Transcriber’s Notes:

  Underscores “_” before and after a word or phrase indicate _italics_
    in the original text.
  Small capitals have been converted to SOLID capitals.
  Illustrations have been moved so they do not break up paragraphs.
  Typographical and punctuation errors have been silently corrected.




                               • ST. NICHOLAS •
                                 BOOK OF PLAYS
                                • & OPERETTAS •

                                 SECOND SERIES

                                [Illustration]

                                THE CENTURY CO.
                             NEW YORK      LONDON

                              Copyright, 1916, by
                                THE CENTURY CO.

                          _Published September, 1916_

                              PRINTED IN U. S. A.




CONTENTS


                                                  PAGE
    THE DREAM-TOY SHOP                     3
        By Jessie M. Baker.
    CHRISTMAS BABES IN THE WOODS          10
        By Corinne Rockwell Swain.
    WHICH SHALL BE KING?                  29
        By Anna van Marter Jones.
    THE CHRISTMAS CONSPIRACY              44
        By Elizabeth Woodbridge.
    HOW CHRISTMAS WAS SAVED               67
        By Catharine Markham.
    THE FIRST THANKSGIVING DAY            89
        By Agnes Miller.
    EVERYCHILD                           101
        By Content S. Nichols.
    “EVERYGIRL”                          111
        By Rachel Lyman Field.
    THE EGYPTIAN CAT                     122
        By Irene Woodbridge Clark.
    THE SLEEPING BEAUTY                  147
        By Caroline Verhoeff.
    LORD MALAPERT OF MOONSHINE CASTLE    164
        By E. S. Brooks.
    LITTLE FOLK IN GREEN                 188
        By Elizabeth Woodbridge.
    A FRIEND IN NEED                     207
        By Maude Morrison Frank.
    THE NEW RED RIDING-HOOD              224
        By E. S. Brooks.
    THE BABES IN THE WOOD                240
        By Laura E. Richards.




CHARACTERS


    LITTLE MAIDEN.           TWO DOLLS.
    SANTA CLAUS’ FAIRY.      THE KITTY.
    JACK-IN-THE-BOX.         THE BUNNY.
    TWO SOLDIER-BOYS.        THE TEDDY-BEAR.




THE ST. NICHOLAS BOOK OF PLAYS AND OPERETTAS




THE DREAM-TOY SHOP

(_A Christmas Playlet for Little Girls and Boys_)

BY JESSIE M. BAKER


SCENE I

LITTLE MAIDEN’S ROOM ON CHRISTMAS EVE

    [_In the bed at center the_ MAIDEN _lies asleep in her
        little frilled night cap and gown. Her stocking is
        hung on the bedpost. At the left on a small table a
        tiny candle burns._

    _At the right is a large arm-chair with a picture-book
        and doll lying upon it._

    _Enter the Christmas_ FAIRY _at right. She wears a
        loose, white frock with crêpe paper wings and a
        wreath of holly, and carries a little silver,
        star-tipped wand._]

    FAIRY.
       Oh, I am Santa Claus’ Fairy!
       I’m the Dreams-of-Christmas Fairy!
       Where a little child lies sleeping
                   [_Tiptoes to bedside._]
       I come softly, softly creeping
       And I weave my magic, so!
                   [_Waves wand gently above little_ MAIDEN.]
       Dream-dust, dream-dust on her eyes
       Make this maiden sweet to rise,—
       Through the gates of Dreamland go!
       With my fairy spell to wake you

       [MAIDEN _rises dreamily and is led slowly
              toward the exit at left by the_ FAIRY.]

       To the Dream-toy Shop I’ll take you,
       Where the Dream-toys dance and play
       On the eve of Christmas day!

                [CURTAIN]


SCENE II

THE DREAM-TOY SHOP

    [_On the counter at background are a number of large
        toys, among them two little girls—one fair-haired,
        one dark—dressed as_ DOLLS.

    _At the left of the counter stand two_
        SOLDIER-BOYS _with drums, paper caps,
        and epaulets_.

    _At the right is a large, square, red box._

    _On the floor in front of the counter sits the
        black_ KITTY. _He wears black tights,
        a little black jacket from beneath which his long
        tail curls, and a little black cap with pointed
        ears._

    _At right foreground sits the_ BUNNY.
        _He is dressed in a white sleeping garment which
        covers hands and feet, and a little flannelette
        cap with long, upstanding ears which are wired and
        colored pink on the inside._

    _At left foreground on a little stool sits the_
        TEDDY-BEAR _in furry coat and cap with
        little ears of cotton wool_.

    FAIRY _and_ MAIDEN _pause at right entrance._]

    FAIRY.
       Here within the Dreamland gate,
         All the lovely Dream-toys wait.
       Choose, and they shall come alive
         Until the Dream-toy clock strikes five.

       [_Leads little_ MAIDEN _into shop._]

    MAIDEN.
       Oh, what lovely, lovely toys!
         I shall choose—the Soldier-boys!

    FAIRY. [_Softly touching them with wand._]
       Forward march, then, Soldier-boys,
         But _please_ don’t make too much noise.

