin' him dat +lie about bein' er white chile whar name Miss Ann! My lan' [_this +with an air of great virtue and pride_], I is glad ole Mis' l'arnt me +to tell de troof! + +PHILIP. What did Santa Claus look like? + +LOUISE. He brings us things, but we never saw him. + +ANNETTE. No, he always comes when we are asleep. + +M.-M. Wa-al, he 'uz sump'n lak yo' Unc' Henry, on'y not er leas' +mite gooder-lookin' dan Marse Henry, caze Marse Henry he de bestes' +gempm'n on dis yearth! But he 'uz sump'n lak yo' Unc' Henry. 'Cep'n +he's hade touch de top er de house! [_Makes a quick and startling +motion with her hand and rolls her eyes._] An' he voice big an' +deep, an' growly lak a gre't big b'ar. An' de foot he kicked me wif, +'uz big ez de kitchen stove. [_Resumes her ordinary voice._] Ya-as, +chillen, ef Marse Henry 'uz mo' bigger, an' mo' higher, he 'u'd look +jes' eszactly lak ole Mister Santa Claus! + + +CURTAIN + + +NOTES ON COSTUME AND PRESENTATION + +Ordinary modern costume. LeBreton should have an iron-gray beard. +Laura and her children daintily and attractively dressed. + +Alphonse, mulatto servant, very dandified and vain. + +Minty-Malviny, a black pickaninny, in rags and tatters, nondescript +and faded. Her wool braided into little pigtails tied with odd bits +of ribbon and string. + +LeBreton, Laura, and Alphonse, by adults. Laura's children, five to +nine years. Minty-Malviny, ten years old. This part could be played +by a boy. + +MUSIC. During the moment when the curtain is drawn for +the passing of the night, "Holy Night," or some other well-known +Christmas hymn, is very softly played off stage. LeBreton hums the +same air while filling the stocking, and moving about stage before +this interim. + + + + +THE HUNDRED + +A PLAY IN ONE ACT + + +CHARACTERS + + MRS. DARLING, a young and pretty widow. + MRS. BONNET, the lady's maid. + CATHERINE, the parlor maid. + MRS. MCGRATH, the cook. + SALLY, the kitchen maid. + TIBBIE, from the East Side. + + +THE HUNDRED + +Adapted from the story by Gertrude Hall.[34] + +[Footnote 34: Copyrighted, 1896, by Harper & Bros. Used by courtesy +of Miss Hall and Harper & Bros.] + + +TIME: _Christmas Eve._ + +SCENE: MRS. DARLING'S _dressing-room. Dressing-table, with elaborate +and glittering toilette articles, and a large and rather showy +photograph of the late_ MR. DARLING, _also a smaller one of_ MRS. +DARLING'S _cousin, the_ REVEREND DOREL GOODHUE. _R., an alcove hidden +by curtains, containing a couch on which repose The Hundred dolls. +Stage requires two entrances, one communicating with_ MRS. DARLING'S +_bedroom, the other with the rest of the house._ + + + [_Enter_ CATHERINE, _with two carriage wraps, + which she surveys critically._ + +CATHERINE [_sniffing at one of the wraps, with a sharp +glance at the bedroom door_]. Humph. If there's the merest smidgeon +of camphire about this, I'll hear from it! It's been airing 'most a +week, too. [_Lays them carefully on couch or chair, then stepping +softly, surveys the dressing-table and its appointments. Takes up +newspaper from chair, and glances over it while expressing her +sentiments._] I'll just take this down with me till it's called for. +What with Mr. Jackson the butler, and Sally the kitchen-maid always +going home nights, and Cook slippin' off to her bloomin' family every +chance she gets, it's likely to be lonesome for me this evening. +I'll be bound Mrs. Bonnet'll be off with some friend or other, the +minute Mrs. Darling's out of the house. Not that _her_ company's +over-pleasant. I'd rather stay alone any time. It's good luck for +every other soul in the house when Mrs. Darling dines out. But _I_ +never come in for the extras. + + [_Enter_ SALLY _with fur-lined carriage shoes, + which she places beside the wraps._ + +SALLY. Mrs. Darling wanted those warmed in the kitchen. I +sh'd think all these fur fixin's 'd be warm enough without no stove. + +CATHERINE [_sullenly_]. You going, too, I suppose? + +SALLY. Why, yes. Ain't I done everything? There's no need of +me staying, is there? + +CATHERINE. No, I don't suppose there is. I just thought you +might be, that's all. + +SALLY. Tell you what I'd like to do! + +CATHERINE. What'd you like to do, Sally? + +SALLY [_confidentially_]. That's to come back again after +I've been home for just a minute. + +CATHERINE [_looks up, unable to conceal her interest_]. You +don't mean just to oblige, do you, Sally? + +SALLY. Well, I'd do it in a minute, for nothing else beside, +but that ain't quite all I was thinking of, just this once. Miss +Catherine---- [_hesitates, then continues enthusiastically_] ----have +you seen 'em in there? The whole hundred of 'em laid out in the +alcove here. [_Draws back curtain a little, partly disclosing the +couch with an array of daintily dressed dolls. They pick up one or +two, and look them over admiringly._] I saw 'em last night when Mrs. +Bonnet she sent me up for the lamps to clean, and I've been thinkin' +about it ever since. Law! wouldn't any child like to see a sight +like that! There's a little girl in my tenement, she'd just go crazy. +Do you think there'd be any harm in it, if I was to bring her over +and let her get one peep? She's as clean a child as ever you saw. She +comes of dreadful poor folks, but just as respectable. She never seen +anything like it in her life. Law, what would I have done when I was +a young one, if I'd seen that? I'd thought I was dead and gone to +heaven. I say, Miss Catherine, do you think anybody'd mind? + +CATHERINE [_callously_]. How'll they know? Look here, Sally; +you go along as fast as you can, and fetch your young one. And when +you've got back, perhaps I'll step out a minute, two or three doors +up street, and you can answer the bell while I'm gone. Now hurry into +your things. I'll give you your car-fare. + +SALLY. Miss Catherine, you're just as good as you can be, +and I'll do something to oblige you, too, sometime. [_Exeunt._] + + [_Enter_ MRS. DARLING _from bedroom in evening + dress. Takes her cousin's photo from + dressing-table and holds it at arm's length._ + +MRS. DARLING. Well, sir, does your charming cousin reach +your standard of feminine appearance? Or is she still far from that +pinnacle of elegance to which she aspires? She should be perfect +indeed when she is to pose before the world as the highly-favored of +the distinguished Mr. Goodhue.... And all the time, I know perfectly +well that he prefers