[Illustration]

    [_Soldiers begin to march and drum stiffly at first
        and softly, but soon faster and noisily._]

    MAIDEN. [_Putting fingers in ears._]
       Soldiers do make lots of noise!
         Girls are quieter than boys.
       Let the Dollies come alive.

    [FAIRY _touches them with wand. They get stiffly
          off counter._]

    MAIDEN.
       Oh, I don’t know which to choose!
         This one has such pretty shoes!
       This one has such curly hair—
         This one is so sweet and fair!

    [_The_ DOLLS _dance a minuet, the little_ MAIDEN
        _clapping delightedly, the_ SOLDIERS _applauding
        with drums. Little_ MAIDEN _spies the_ BUNNY,
        _runs over to him, and pats him gently. The_
        FAIRY _touches him with her wand and he hops back
        and forth—while_ SOLDIERS, DOLLS _and_ MAIDEN
        _applaud_.]

    MAIDEN.
       Oh, you darling, darling Bunny!
         And aren’t your pinky, long ears funny?
       But the Kitty, sleek and black,
         Is even funnier than that!

    [_The_ FAIRY _touches him with her wand. He begins to
        turn about, displays his curly tail, and spits
        at the little_ MAIDEN _when she slyly pulls it.
        Little_ MAIDEN _strokes his back, and he sings a
        meow solo to the tune of “Auld Lang Syne.” All
        applaud._]

    MAIDEN. [_Turning to_ TEDDY-BEAR.]
       Why, here’s a little Teddy-bear!
         I hardly saw you hiding there.

    [FAIRY _touches him with wand. He stands up,
        stretches himself, then sits on his little stool
        and sings_:]

            Oh, I’m the Baby Teddy-bear,
            Oh, I’m the Baby Teddy-bear,
            Oh, I’m the Baby Teddy-bear,
            The littlest Bear in the Family!

    [_All the_ TOYS _gather about as he sings. The little_
        MAIDEN _takes him on her lap and begins to croon
        in a motherly fashion. Suddenly a noise comes from
        the direction of the red box._ MAIDEN, _rising and
        taking_ TEDDY-BEAR _by the hand, begins to look
        excitedly about_.]

    MAIDEN.
       But aren’t there any other toys?
         I thought I heard a funny noise!

    [_Again the noise is heard._ MAIDEN _runs over and
        touches lid of box. It pops open, showing a funny_
        JACK-IN-THE-BOX _holding a bag of candy under his arm_.]

    [JACK-IN-THE-BOX _sings_.]
       Oh, my name is Jack of the Candy-box.
         In a Candy-box I live.
       Just touch the cover and up it pops
         And a kiss to you I’ll give!
       To each little boy and each little girl,
         Each child who passes by,
       A candy kiss or a candy curl—
         Candy-box Jack am I.

    [_As he sings, all the toys form in a line behind the
        little_ MAIDEN, _and as they pass_ CANDY-BOX JACK,
        _he gives them each some candy from his bag_. TOYS
        _return to places and little_ MAIDEN _stands at
        center_.]

    MAIDEN.
       [_Stretching arms toward_ CANDY-BOX JACK.]
    All the Toys are as fine as can be,
      But Jack-in-the-Candy-box for me!

[Illustration]

    [JACK _jumps out of the Candy-box and places his hands
        on the shoulders of the little_ MAIDEN.]

    [_All dance the Norwegian Folkdance “Up to the Moon in
        a Rainbow,” using these words._]

    [_All sing._]
       Guess, guess, where I would like to be,
         Like to be, like to be.
       Up on the top of the Christmas tree,
         Up on the Christmas tree!
       Yes, yes, that would be
         Great, great fun for me.
       Yes, that would be great fun for me,
         To be up on the Christmas tree!

    [_As they finish there is the sound of a clock striking
        five._ CANDY-BOX JACK _and all the_ TOYS _go back
        to their former places and remain motionless_.
        FAIRY _softly leads_ MAIDEN _out_. JACK _pops his
        head out and throws a candy kiss after her. She
        runs back to get it and waves good-by._]

[CURTAIN]

[Illustration]




CHRISTMAS BABES IN THE WOODS


BY CORINNE ROCKWELL SWAIN


CHARACTERS

    DICK, a boy of nine or ten.
    BETTY, his sister, a little younger.
    QUEEN OF THE SNOW FAIRIES.
    PEARL   }
            } Maids of Honor to the Queen.
    CRYSTAL }
    JACK FROST.
    SANTA CLAUS.
    SNOW FAIRIES AND HOLLY ELVES.


COSTUMES

    BETTY and DICK may wear modern outdoor dress, with
        bright caps and sweaters; or, if preferred,
        something more old-fashioned and picturesque, such
        as “Greenaway” or “Cranford” costume.

    The QUEEN and her FAIRIES are in white, with silver
        tinsel and crystal ornaments, and carry wands
        with silver stars. They may wear either trailing
        draperies, or short “Pierrette” dresses, with
        silver ruffs, rosettes, and little pointed caps.

    JACK FROST; “Pierrot” costume of white or pale blue,
        with silver cap and ornaments.

    The HOLLY ELVES; “Pierrot” or “Yama-Yama” suits
        of green, with caps, ruffs, buttons and
        slipper-rosettes of scarlet. They carry branches of
        holly.


SCENE

    The woods in winter. If scenery is not available, a
        generous supply of white sheets and cotton batting
        will make an effective setting, with a few small
        evergreens, and bare boughs. A large Christmas tree
        should be utilized as part of the scene; place it
        to right of center, and trim lightly with silver
        tinsel, “snow,” and glass icicles. Near the tree, a
        couch or seat should be built up and covered with
        white, to represent a little mound; upon this the
        Queen sits, and later, the children recline. The
        time is about sunset; a red light, if available,
        will be effective early in the scene, while
        toward the end it grows darker. A curtain is not
        absolutely necessary, although of course more “like
        a play.”


MUSIC

    The airs mentioned may all be found in “Folk Songs and
        Other Songs for Children”; Oliver Ditson Company.

    [_The_ QUEEN _and_ FAIRIES _enter, dancing, to the air
        of “Come, Lasses and Lads.” The_ HOLLY ELVES _dance
        in from opposite side, and, with the_ FAIRIES,
        _form a circle about the_ QUEEN, _singing_:]

    Come fairies and elves, bestirring yourselves,
      Take hands in a joyous ring!
    With step so light, in our woodland white,
      We’ll merrily dance and sing.
        No sorrow or care we know;
        Through forest and field we go—
    Then trip it, trip it, trip it, trip it,
        Over the sparkling snow;
    Then trip it, trip it, trip it, trip it,
        Over the sparkling snow!

    [_The_ QUEEN _seats herself upon the mound as a throne,
        while the rest group themselves about her_. CRYSTAL,
        PEARL, _and several others step to left, looking off
        intently, as though something attracted their notice_.]

    QUEEN.
       What see you, loyal subjects? Speak, I pray!

    CRYSTAL. [_Returning and bowing before the_ QUEEN.]
       Your Majesty, two mortals come this way!

    PEARL.
       Two children, trudging hither through the snow,
       Toward our band, with lagging steps and slow.

    QUEEN.
       Two children? Coming here? ’Tis passing strange!
       Few mortals through our lonely woodland range.
          [_Rises._]
       Away, my band! We’ll hide, until we see
       Who these unwonted visitors may be!

    [_They all hide, behind tree, in wings, etc. Enter,
        from left_, BETTY _and_ DICK, _dragging evergreen
        boughs. They move wearily, and pause near center,
        to look about them._]

    BETTY.
       O, Dicky dear, when _are_ we going back?
       It must be time to take the homeward track!
       The snow’s too deep—the holly grows so high;
       And I’m so tired—I almost want to cry!
       Which is the path?

    DICK. [_Looking about doubtfully._]
                          I guess it’s this one—no,
       It’s that—they all look puzzling, in the snow!

    BETTY. [_Dismayed._]
       Dick, aren’t you sure? I thought you _always_ knew!
       Oh, if we’re lost, whatever shall we do?

    DICK. [_With boyish impatience._]
       Now, little goosie, don’t you dare to cry!
       Wait here—I’m sure to find it, if I try.
            [_Walks about, searching._]
       It’s somewhere near; I’ll find it in a hurry! [_Aside._]
       I mustn’t let poor little Betty worry!

    [BETTY _standing facing R., wiping her eyes, but
        evidently trying to be brave. The_ QUEEN _peeps at
        her from behind the Christmas tree, and she gives a
        startled cry._]

    BETTY.
       Oh, Dicky, come!

    DICK. [_Running to her._]
                                   What for?

    BETTY. [_Pouting._]
                                  Behind that tree—
       I’m sure I saw somebody wave at me!

    DICK. [_Scornfully._]
       A puff of wind, that blew the snow about,
       Or maybe just a rabbit, jumping out!

    BETTY.
       I thought perhaps—it made me feel so queer—
       ’Twas some good fairy, come to help us here!

    DICK. [_With superior wisdom._]
       That’s silly! Don’t you know, you can’t depend
       On fairies, ’cause they’re only just “pretend”?

    BETTY. [_With conviction._]
       _I_ b’lieve they’re real! [_Wearily._]
       Oh, Dicky, can’t we sit
       Upon this mound, and rest ourselves a bit? [_Sits down._]

    DICK. [_He sits beside her, and she leans
                       her head against him._]
       Only a moment; for we’ll need the light
       To find our path; you see, it’s almost night.

    BETTY. [_Drowsily._]
       I wish that fairy’d come—the path to show—

    DICK. [_Sleepy, but positive._]
       Fairies are only—make-believe—you know—

[Illustration]

    [_They nod and finally doze, sinking into a reclining
        position upon the mound. The_ FAIRIES _and_ ELVES
        _steal out cautiously, to soft music, and survey
        the children with curiosity. Then, coming closer,
        they surround the sleepers and sing; air, “Der
        Rothe Sarafan.”_]

    Softly, softly, snow sprites!
      Steal softly, till we see
    Who these wandering strangers are
      That rest beneath our tree.
    Gently, comrades, gently—
      Now closer let us creep!
    Silently they lie there—
       [_Repeat last four lines._]
    Sunset light is gleaming,
      Night is drawing near;
    Still they linger, dreaming,
      In this forest drear!
    Sunset light is gleaming,
      Night is drawing near!
    Stranger sight was never seen;
      Two drowsy heads laid low,
    Under bows of evergreen,
      To slumber in the snow!
    Softly, softly, snow sprites—
      Steal softly till we see
    Whose these mortal strangers are
      That rest beneath our tree!