Quaker gowns, or hospital caps and aprons.... +Well, I'm not exactly a lily of the field, but when it comes to +Solomon in all his glory!... The morning papers will say so, at +least. "The Reverend Dorel Goodhue, accompanied by his cousin, Mrs. +Darling," _and_ so forth. Oh, sometimes I do grow so tired of it all! +It's such a farce!... Now, this won't do at all. The Reverend Dorel +Goodhue may preach to me on Sunday mornings, from a properly elevated +pulpit, in a proper and decorous and conventional manner, but---- +Just be kind enough to turn your reproachful face away, sir, and +let your cousin finish her prinking. [_Replaces photo face down._] +Bonnet, why don't you come and do my hair? + + [_Enter_ BONNET, _slowly waving a hot curling + iron._ + +BONNET. Yes, Mrs. Darling. + + [MRS. DARLING _sits before mirror beautifying + her finger-nails, while_ BONNET _curls + a few straggling locks of hair._ + +MRS. D. [_diligently polishing, murmurs_]. Mind what you are +about. + + [BONNET _removes tongs and catches the lock + with greater precaution._ + +MRS. D. [_louder, with a warning acid in her voice_]. Mind +what you are about! + + [BONNET _begins again, after a pause to make + firm her nerve, catching the hair with infinite + solicitude._ + +MRS. D. [_almost screams_]. Mind what you're about! Didn't I +_tell_ you to be careful? You've been pulling right along at the same +hair! _Do_ consider that it is a human scalp, and not a _wig_--you +are dealing with! Bonny, you're not a bad woman, but you will wear me +out. Come, go on with it; it's getting late. [_She turns the photo +face out once more, and after a moment, as if the sight of it made +her repent, she rolls up her eyes angelically to the reflection of_ +BONNET'S _face in the mirror._] Bonny, do you think that +black moiré of mine would make over nicely for you? I am going to +give it to you. No, don't thank me--it makes me look old. Now, my fur +shoes. + + [BONNET _brings the shoes and begins to struggle + with them._ + +MRS. D. [_bracing herself against_ BONNET'S +_efforts_]. I suppose--I suppose I have a very bad temper! [_Laughs +in a sensible, natural way._] Tell the truth, Bonny; if every +mistress had to have a certificate from her maid, you would give me a +pretty bad one, wouldn't you? But I was abominably brought up. I used +to slap my governesses. And I've had all sorts of illnesses; trouble, +too. And I mostly don't mean anything by it. It's just nerves. Poor +Bonny! I do treat you shamefully, don't I? + +BONNET [_expanding in the light of this uncommon +familiarity_]. Oh, ma'am, I would give you a character as would make +it no difficulty in you getting a first-class situation right away; +you may depend upon it, ma'am, I would. Don't this shoe seem a bit +tight, ma'am? + +MRS. D. Not at all. It's a whole size larger than the old +ones. If you would just be so good as to hold the shoe-horn properly. +There, that is it. [_Rises and stands surveying the two wraps._] +Which shall I wear? [BONNET _draws back for a critical view, +but dares not suggest unprompted._] The blue is prettier, but the +gray with ermine is more becoming. Oh, Bonny, decide for me quickly, +like a tossed-up penny! + +BONNET. Well, I think now I should say the blue one, ma'am. + +MRS. D. [_musing_]. Should you? But I look less well in +it. Surely I would rather look pretty myself than have my dress +look pretty, wouldn't I? Give me the gray, and hurry. Mr. Goodhue +will be here in a second.... Bonnet, you trying creature! Didn't +I _tell_ you to put a hook and eye in the neck of this? Didn't I +_tell_ you? _Where_ are your ears? _Where_ are your senses? What on +_earth_ do you spend your time thinking about, I should like to know, +anyway? I wouldn't wear that thing as it _is_, not for--not for---- +Oh, I'm tired of living surrounded by fools! Take it away--take it +away! Bring the other one.... Now, button my gloves. [_Looks at +herself in the glass, passively letting_ BONNET _take one +of her arms to button the glove. Murmurs._] Ouch! Go softly; you +pinch! [BONNET _changes her method, and pulls very gently. +Louder._] Ouch! You pinch me! [BONNET _stops short, looks +helplessly at the glove, casts up her eyes as if appealing to heaven, +then tries again._] + +MRS. D. [_screams_]. Ouch, ouch, ouch! You pinch like anything! I'm +black and blue! [_Tears her arm from the quaking_ BONNET, _fidgets +with the button, and pulls it off._] Bonnet, how many times must I +tell you to sew the buttons fast on my gloves before you give them to +me to put on?... No, they were not! [_Pulls off the glove and throws +it far across the room. A knock at the door._] + +MAN'S VOICE [_respectfully_]. Mr. Goodhue is below, ma'am. + +MRS. D. [_humbly, like a child reminded of its promise to +behave_]. Get another pair, and let me go. [_Tucks a final rose, or +bunch of violets into the bosom of her dress, turns to leave the +room, then pauses to draw back the curtains and look at the dolls. +Speaks gushingly._] Aren't they lovely, the hundred of them? Did you +ever see such a sight? One prettier than the other! I almost wish I +were one of the little girls, myself! + +BONNET. Them that gets them will be made happy, surely, +ma'am. I suppose it's for some Christmas Tree? + +MRS. D. They are for my cousin Dorel's Orphans. Pick up, +Bonny. Open the windows. Mind you tell Jackson to look at the +furnace. I shall not be very late--not later than twelve. [_Exit._] + + [BONNET _moves briskly about, straightening + the room, with no affectation of soft-stepping. + She digresses from her labors + to get a black skirt from the bedroom, + which she examines critically, then replaces. + A knock._ + +MAN'S VOICE [_only a shade less respectful than before_]. +Miss Pittock is waiting below, ma'am. + +BONNET. Very well, I'll be down directly. [_Exit, and +re-enter at once with a rather old-fashioned cloak and bonnet, which +she dons before the glass._] I hope I haven't kept Miss Pittock +waiting. [_Looks contemptuously at her wrap._] _She_ looks quite +more than the lady in her mistress's last year's cape. They say the +shops is a sight to behold this year--I haven't a minute to get a +look at them myself--and it do seem as if people made more to-do +about Christmas than they used. I wonder what kind of shops Miss +Pittock'll fancy most. I'd rather see the show-windows in the Grand +Bazaar first. They do have the most amazing show there. Anyway, we've +got plenty of time. Her lady won't be home before twelve, and no more +will mine. [_Turns down gas, and exit._] + + [_Enter_ CATHERINE, _in a coat, with jet spangles + and a hat with nodding plumes. + Turns up gas, and looks about her while + drawing on a pair of tight gloves. Enter_ + SALLY _and_ TIBBIE _in outdoor wraps, + shawls, and "comforters."