    QUEEN. [_Bending over them anxiously._]
       They’re fast asleep! Now, this will never do!
       If what our wisest fairies say be true:
       When mortals sleep too soundly in the snow,
       The dreamland elves will never let them go.

    CRYSTAL. [_Touches_ BETTY’S _cheek,
                          then draws her hand away hastily_.]
       So soft and warm a thing I never felt!
       I thought my finger-tips would surely melt!

    QUEEN.
       Too light our touch to make them ope their eyes;
       But here’s Jack Frost! He’ll give us counsel wise.

    JACK FROST. [_Entering briskly, and bowing
                             to_ QUEEN.]
       Good evening, Sister Snow! Well, what’s the news?

    QUEEN.
       Dear Jack, I need advice—now don’t refuse!
       Little account of mortal ways I keep;
       But _is_ this just the way they ought to sleep?
          [_Points to children._]

    JACK.
       Indeed it’s not! I’ll rouse the sleepy-heads,
       And send them scurrying home to seek their beds!

    QUEEN.
       But you’ll not hurt them, Jacky dear?

    JACK.                          Not I!
       To wake them with my gentlest nips I’ll try.
           [_Sings, as he circles around the children,
               touching them lightly: Air, “Skye Boat Song.”_]

       Children awake, I merrily sing!
         Slumber away must fly;
       Chill is my touch, and sharp is my sting—
         Jolly Jack Frost am I!
       Nips for your nose—tweaks for your toes,
         Shivers you can’t mistake!
       Rude I must seem, spoiling your dream;
         Better by far to wake!

    ALL.
       Children awake, we merrily sing!
         Slumber away must fly;
       Fingers and toes he’ll warningly sting—
         Jolly Jack Frost is nigh!

    JACK.
       Here while you sleep, vigil I’ll keep.
         Lift up your drowsy heads!
       Fading the day, hasten away
         Home to your cozy beds!

    ALL.
       Children awake, we merrily sing!
         Slumber away must fly;
       Fingers and toes he’ll warningly sting—
         Jolly Jack Frost is nigh!

       [_The children begin to stir_; BETTY
           _rubs her nose uneasily_.]

    BETTY.
       Ow! Dick, don’t pinch my nose!

    DICK.                 I didn’t, true!
       But some one nipped my ear—now was it you?

       [_In awed whisper, as he looks about and sees_
           FAIRIES.]

       Oh, Betty, look! I say—who can they be?

    BETTY.
       They’re surely fairies, Dicky! Only see
       That prettiest one—she must be queen, I guess!

       [_Timidly, to_ QUEEN.]

       Are you a fairy queen?

    QUEEN. [_Graciously._] Dear children, yes;
       These are my subjects [_Fairies curtsey_];
       These the holly sprites;
       And this Jack Frost—in teasing he delights!
               [JACK _and_ ELVES _bow_.]

    BETTY. [_With a little shiver._]
       Mr. Jack Frost, we’ve often heard of _you_!

    DICK.
       You’re sharp—but still, we fellows like you, too,
       When ice you give us, good and thick, for skating!

    JACK. [_Laughing and bowing._]
       I’m glad of that!

    QUEEN.      But tell us, dears—we’re waiting—
       Why have you strayed amid these lonely scenes?

    DICK. [_Shyly._]
       Your Majesty, we came for Christmas greens,
       But this is all we found [_holds up branch_].

    BETTY. [_Plaintively._]
                                And holly—why,
       We couldn’t reach a bit, it grew so high!

    QUEEN.
       Come, holly elves, and let them take their fill
       Of your bright berries!

    ELVES. [_Crowding about and offering branches._]
                                   Yes, indeed we will!

    BETTY and DICK. [_Taking some._]
       Oh, thank you! Thank you!

    DICK.                But we mustn’t stay—
       That is if we can only find our way;
       I thought I knew; but snow makes such a change
       In paths and trees, that everything looks strange!

    BETTY. [_Sadly._]
       And mother warned us not to stay too late!
       It must be supper time—how _can_ I wait?

    DICK.
       Me too! I’m _starved_!

    QUEEN.            Poor dears!
       [_To_ PEARL _and_ CRYSTAL.]
       Quick, bring the best
       Your skill commands, to please each hungry guest!

    PEARL.
       Some starry flakes, with diamond sauce?

    CRYSTAL.                 I’ll make
       A puffy snowball pudding—

    PEARL.                    Frosted cake;
       Two rainbow sundaes—

    QUEEN.               Perfect! Hurry, please!
       [_Exeunt_ CRYSTAL _and_ PEARL.]
       You’ve never dined on dainties such as these!

    DICK. [_To_ BETTY.]
       How good it sounds! Just think—real fairy food!

    BETTY. [_With sisterly authority._]
       Now mind your table manners—don’t be rude!

    [PEARL _and_ CRYSTAL _return with dishes heaped with
        snow dainties, which they offer to the children.
        They taste eagerly, then look at each other in keen
        disappointment._]

    BETTY. [_Ready to cry._]
       Why all the things are made of snow—and ice!
       I thought a fairy feast would be so nice!

    DICK. [_Summoning his politeness._]
       Your Majesty, we thank you; but we find
       Your food is such a very different kind
       That I’m afraid we can’t—

    QUEEN. [_Perplexed._]     Now, that’s a pity!

    JACK. [_Offering icicles._]
       Fresh icicles? Just see, how crisp and pretty!

    A HOLLY ELF. [_Holding out branch._]
       Some berries red? The birdies think they’re fine!

                    [_The children shake their heads._]

    QUEEN. [_Sadly._]
       Our hungry guests find naught on which to dine!

    DICK, BETTY, and CHORUS. [_Singing mournfully._]
         Oh, dear, what can the matter be?
         Oh, dear, what can the matter be?
         Oh, dear, what can the matter be?
           Can’t we find something to eat?
         We hadn’t a doubt that such delicate dishes
         Would prove most attractive, and truly delicious!
       Alas, {we  } discovered how vain were {our  } wishes,
             {they}                          {their}
           Although {we  } expected a treat!
                    {they}
         Oh, dear, what can the matter be? etc.

    BETTY.
       It’s getting darker—what will Mother say?
       She’ll worry so! Home seems _so_ far away!

    DICK. [_Frankly discouraged._]
       I don’t know where to go, nor what to do! [_Distant sleigh-bells._]
       Hark! Hear the sleigh-bells! Now, I wonder who—
                 [_Springs up hopefully._]

    QUEEN, FAIRIES and ELVES. [_Joyfully._]
       It’s Santa! Santa Claus!

    BETTY. [_Excitedly, to_ DICK.]
                                Oh, do you hear?
       Perhaps we’ll see him, if he passes near!

    JACK.
       Of course you will! To-morrow’s Christmas Day;
       On Christmas Eve he always comes this way,
       For through this quiet wood he likes to ride,
       To reach the villages on either side.

    QUEEN.
       Pray run and call him, Jack! He’ll surely know
       These little folk, and tell them where to go.

    [JACK _and_ ELVES _run off, Left. Shouts and a loud
        “Whoa!” are heard outside, and then_ SANTA, _enters,
        with a triumphant escort, and comes to front_.]

    SANTA. [_Bowing to_ QUEEN, _while the
       children peep out from behind her, in great excitement_.]

       Greetings, Your Majesty! I understand
       You called me; so I’ve come at your command!
           [_Sees children._]
       Two mortal children! Who are these, fair Queen?
       Astray, on Christmas Eve? What can it mean?

    QUEEN. [_Coaxingly._]
       That’s just the reason why we sent for you;
       So please advise us what we ought to do!
       You see, these little ones have strayed so far,
       They’ve lost their way, and don’t know where they are.

    SANTA. [_Looks at them intently, walks around them,
       and finally consults a pocket memorandum book._]

       You’re Dick and Betty Martin? [_They nod shyly._]
               Yes, that’s right:
       They’re miles away from home—a pretty plight!
       Good youngsters, too; I’ve got ’em on my list;
       And just to think, my call they might have missed!
       Suppose I let you have your presents now—
                                       [_To children._]

    QUEEN. [_Interrupting._]
       But, Santa dear, that doesn’t fix it! How
       Can they get home to-night?

    JACK.                For, don’t you see,
       It’s late, and they’re as weary as can be?

    CRYSTAL.
       Their mother’s getting anxious too, they say—

    QUEEN. [_With decision._]
       You’ll simply _have_ to take them in your sleigh!

    [_The children clutch one another in wonder and
        suspense, while the others nod their heads at_
        SANTA, _with determination_.]

    SANTA. [_Starts with surprise, then strokes his
                        beard thoughtfully._]
       I wish I might! But if the truth be told,
       My sleigh is just as full as it will hold,
       Of gifts for all the folk for miles around:
       To duty false I’ve never yet been found.
       And yet—[_looking at children_]
                to leave them in this lonely wood—
       I’d love to take them—

    BETTY. [_Shyly taking his hand and looking up
                        at him adoringly._]
                                If you only could!

    SANTA. [_Stroking her hair._]
       You little pet!

    DICK. [_Taking the other hand._]
                       Or, if you didn’t mind,
       We might be able just to hitch behind!

    SANTA. [_Patting his shoulder._]
       A plucky chap! [_Considering._] I wonder if I can—

    JACK. [_Who has been talking aside with the_ QUEEN.]
       Just listen, Santa! We’ve the finest plan!
       You’ve gifts for many in the village near?

    SANTA. An overflowing bag; and so, I fear—

    QUEEN.
       Here’s our solution: Leave the bag with me,
       And, elves and fairies all, we’ll gladly see
       That every gift’s bestowed, this very night.
       We’ll be your aids, and work with all our might.