_ + +SALLY. Oh, Miss Catherine, I didn't know where you was. I +thought maybe you was gone. + +TIBBIE [_hanging back_]. You didn't tell me! You didn't tell +me! + +CATHERINE. Now you'll be sure she don't touch anything, +Sally. [_Looks_ TIBBIE _over._] + +SALLY. Naw! She won't hurt anything. I've told her I'd skin +her if she did. + +CATHERINE. Are her hands clean? You'd better give them a +wash, anyhow. + + [TIBBIE _drops her eyes, a little mortified._ + +SALLY. All right. I'll wash 'em. + +CATHERINE. Did she scrape her boots thoroughly on the mat +before she came up? + +SALLY. I looked after all that, Miss Catherine. Just you go +along with an easy mind. + +CATHERINE. Well, I'm off. I won't be long gone. Why don't +you give her a piece of that cake? It's cut. But don't let her make +any crumbs. Here, give me your things. I'll take 'em down to the +kitchen. Good-by, little girl. I guess you never was in a house like +this before. Good-by, Sal. Is my hat on straight? [_Exit with coats._] + +SALLY. She's particular, ain't she? + +TIBBIE. I'd just as soon wash them again, but they're clean. +I thought you said she was gone off to a party, and going to be gone +till real late. + +SALLY [_plumps down to contort herself in comfort_]. Law! +She thought it was Mis' Darling herself! Law! Law! [TIBBIE +_laughs, too, but less heartily._] Now what'll we do first? Do you +want the treat right off? + +TIBBIE. Oh, lemme guess, first, Sal, and tell me when I'm +hot! Is it made of sugar? + +SALLY. No, it ain't. + +TIBBIE. But you said it was a treat, didn't you, Sally? + +SALLY. I did that. But ain't there treats and treats? +There's goin' to the circus, for instance. That hasn't any sugar. + +TIBBIE. Is it a circus, Sally? Is it a circus? + +SALLY. No, it ain't a circus, but it's every bit as nice. + +TIBBIE. Is it freaks, Sally? Oh, tell me if it's freaks! It +isn't? Are you sure I'll like it very much? It's nothing to eat, and +it's nothing I can have to keep, and it's not a circus. What color is +it? You'll answer straight, won't you? + +SALLY. Oh, it's every color in the world, and striped, and +polka-dotted, and crinkled, and smooth. There's a hundred of it. + +TIBBIE [_rapturously_]. Oh! + +SALLY [_takes her hand_]. Come along now, I'm going to +wash your hands in Mrs. Darling's basin. Ain't it handsome? [_Pokes +the scented soap under the nose of_ TIBBIE, _who sniffs +delightedly._] Flowers on the chiny, too. [_Washes_ TIBBIE'S +_hands while they talk._] Did you get anything for Christmas yet, +Tibbie? [TIBBIE _moves her head slowly up and down, absorbed +in the process of washing._] What did you get? + +TIBBIE. A doll's flatiron an' a muslin bag of candy. I put +the iron on to heat and it melted. I gave what was left to Jimmy. + +SALLY. Who gave them to you? + +TIBBIE. Off the Sunday-school tree. But there weren't no +lights on it because it was daytime. Sally, I know something that has +a hundred---- + +SALLY. What's that? Let's see if you've got it now? + +TIBBIE [_shamefacedly_]. A dollar--is a hundred cents. + +SALLY. Well, and would I be bringing you so far just to show +you a dollar? This is worth as much as a dollar, every individual one +of them. Tibbie, it's just the grandest sight you ever seen--pink and +blue and yellow and striped---- + +TIBBIE [_after looking her fixedly in the face, now almost +shouts_]. It's marbles! + +SALLY. Aw, but you're downright stupid, Tibbie! I don't mind +telling you I'm disappointed. You're just a common, everyday sort +of a young one, with no idear of grandness in your idears, at all! +And you don't seem to keep a hold on more than one notion at a time. +First it's a dollar. Is that pink and blue? And next it's marbles. +Is marbles worth a dollar apiece? Now tell me what's the grandest, +prettiest thing ever you saw---- + +TIBBIE. ... Angels. + +SALLY. D'you ever see any? + +TIBBIE. In the church-window, painted. + +SALLY. Well, this is as handsome as a hundred angels, less +than a foot tall, all in new clothes, with little hats on. + +TIBBIE. Sally, I think I know, now. Only it couldn't be +that. There couldn't likely be a hundred of them altogether, for it +isn't a store you brought me to! You didn't tell me we were going to +a store. + +SALLY. No more it is. We're going to stay right here in Mrs. +Darling's house, and no place but here. + +TIBBIE [_faintly, looking all about_]. But where is there a +hundred of anything? + +SALLY. Oh, this ain't it, yet! This is only like the +outside entry. Now, Miss Tibbs, what kind of scent will you have on +your hands? + +TIBBIE. Oh, Sal! + +SALLY [_at dresser_]. Shall it be Violet, or Roossian +Empress, or--what's this other?--Lilass Blank? or the anatomizer +played over them like the garden hose? [_They unstop the bottles in +turn, and draw up great, noisy, luxurious breaths._] + +TIBBIE. This, Sally, this one with a double name, like +a person. [SALLY _pours a drop in each hand, and_ +TIBBIE _dances as she rubs them together._] Why are the +little scissors crooked? [_Busily picks up things one after the +other_]. What for is the fluting-irons? What for is the butter in the +little chiny jar? What's the flour for in the silver box? Oh, what's +this? Oh, Sal, what's that? + +SALLY. It's to make you pale. It ain't fashionable to be red. [_Picks +up powder-puff, and gives_ TIBBIE, _who draws back startled and +coughing, a dusty dab on each cheek, then applies it to her own. The +two stand gazing in silent interest at themselves in the mirror, +gradually breaking into smiles._ SALLY _suddenly hitches first +one shoulder, then the other, and brushes her face clean_, TIBBIE +_faithfully aping her movements. Then they look at themselves again._] + +TIBBIE. But I ain't pale, anyhow. + +SALLY. Law! that you ain't! + +TIBBIE. Who's the gentleman, Sal, in the pretty frame? + +SALLY. That's Mrs.'s husband. He ain't been living some time. + +TIBBIE. Oh, he ain't living. + +SALLY. Now, Tibbs, I'm going to get you that cake before I +show you the Hundred. You wait here. But don't you hurt anything, or +I'll skin you sure, like I told Miss Catherine. And whatever you do, +don't you look behind that curtain till I come back. + +TIBBIE. Is the Hundred there? + +SALLY. Yes, it's there. [_Exit._] + + [TIBBIE _looks at the curtain for a moment, + then turns to examine other wonders. + Strokes the soft cushions, etc., with the + palm of her hand, which she frequently + stops to smell. Gazes at the photo of the_ + REVEREND DOREL. + +TIBBIE. He looks like a real kind, good man. I'm going to ask Sally +if she knows him. [_Sits down on the floor and strokes the fur rug. +Enter_ SALLY _with cake-box._ TIBBIE _chooses gravely, then speaks +with her mouth full._] I never tasted any cake like this before. +M-m-m-m! Say, Sally, this big thing's 'most as good as a dog. It's so +soft I'd like to sleep on it. + +SALLY [_with feigned coldness_]. Oh, all right! I don't +think we'll bother any more about seeing The Hundred. + +TIBBIE. I had forgotten, honest, Sally. + +SALLY. Eat your cake, and come along, then. + +TIBBIE [_jumping up_]. Can't I take it, in my hand? + +SALLY. No, for when you see 'em, you'll drop it quick all +over the floor. + +TIBBIE [_hurrying it down_]. All right. I will. + +SALLY. Wait a minute. You turn your back, and I'll go and +open the curtains. When I sing out, you turn around. + + [TIBBIE _stands facing audience, hands clasped + tightly in impatience._ + +SALLY. Ready! + + [TIBBIE _gives one bound, then stops short + quite overcome._ + +SALLY [_expectantly_]. Well, ma'am? [TIBBIE _stands +gazing, unable to speak._] Well, I never! Don't you like 'em? What on +earth did you expect, child? Well, I never! Well, if it don't beat +all! Why, when I was a young one---- Why, Tibbie, girl--don't you +think they're _lovely_? + +TIBBIE [_whispers_]. Yes. [_Nodding her head slowly, then +letting it hang._] + +SALLY [_understanding_]. Aw, come out o' that! Come, +let's look at 'em one by one, taking all our time. Come to Sally, +darling, and don't feel bad. We'll have lots of fun. [_Takes_ +TIBBIE'S _hand and draws her nearer the dolls, then sits on +the floor and pulls_ TIBBIE _down into her lap._] + +TIBBIE. I had almost guessed it, you know, when you said +like angels with hats on. But I couldn't think there would be a +hundred unless it was a store. What has the lady so many for? + +SALLY. Bless your heart! They ain't for herself! They're for +orphans in a school that a minister cousin of hers is superintendent +of. She's been over a month making these clothes. Every Wednesday +she would give a tea-party, and a lot of ladies come stitching and +snipping and buzzing over the dolls' clothes the blessed afternoon. +And I washed the tea things after them all! + +TIBBIE. They are for the orphans. Are there a hundred +orphans? + +SALLY. Oh, I guess likely. + +TIBBIE. Suppose, Sally--suppose there were only ninety-nine, +and some girl got two! + +SALLY. Well, we two have got a hundred for to-night, +Tibbie, so let's play, and glad enough we've got our mothers. Look, +this is the way you must hold them to be sure and not crumple +anything. [SALLY _slips her hand under a doll's petticoats, +and they peep at the dainty underclothes._ SALLY _spurs +on_ TIBBIE'S _enthusiasm by the tones of her voice, +making the wonder more, to fill the child's soul to intoxication._ +TIBBIE _easily responds, fairly rocking herself to and fro +with delight._] + +SALLY. My soul and body! Did you ever see the like! +[_Sighs._] And not a pin among 'em. All pearl buttons, and silk +tying-strings, and silver hooks and eyes; and, mercy on my soul! a +little bit of a pocket in every dress, with its little bit of a lace +pocket-handkerchief inside. D'you see that, Tibbie? + +TIBBIE [_breathlessly_]. Oh, Sally! Oh, _Sal_ly! + +SALLY. Come on, Tibbie; let's choose the one we would choose +to get if we was to get one given us. Now I would like that one in +red velvet. It's just so dressy, ain't it, with the gold braid sewed +down in a pattern round the bottom. Which would you take? + +TIBBIE. I should like the one all in white. She must be a +bride; see, she has a wreath and veil and necklace. I should like her +the very best. But right after that, if I could have two, I should +like this other in the shade hat with the forget-me-nots wreath, and +forget-me-nots dotted all over her dress. And, see! the sky-blue +ribbon. If I could just have three, then I would take this one, too, +with the black lace shawl over her head, fastened with roses, instead +of a hat. She has such a lovely face! And after her I would choose +this one in green--or this one in pink; no, this one here, Sally; +just look--this one in green and pink. And you--if you could have +more than one, which would you choose, after the red one? + +SALLY. Well, I guess I should choose this one in white. + +TIBBIE. Oh, no, Sally, don't you remember? That is the +bride, the one I said the very first. You can have all the others, +Sally dear, except the bride. But let's see, perhaps there are two +brides. Yes!--no!--that is just a little girl in white, without a +wreath. Should you like her as well? I was the first to say the +bride, you know. + +SALLY. Law! I wouldn't have wanted her if I'd known she was +a bride! I take this one, Tibbie--this one with feathers in her hat. +Ain't she the gay girl in red and green plaid? And this purple silk +one, and this red and white stripe, and this---- + +TIBBIE. Wait! That's enough; Sally, that makes four for you. +It's my turn now. If I could have five, I should take one of the +rosebud ones--no, two of them, so's to play I had twins. Say, Sally, +what if we could choose one apiece--first you one, and then me one, +till we'd chosen them all up, and got fifty apiece! + +SALLY. What if we could! Wouldn't that be just grand! Tell +us some more you'd take. + +TIBBIE [_pointing and speaking at first slowly and +meditatively, then more and more quickly_]. I'd take this darling +blue girl, and this yellow one, and this cunning little spotted one, +and this, and this, and this, and this, and this---- Oh, Sally, if it +was only real, and not just let's-pretend! Now it's your turn. + +SALLY [_placing her forefinger pensively against the side of +her nose_]. For my fifth one, I choose her--her with the little black +velvets run all through. + +TIBBIE [_promptly_]. Taken already. + +SALLY. Then her over there with the short puffy sleeves. + +TIBBIE. Taken! + +SALLY. She taken, too? Well, then, her in the pink Mother +Hubbard, with the little knitting-bag on her arm. + +TIBBIE. Taken, Sally! Can't you remember anything? Those +belong to me; I chose them long ago. These are the not taken ones +over here; here, and here, and here, and here, and here, and here, +and---- + +SALLY. Aw, you're a great girl! [_Suddenly throws her arms +around_ TIBBIE _and casts herself back on the floor, where +they tumble and roll in a frenzy of fun._] Oh, Tibbie, ain't we +having a time of it? + +TIBBIE [_almost shouting_]. Yes!