    JACK.
       Each home we’ll find, nor miss a single one!

    ALL. [_Taking hands and dancing about_ SANTA.]
       Indeed we will! We promise! Oh, what fun!

    QUEEN.
       What say you, Santa?

    SANTA.               Many thanks, my dears!
       I’ll take the youngsters home, and end their fears.

         [_Warningly, to_ DICK _and_ BETTY.]

       But promise none shall know how this befell,
       Except your mother! Don’t you ever tell
       Another soul!

    DICK _and_ BETTY. We won’t! Oh, what a lark!

    SANTA.
       We must be starting soon; it’s growing dark:
       I’ve lingered now for many a precious minute!
       Come, Jack, let’s get the bag. [_Chuckling._]
         “There’s millions in it!”

          [_They drag in a large bag, from Left._]

       Well, here it is; each gift’s addressed with care,
       And here’s my list; you’ll find none missing there.

          [_Hands roll of paper to_ QUEEN.]

    QUEEN.
       We’ll do our very best!

    SANTA.           You’ll find it fun;
       I’m always sorry when the task is done!

          [SANTA CLAUS _sings, all joining in chorus:
               Air, “Funiculi, Funicula.”_]

    SANTA.
       Some love to see the children bright and jolly,
         And so do I!

    CHORUS.
         And so do I!

    SANTA.
       When homes are gay with Christmas greens and holly,
         Content is nigh.

    CHORUS.
         Content is nigh!

    SANTA.
       I love the sound of sweet and happy voices,
         In carols gay.

    CHORUS.
         In carols gay.

    SANTA.
       Away with care, while every one rejoices
         On Christmas Day!

    CHORUS.
         On Christmas Day!
           [_Marching or dancing around_ SANTA CLAUS,
            _clapping hands in time_.]
       Santa! Santa! Hail to Santa Claus!
       Santa! Santa! Hail to Santa Claus!
         Here’s glad applause
         For Santa Claus!
         Our hearts he draws
         To him because—
       Just because he’s Santa Claus, our dear old Santa Claus!

    SANTA.
       Some say each child should have a Christmas stocking,
         And so do I!

    CHORUS.
         And so do I!

    SANTA.
       While others seem to find the notion shocking,
         And frown and sigh.

    CHORUS.
         And frown and sigh.

    SANTA.
       But I—I love to hear my sleigh-bells ringing
         Good will to all!

    CHORUS.
         Good will to all!

    SANTA.
       To spend my time in joy and laughter bringing
         To great and small!

    CHORUS.
         To great and small!

             [_Clapping hands as before._]

         Santa! Santa! Hail to Santa Claus!
                             [_Etc._]

    SANTA. [_Briskly._]
       Come, children—in my sleigh we’ll take our flight!
                       [_Bowing to all._]
       Now, merry Christmas—and to all good night!

    ALL.
       Good night!

    [SANTA _and the children go off L. and the sleigh-bells
        jingle away into the distance_.]

    QUEEN. Quick! Let’s to work, my subjects dear!
           And share the joy of spreading Christmas cheer!

    [_The gifts are taken from the bag by the_ QUEEN _and_
        JACK FROST, _and distributed among the audience
        by_ FAIRIES _and_ ELVES. _If this ending is not
        desired, the “Hail to Santa Claus” chorus may be
        repeated after_ SANTA’S _exit, to the accompaniment
        of his bells, and the play closed in this manner_.]

[Illustration]




WHICH SHALL BE KING?


(_A Christmas Play in One Act_)

BY ANNA VAN MARTER JONES


SCENE

    Any stage or platform large enough to hold all the
        actors for final chorus and dance—with wings
        screened from view where players may sit when not
        on the stage. No curtain required, the only “stage
        setting” being a large chair at back of stage and
        twelve (or six) small chairs placed about the stage
        leaving center free.


CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY

    FATHER TIME, a tall boy in gown, with white
        hair and beard; carries a scythe and an hour-glass.

    HERALD, boy in page’s suit.

    JURY, twelve or six boys and girls in school
        clothes, having dolls, teddy-bears, books or
        toys—as if meeting for play.

    MASTER JANUARY, boy—suit of white—leggings,
        trousers, sweater, and stocking cap—trimmed with
        white cotton; carries a large, white-covered book
        on which _Resolutions_ is printed in bold
        relief.

    LITTLE NEW YEAR, tiny child, also in white,
        carrying sleigh-bells; one who can sing.

    MISS FEBRUARY, girl—blue cap, white blouse,
        red skirt, the last trimmed with silver hearts and
        birds; carries a small flag and a large valentine.

    BLUSTER MARCH, boy—wearing overcoat, mittens,
        “pull-down” cap and tippet; carries a huge kite, a
        large top, and a bag of marbles.

    FOUR WINDS,[1] four smaller lads, who can
        sing; costumes: gray gowns with large kimono-like
        sleeves covering hands; and pointed hoods of same
        material.

    BABY APRIL, small girl—dress, lavender; a
        “red ridinghood” cape of pale green; carries some
        tiny white flowers.

    THE PRINCESS MAY, tall girl—in pink gown,
        with wreath of green vines and pink flowers;
        carries wild flowers.

    MAY’S ATTENDANTS,[2] six or twelve smaller
        boys and girls—in white costumes, who dance about
        her or do a simple Maypole dance.

    SUMMER-HEARTED JUNE, girl, in white with
        wreath of roses; carries large bunch of roses.

    JOLLY JULY, boy, in Uncle Sam suit; carries
        bunch of sky-rockets and toy pistol.

    MISS LEISURE AUGUST, girl, in outing
        costume—large hat, etc.; carries tennis racquet,
        fishing rods, and golf sticks.

    SCHOOL-DAY SEPTEMBER, boy, in school suit,
        laden with huge strap full of school books.

    GOLDEN OCTOBER, girl, in light brown dress
        trimmed with autumn leaves; carries basket of red
        apples.

    LITTLE LEAVES,[3] six tiny girls in red and
        yellow dresses.

    HARVEST NOVEMBER, boy, in cook’s cap and
        apron; carrying, on a tray, a turkey.

    ASSISTANT COOKS, four boys similarly
        dressed, each bearing on his tray a portion of
        the Thanksgiving dinner described in his lines.

    DEAR DECEMBER, a large boy, dressed as Santa
        Claus and carrying a small Christmas tree.

    MUSIC throughout the play may be produced by a
        pianist, an orchestra, or a chorus of children. Any
        suitable selections may be substituted for those
        here suggested. The play moves on well with only
        piano interludes.

[1] May be left out of cast without interfering with action.

[2] May be left out of cast without interfering with action.

[3] May be left out of cast without interfering with action.




THE PLAY


    [_Enter, left wing, six or a dozen school children,
        talking, laughing, hurrying in. They discover_
        FATHER TIME _standing at right front of stage,
        leaning on his scythe, and looking much disturbed_.]

    CHILDREN. [_Cheerily._] Good evening, Father Time.

    FATHER TIME. [_Very sadly._] Good evening, little
    folks.

    BOY. [_Aside._] The old man looks terribly blue
    to-night, doesn’t he?

    GIRL. Sh! Don’t let him hear you say that—Poor
    old Father Time!

    FATHER TIME. You may well say “Poor old Father
    Time.”

    CHILDREN. [_Together._] Why, have you had bad
    luck, Father Time?

    FIRST GIRL. Are you ill?

    SECOND GIRL. Can’t we help you?

    FATHER TIME. [_Shakes his head several times most
    sorrowfully, then steps forward as if suddenly struck
    with a fine idea._] Perhaps you can help me,—yes, I
    do believe you children are the very ones who can.

    CHILDREN. [_Eagerly._] Oh, tell us how!
        [_They gather near him._]

    FATHER TIME. Well, my dears, a sad state of affairs
    exists in my family. I’m ashamed to tell you—but
    my twelve children have been quarreling.

    CHILDREN. Children quarreling! How shocking!

    FATHER TIME. True, true, my friends. And the
    worst of it is that they declare they will never leave
    off wrangling until one of them has proven his right
    to be king. But if one of the twelve can make good
    his claim to sovereignty, the rest are ready to crown
    him and will become his loyal subjects—so they say.

    BOY. Well, Father Time, why don’t you decide
    which is your best child, and appoint him king, and
    so settle the whole matter?

    FATHER TIME. Oh, a father cannot select his best
    child. All the children in a family must be equal in
    their parents’ eyes, you understand. But [_tapping
    his forehead_] I think I see how this unfortunate dispute
    can be ended. I’ll go talk to those months of
    mine—I’ll ask them to submit to a trial by jury—and
    if they will do that—

    CHILDREN. [_With great glee._] We may be the
    jury? Oh, goody!

    FATHER TIME. Perhaps—maybe—But wait you
    here—I’ll bring you their decision. [_Goes out
    right wing._]

    [_The_ CHILDREN _form ring and play
        drop the handkerchief, but rush at_ FATHER
        TIME _pell-mell when he returns_.]

    CHILDREN. May we decide? Are we the judges,
    Father Time?

    FATHER TIME. Softly, softly—judges must be
    grave and sober, you know. [CHILDREN _stand very
    straight and look most solemn_.] Yes, the twelve
    months agree to present their claims to you. They
    say you will be fair, for they have heard that children
    always speak the truth.

    CHILDREN. Quite right—we always do speak the truth.

    FATHER TIME. Now take you each a chair [CHILDREN
    _obey_] and sit you here. [CHILDREN _seat themselves
    in two rows at left front of stage facing toward
    center partially_.] Be very careful how you look and
    how you listen. Think hard before you give your
    judgment—for what you decide will make one child
    of mine a sovereign.

    [FATHER TIME _seats himself at back of stage_.]

    FATHER TIME. [_Calls._] Ho, Herald.

    HERALD. [_Entering from left wing._] Yes, your
    reverence—I come, your reverence.

    FATHER TIME. Go, bid my children be ready in the
    anteroom, and when they are assembled bring hither
    each in turn.

    HERALD. Yes, your reverence; I go, your reverence.
                   [_Goes out at right wing._]

    [_Music and sleigh-bells heard. Short instrumental
        selection or sleighing song._]

    [_Enter_ HERALD _with_ MASTER JANUARY _and the_ LITTLE
        NEW YEAR.]