--ain't we having a time of +it! + +SALLY. Ain't this a night? + +TIBBIE. Oh, yes,--ain't it a night! [_They tickle and +poke each other until almost hysterical. At last_ TIBBIE +_disentangles herself from the panting and laughing_ SALLY, +_and gets up._] Here, Sally, now stop laughing, and let's go on. It +was your turn. You'd best take that one. She looks as if she might +be a little girl of yours, her cheeks are so red--red as a great big +cabbage! [_Laughs till she nearly cries._] + +SALLY. Well, it's sure none of 'em has legs to make 'em look +like children of yours! [_At this_ TIBBIE _flings out her +thin black legs with the action of a young colt, and drops to the +floor, where they frolic as before. In the midst of their gale of +mirth, a bell rings. They sit up, and look at each other in silent +consternation._] + +SALLY [_after a pause, in a solemn whisper_]. Murder! + +TIBBIE [_in her ear_]. What is it? + +SALLY. Was it the front door or the back door? + +TIBBIE. I dunno, Sally. [SALLY _picks herself up, +and casts a hurried glance on the dolls and about the room, to see +if things are nearly as she found them, then turns down the light. +Leads_ TIBBIE _to bedroom door._] + +SALLY [_glancing at clock_]. It ain't late. It ain't a bit +later than I supposed. It can't be her! It might be Mrs. Bonnet, +though, getting home before Catherine, who's got the key. I shouldn't +want her to catch you here for the whole world. Look here, Tibbie. +You stand in here till I find out who it is, and if it's Mrs. Bonnet, +you'll have to stay hidden till I find a good chance to come and +smuggle you down. [_Pushes_ TIBBIE _through door, and exit +by other door._ TIBBIE _very cautiously pokes her head out +and looks around._] + +TIBBIE. What's that scratching? I know there's a mouse here +somewhere. Go right away, mousie. There's nobody in here. Go right +away! + +SALLY [_without. Her voice calm, and pleasant with a kind of +company pleasantness_]. Tibbie! It's all right. It's just a friend +dropped in for a moment. You can play a little longer. Turn up the +light carefully. But remember what I told you. + + [_Enter_ TIBBIE _at the first sound of_ SALLY'S + _voice. Turns up the light, draws back the + curtain in front of the dolls, and kneels + before them. Takes up the bride with a + reverent hand, and after long contemplating + her, kisses her very seriously and tenderly. + Then moves the dolls about to + bring those she has chosen closer together._ + +TIBBIE [_meditatively_]. I can't play they are a family, there are +too many all the same age and all girls. I will play they are a +hundred girls in an orphan asylum--a very rich orphan asylum--and +that I am the superintendent. To-morrow I'm going to give each a +beautiful doll for a Christmas present. This little girl's name is +Rosa. That one is Nellie. That one is Katie. That one is Sue. And +Mary. And Jennie. And Ethel, and Victoria, and Blossom, and Violet, +and Pansy, and Goldenlocks, and Cherrylips---- Oh, dear, I know I can +never name them all. There surely ain't enough names to go around +and I'd just have to make up names for them. Kirry, Mirry, Dirry, +Birry! These don't sound like anything. I wonder what they do every +day in orphan asylums. They must have school and learn lessons, I +guess. I'll be the teacher, now. Miss Snowdrop! [TIBBIE _assists the +dolls to move, and answers for them in a squeaking little voice._] +"Yes, ma'am." Spell knot. "N-o-t." Not at all, my dear. Sit down +again, my dear. Miss Lily; stand up, miss, and see if you can do any +better this morning. Miss Pansy, I see you putting your foot out to +trip poor Miss Blossom. Don't you do that again, child, or I shall +have to stand you in the corner. Why, Rosy, how red your cheeks are! +Don't you feel well? "No, ma'am." Never mind, don't cry. I must take +you to the doctor's right away. Come, my dear. [_Goes to dresser and +looks in glass._] Good-morning, doctor. "Good-morning, ma'am" [_in a +deep voice_]; "you've got a sick child there, I see." Yes, doctor, +this is a young lady from the orphan asylum, and she says she's got a +bad pain in her face. "Yes, yes. I see, I see. Well, we'll give her +something to cure those red cheeks right up. Just come here, miss." +[TIBBIE, _as the doctor, powders the doll's cheeks very gently._] +Very well. Good-by, doctor. "Good-by, ma'am. If she isn't better in +fifteen minutes, let me know." Now, my dear, you needn't go back to +school. The orphans might catch it. I'd like to rock you in my arms, +but the superintendent is too busy.... Oh, dear, I don't like to be +a superintendent. I think I'll have you for my little girl [_draws +forward a low rocker and carefully turns down light_], and get you +some nice little sisters [_gathers a dozen dolls_], and then rock you +all to sleep. [_Settles comfortably in the chair._] It's bedtime, and +you must be rocked and loved a little. Now, sh! Sh! Sh! Sh! What's +that, Mamie? Sing to you? Very well. [_Sings._] Rosie, what are +you crying for now? You want me to rock faster? All right, I will. +[_Rocks faster. Rosie continues to cry, and the rocking soon becomes +furious. In the excitement one doll slips unnoticed to the floor._] +There, that's better. Now, children, do go to sleep.... Mother is +sleepy herself. [_Rocking becomes slower and slower, and at last +stops entirely._ TIBBIE _falls asleep.... Enter_ SALLY.] + +SALLY. Lively, Tibbie! Miss Catherine has got back. We must +be packing off home. I declare I lost sight of the time. There's just +no one like a fireman to be entertaining, I do declare. Mrs. Bonnet +won't be long coming now. [_Turns up light, sees_ TIBBIE +_rubbing her eyes, and the dolls all disarranged. Blankly._] Law! do +you suppose we can get them to look as they did? I hope t' Heaven she +didn't know which went next to which. Do you remember, Tibbie, where +they all belonged? + +TIBBIE. Yes, the bride went here. The rosebuds here. The +purple and gray here. I can put them all back, every one. + +SALLY [_cheerfully, again_]. No one'll ever know in the +world they've been disturbed. [_Draws off to get general effect. +Dives for the last doll, which_ TIBBIE _sleepily hands up +from the floor._] + +SALLY [_in a ghastly whisper_]. Tibbie! look at its head! [TIBBIE +_gazes in a puzzled way. The face is crushed._ SALLY _groans._] Oh, +Tibbie! now what'll we do! + +TIBBIE [_truthfully, lifting a very pale face_]. I didn't +do it! I was just as careful! She was one of my daughters. I had her +in my lap, rocking her to sleep with the others; she slipped off my +lap--there were too many for one lap, I guess--but I didn't step on +her. Sure, Sally,--sure as I live, I didn't step on her! + +SALLY. Oh, law! You must have rocked on her. Oh, Tibbie, what'll I +do? Here, give her to me.... No, she can't never be fixed. I wonder +if I can cover her up, here. [_Moves the dolls about tentatively._] +But what's the good? They'll count them, and there'll be the mischief +of a fuss. Oh, Tibbie---- [_reaching the end of her good-nature_] +----why did I ever think of bringing you here? Now look at all the +trouble you've brought on me, when I thought you'd be so careful! And +I told you and told you till I was hoarse. And here you've ruined +all! [_Drops into a chair before the wreck._ TIBBIE, _not daring to +meet_ SALLY'S _eyes, stands motionless and speechless._] I declare I +don't know _what_ to do! I wish I'd never seen 'em! I wish there'd +never been any Christmas! Oh, it's a great job, this! Tibbie, you've +done for me this time! + + [_Enter_ CATHERINE. + +CATHERINE. Hurry, and get off, now, Sally. + +SALLY [_blurts out_]. She's broken one of them! + +CATHERINE. You don't mean it! + +SALLY. Yes, she has! + +CATHERINE. Let me see it. Oh, you wicked child! [_Shakes_ TIBBIE +_vigorously by one arm._ SALLY, _attempting a rescue, seizes her by +the other, and the poor child is jerked about unmercifully._] She's +smashed its face right in! Now, whoever heard of such naughtiness? + + [TIBBIE _escapes and twists about to get her + back to the two._ + +SALLY. She didn't do it out of naughtiness, at all, Miss +Catherine. She's as good a child as ever lived! [TIBBIE'S +_shoulders give a convulsive heave._] It was an accident entirely. +But that's just as bad for me--I suppose I shall have to say it was +me did it. + +CATHERINE. And then they'll say what was I doing while the +kitchen-help was poking about in the lady's chamber. No; you don't +get me into no trouble, Sally Bean! You'd much better say how it +was--how that you asked me if you just might bring a little girl to +look, and I said you might, out of pure good-nature, being Christmas +is rightly for children, and I've a softness for them. And while we +was both in the kitchen, she slipped away from us, and come here and +done it before we knew. And the child will say herself that it was +so. You'll be packed off, dead sure, out of this place, if you let +on you meddled with them yourself. She won't have her things meddled +with---- There! I hear the door now. There comes that old cat Bonnet. + + [_Enter_ MRS. BONNET, _her cheek bones and + the end of her nose brilliant with the cold. + She carries a paper bag, and speaks with + an impediment and a breath of peppermint._ + +BONNET. What's the matter? What child is that? + +CATHERINE. It happened this way, Mrs. Bonnet. I allowed +Sally to fetch this child up to see Mrs. Darling's dolls.--Just for a +treat, of course--never thinking Sally'd be so careless as to let one +of them get broken. But that's what she done. I'd just stepped out +for a moment, never for a minute supposing anything like this could +happen, but you just see for yourself. That doll can't be mended no +way at all. And now, Mrs. Bonnet, what's to be done? + +BONNET. Oh, you wicked little brat! I just want to get hold +of you and shake you! [_Makes a snatch at_ TIBBIE, _who gets +beyond her clutch, and turns scared eyes on_ SALLY.] + +TIBBIE [_just audibly_]. I want to go home; I want to go +home. + +BONNET [_bitterly_]. It don't seem possible that I can run +out a minute just to do an errand for Mrs. Darling herself--to get a +spool of feather-stitching silk--but things like this has to happen. +Catherine, I thought you at least was a responsible person, and here +you has to go and---- + +CATHERINE [_promptly_]. Mrs. Bonnet, you just let that +alone! Don't you try none of that with me! I went out of an errand +every bit as much as you did. I went out to make sure the ice cream +would be sent in good season for Christmas dinner, I did. Now I don't +get dragged into this mess one bit more than you do! + +BONNET [_looking at her with a poison-green eye_]. Well, +Mrs. Darling will be here in a minute, and then we shall see what +we shall see. Land, ain't that woman been cross to-day, and fussy! +'Tain't as if she was like other people--a little bit sensible, and +could take some little few things into consideration, and remember +we're all human flesh and blood. Not much! She don't consider +nothing, nor nobody, nor feelings, nor circumstances! She just makes +things fly! Things has to go her way, every time! + +TIBBIE [_pathetically, turning a trembling face to_ +SALLY]. I want to go home! + +BONNET [_uglily_]. No, you shan't go home! You shall stay +right here and take the blame you deserve, after spoiling the face +of that handsome doll. What do you mean by it, you little brat, you +little gutter-imp! + +SALLY [_with a boldness new in her relations with_ MRS. +BONNET]. You let her alone, Mrs. Bonnet! Don't you talk to her +like that! Anyone can see she's as sorry as sorry can be for what +she's done, and all the trouble she's got us into---- [COOK +_appears in door._] + +BONNET. And what does that help, I'd like to know? The doll +is broke, ain't it? And some one of us is going to catch it, however +things go. You're a lucky girl, I say, if you don't lose your place. +Some one of us is a-going to, I can easy foretell. + +CATHERINE [_firmly, with lifted chin_]. I ain't going to +lose my place! Here comes Cook now! I suppose she wants to get into +trouble, too. + + [_Enter_ COOK, _her high-colored shawl pinned + on her breast with a big brooch, her + bonnet-strings nearly lost in her fat chin._ + +COOK. What's the matter? What's it all about? Whose nice +little girl is this? + +SALLY. I brought her here, Mrs. McGrath. She's Tibbie, a +neighbor's child, and I brought her---- + +COOK. To see them beautiful dolls. Of course. And one of +'em happened to get broke? [_Goes to_ TIBBIE, _and lifts +her miserable little face._] Don't you feel bad one bit, darlin'! It +was all an accident, and it's no good crying over spilt milk. And if +Mrs. Darling gets mad at you, she ain't the real lady I take her for. +Why, I gave my Clary a new doll this very evenin' and it's ready for +a new head this minute. And did I go for to rare and tear about it? +Not a bit of it! Why, bless you, she didn't go for to do it! Why, +what child smashes a doll a-purpose? You're a pretty set, the whole +gang of you, to pitch into a child! [_Tries, with_ SALLY, +_to comfort and silence_ TIBBIE, _who by this time is freely +weeping. Exit_ BONNET, _and re-enter at once without hat and +coat._] + +COOK [_looking hard at_ MRS. BONNET]. I've a great +mind to stay here myself and stand up for her, yer pack of old maids, +the lot of yer! + +BONNET. You will oblige me, Mrs. McGrath, by doing nothing +of the sort. We've no need to have a whole scene from the drama. +You've no business on this floor, anyhow, and I must insist on your +keeping yourself in your own quarters. + +COOK [_mutters_]. And I'll take my own time, yer born +Britisher! [_Putting her arm around_ TIBBIE.] Well, Tibbie +dear, you can be sure of this: however bad this seems, it'll soon be +over. And if Mrs. Darling scolds, that'll soon be over, too. It'll +all be looking different to you in the morning. However things goes, +you'll soon be forgetting all about it. And to-morrow is Christmas +Day, that our own dear Lord was born on, and I'll bake you a little +cake and send it to you by Sally. + +TIBBIE [_sobbing_]. But Sally's going to be sent away. + +COOK. So she might be, but I feel it in my little toe that +she ain't going to be. + +SALLY [_bravely_]. Well, if I am, I am, and there an end. +But I don't see why she can't take the price of the doll out of my +wages and let me stay. + +BONNET. I think you'll find that it ain't most particularly +the cost of the doll gets you into trouble---- There she comes this +minute! + + [_All listen in profound silence._ + +MRS. D. [_below_]. Good-night, cousin Dorel. + +MR. GOODHUE [_below_]. Good-night, cousin Cynthia. Sleep +well. + +MRS. D. You, too. Pleasant dreams. Good-night. [_Sound of +door closing._] + + [_Enter_ MRS. DARLING. _Stands a moment at + door, regarding the assemblage with a sort + of absent-minded astonishment._ + +MRS. D. What is it? Has anything happened? What is everybody +doing up here? Whose little girl is this sitting up so late? They +used to tell me I should never grow, my dear, if I sat up late---- + +BONNET. This is what it is, ma'am. I took the liberty of +stepping out for a few moments, it being Christmas Eve and my work +all done, knowing you wouldn't be needing me till late. And Sally +here took it upon herself to bring a child--how she could presume so, +I'm sure _I_ don't understand, ma'am. She might have known aforehand +something would be broken. And sure enough--when I come in---- + +MRS. D. Oh, cut it short! What you have to tell is that the +child there has broken one of the dolls, isn't it? + +BONNET [_mutters_]. That's it, ma'am. + +MRS. D. And you've kept her here when she ought to have been in bed +these hours, to bear the first burst of my displeasure---- [MRS. +DARLING _says so much in a hard voice, with an appearance of cold +anger; here her voice suddenly dies, and she bursts out crying +like a vexed, injured child._] I declare it's too bad! [_She sobs, +reckless of making a spectacle of herself, while all look on in +consternation._] I declare it's too bad! It's no use! It doesn't +matter _what_ I do--it's always the same! It's _always_ taken for +granted that I will conduct myself like a beast. Who can wonder, +after that, if I do? Here I find them, pale as sheets, the five of +them shaking in their boots, because a forlorn little child has +broken a miserable doll. And _what_ is it supposed I shall do about +it? Didn't I dress the hundred of them for children, and little +poor children, too? And I must have known they would get broken, of +course. _Why_ did I dress them? _What_ did I spend months dressing +them for? Solely for _show_, they think,--not for any charity, any +kindness, any love of children, or anything in the _world_ but to +make an effect on an occasion--to make myself a merit with the +parson, perhaps! [_Her crying seems to become less of anger and +nervousness, and more of sorrow._] Oh, it is too bad! One would +imagine I never said a decent thing or did a kind act to anyone. +And, Heaven knows it's not for lack of trying to change. But no one +sees the difference! I am treated like a vixen and a terror. And the +people about me hate and fear and deceive me! A proof of it to-night. +Oh, the _lesson_! Oh, I wasn't _meant_ for this! I wasn't meant for +it! When I think of last Sunday's sermon and how straight to my heart +it went. Oh, I am a fool to cry! [_Dries her eyes, and holds out her +hand to_ TIBBIE.] Come here to me, dear child. What is your name? +What? A little louder! What did you say? Tibbie! Oh, what a nice, +funny name! _You_ didn't think I was going to scold you, did you, +dear? Of _course_ not! It was an accident; I understand all about it. +I used to break my dolls' heads frequently, I remember very well. +[_Puts her arm about_ TIBBIE _and tries to make her head easy on her +shoulder._ TIBBIE, _however, cannot relax, and rests uncomfortably +against her._] Let us see, dear, now, what we can do to make us both +feel happier. I dressed all those dolls for little children I am not +acquainted with at all. Which of them would you like the very best? +Which should you like for your very own? + + [TIBBIE _cannot move nor speak, but her eyes + travel towards the dolls._ + +SALLY [_comes beamingly to_ TIBBIE'S _aid_]. The +bride, Tibbie, the bride! + +MRS. D. The bride? Which one is that? That one? Of course! [_Reaches +for it, and_ SALLY _hands it to her._] There, my dear. [TIBBIE _takes +the doll loosely, without breath of thanks._ MRS. D. _reviews the +dolls, and_ TIBBIE'S _hand is stretched involuntarily towards the +broken one._] Of course, of course, you would want that poor dolly +to nurse back to health. Now, dear, isn't there _one more_ you would +like? [TIBBIE'S _confusion overwhelms her._] I'll choose one for you, +and you shall call her Cynthia, after me. How would you like that? +Suppose we say this one with the forget-me-nots? She looks a little +like me, doesn't she, with her hair parted in the middle? Her dress +is made of a piece of one of my own, and that blue is my favorite +color. [_Rising._] There, Tibbie, now you have two whole dollies, and +part of another. You must run right home to bed. A Merry Christmas to +you, dear child. I am very happy to have made your acquaintance. + +TIBBIE [_shyly, but heartily_]. I think you are +good--_good_. And, please,--I'd like--if you wouldn't mind--I'd like +to kiss you! + + [MRS. DARLING _bends suddenly, and catches + the child in her arms._ + + +CURTAIN + + +NOTES ON COSTUME AND PRESENTATION + +MRS. DARLING. Evening dress. + +BONNET and CATHERINE wear black, with white maid's +apron, collar, and cuffs. Outdoor costume as indicated. + +MRS. MCGRATH. Shawl and bonnet with no attempt at prevailing +styles. Stout, rosy, motherly, and comfortable. + +SALLY. Pretty and wholesome-looking. Appears at first in a +limp blue kitchen-apron, later in her outdoor coat and hat, neat, but +cheap-looking. + +TIBBIE. Old dress, very neat and clean, but faded, and with +an outgrown, hand-me-down appearance. She is a thin and half-fed +little tenement-house child, to whom the luxury of Mrs. Darling's +house is an undreamed-of fairy-land. + +This part was played by a little girl of nine, who delighted in +learning and acting it. A bright and appreciative child can do it +without undue effort, although it is, of course, the important rôle +of the play. + +THE DOLLS. The number of dolls need not be over fifteen or +twenty, if so arranged as to suggest more tiers hidden from view at +the back of the couch. They should be as nearly of one size as is +practicable, though uniformity goes no further. The broken one should +be broken first, and Tibbie must slip it to the floor unnoticed +before she sits down to rock the others. + + + + +GENERAL NOTES + + +FIREPLACE. If scenery is not available, the fireplace used +in this play, and in several others, can easily be built up from +packing-boxes covered with cambric (dull side out), the bricks +or tiles marked in black paint, or even with ink. A valuable and +effective stage-property, used when "Tom's Plan" was first given, +and in many subsequent plays, was an old-fashioned wooden mantel, +obtained through a carpenter who was tearing down an old house. This +may be a suggestion for other amateurs. A small screen can be covered +with cambric, and painted to represent the back of the fireplace, an +opening being left at one side, through which Santa Claus, in "Tom's +Plan," "The Christmas Brownie," and "Their Christmas Party," makes +his entrance. Andirons, with logs and a red electric bulb, will make +a very pretty and effective fire. In "Their Christmas Party," the +poor children hide in the fireplace, and the "Christmas Brownie" goes +in and out several times. + +SANTA CLAUS. Red or brown coat, trimmed with ermine (cotton, +or, if practicable, some real fur); high boots; cap to match coat, +with fur brim. He wears a string of sleigh bells over his shoulder, +and carries a pack full of small toys for distribution. White hair, +mustache, and long white beard. + +In these plays, in which Santa Claus has often an important part, +do not on any account allow him to wear a mask. The hair, mustache, +and beard, with a good rosy make-up, are sufficient disguise for +him, and in those cases where there are little children in the cast +whose literal belief in Santa Claus must not be disturbed, he is +not indispensable at rehearsals. Partly because he should not be +recognized, an adult player is always indicated for this part, rather +than an older boy, who is apt to be in more intimate touch with the +children. + +CHRISTMAS TREE. If the play is to serve as introduction +to a Christmas Tree, the tree should be placed as near the stage +as possible. When the play is over, the lighted tree is unveiled, +and the children who have taken part distribute the presents under +the leadership of Santa Claus. Or, if found more practicable, the +tree may be placed in another room, and Santa Claus may invite the +children of the play and the audience to go with him in search of it. +An appropriate tree song may be sung by the whole audience. Reference +to such songs may be found on the following page. + + + + +SUGGESTIONS FOR CAROLS + + +SONGS AND GAMES FOR LITTLE ONES. Gertrude Walker and Harriet +S. Jenks. Oliver Ditson Company, Boston. + +Contains a number of useful songs and carols, among which the +following may be specially mentioned: + + "Oh, Ring, Glad Bells!" (P. 58.) + + "The First Christmas." (P. 60.) + Good for little children. + + "Noël, Noël, the Christ is Born!" (P. 62.) + Excellent processional. + + "A Wonderful Tree." (P. 67.) + Tree song. + +SONGS FOR LITTLE CHILDREN. Part I. Eleanor Smith. Milton +Bradley Co., Springfield, Mass. + + "In Another Land and Time." (P. 31.) + + "Waken, Little Children." (P. 33.) + Very simple. Good for small children. + +PART II of the same contains Santa Claus and Jack Frost +songs. + +THE NEW HOSANNA. New-Church Board of Publication, 3 West +29th Street, N.Y. + + Has a good tree song: + "The Christmas Bells in Many a Clime." (P. 4.) + + For little children: + "Can There Be a Sweeter Story?" (P. 21.) + +There are also a number of old English carols, among them: + + "The First Nowell." (P. 2.) + "Come, Ye Lofty, Come, Ye Lowly." (P. 23.) + "From Far Away We Come to You." (P. 30.) + +Also several of the more familiar Christmas hymns to be found in most +church hymnals. + +For old music, see the following: + + CHRISTMAS CAROLS, NEW AND OLD. Novello & Company. + + TWELVE OLD CAROLS, ENGLISH AND FOREIGN. Novello + & Company. + + FOLK SONGS, AND OTHER SONGS FOR CHILDREN. Oliver + Ditson Company, Boston. + +The first and last of these both contain "Good King Wenceslas," which +is included in other collections as well. + +Martin Luther's Christmas hymn for his own children, which is very +good for small children, beginning "Away in a manger," is in + +DAINTY SONGS FOR LITTLE LADS AND LASSES. John Church +Company, Cincinnati. + + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Christmas Candles, by Elsie Hobart Carter + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 58546 *** |