    HERALD. [_To_ JURY.] Honorable judges, this is
    Master January.

       [JANUARY _bows to_ JURY _and recites_.]
    I’m the first month, as you see,
    And there is a charm to me,
    For all that’s old or bad I hide away;
    And I bring this book so white
    Where each one of you may write
    Resolutions to be good from day to day.
    And this little fellow here,
    My delightful chum, New Year,
    Just think of all the treasures he will bring.
    I am sure you’ll vote for me,
    For I know you will agree
    That you choose me—when you hear him sing.

    [LITTLE NEW YEAR _sings, “I am the little
        New Year.”_ _Jenks’ Kindergarten Songs._]

    JURY. A very good pair and a nice little song—
    But we cannot say you—you may pass right along.

    [_Exit_ JANUARY _and_ NEW YEAR _to left._]

    [_Music_—_A Patriotic Air played or sung._]

    [_Enter_ HERALD _and_ MISS FEBRUARY.]

    HERALD. Allow me to present Miss February.

        MISS FEBRUARY. [_Recites._]
    Think well of the heroes you honor and bless.
    I bring you their birthdays and so rather guess
    That from pride in your country you’ll surely choose me.
    For Lincoln and Washington both did you see.
    But if to appreciate them you’re too small
    Then surely St. Valentine’s day wins you all.

    JURY. We love you and we honor you
    But for a queen you will not do.
                [_Exit_ FEBRUARY.]

    [_Enter_ HERALD _and_ BLUSTER MARCH, _followed by the_
        FOUR WINDS, _who wave their arms like fans as they
        approach._]

     HERALD. This is Bluster March.

     BLUSTER MARCH. [_Recites._]
     Ho, ho, ho! Can’t we blow,
     These little winds and I!
     We clear the earth for flowers’ birth
     And frolic in the sky.
     I bring the marbles, tops, and kites
     In which the small boy so delights.
     And better still, I always bring
     The promise of approaching spring.

    [WINDS _sing “The Winds.”_
         _Modern Music Series, First Book._]

     JURY. You are a jolly fellow true,
     But not for kings such lads as you.

     [_Exit_ MARCH _and the_ WINDS.]

    [_Enter_ HERALD _coaxing little_ APRIL _to follow. She
        hangs back and seems so shy that_ HERALD _has to
        push her gently toward the_ JURY.]

    HERALD. This is Baby April.

        BABY APRIL. [_Wipes her eyes, and says_:]
    I’m ’most too small to go about
    Without some grown-up guides.
    I can’t help crying—I must pout—
    But I can smile besides.
    And when my little form is seen
    The dreary world awakes all green.

    JURY. O, April, you’re too timid quite
    To rule the year—trot out of sight.
            [_Exit_ APRIL.]

    [_Music._ _May song sung or May dance played._]

    [_Enter_ HERALD, PRINCESS MAY
             _and_ DANCERS.]

    HERALD. Honorable judges, allow me to present
    the Princess May and her train.

    [_All bow. The dancers place the crown on_ MAY’S _head
        and form for the dance which immediately follows.
        At its close_ MAY _recites._]

    Hear the birds a-singing,
      See the leaping rill,
    How they greet my coming
      Over vale and hill.
    In my hands are blossoms,
      On my face a smile,
    And my days of sunshine
      Sadness will beguile.

    JURY. You surely are a lovely lass—
    But not a queen—so you must pass.

    [_Exit_ MAY _and train._]

    [_Music._]

    [_Enter_ HERALD _and_ JUNE.]

    HERALD. Honorable judges, Miss Summer-hearted
    June.

    JUNE. [_Recites._]

    Oh, take me for your queen,
    For surely ne’er was seen
    A fairer, sweeter, dearer month than I.
    I bring the balmy weather
    When roses crowd together,
    And blueness makes the beauty of the sky.
    But when my moon so tender
    Sheds over all its splendor
    It seems that heaven itself is drawing nigh.

    JURY. You’re dear and fair and sweet
    But not for queenship meet.

    [_Exit_ JUNE.]

    [_Music. “Yankee Doodle.” Drumming and noise
    of fire-crackers._]

    [JULY _rushes on to stage unannounced, shoots his
    cap pistol and says to_ JURY:]

    You know me, boys—and girls, you do,
    The month of the year I am sure for you—
    With crackers and cannon and squibs and rockets,
    And pistols and caps in small boys’ pockets—
    With fireworks and music and jolly noise,
    I’m the favorite month with girls and boys.
      Now am I not, Eh?

    JURY. [_With hands over their ears._]
    We love you once in a long year
    But more than that would tire, we fear.
                        [_Exit_ JULY.]

    [_Music—Waltz or Boat Song._]

    [_Enter_ HERALD _and_ AUGUST.]

    HERALD. Honorable judges, permit me to introduce
    to you Miss Leisure August.

       AUGUST. [_Recites._]
    Picnics by the lakeside,
      Fishing in the bay,
    Hammocks on the porches,
      Idleness all day.
    Golfing on the meadows,
      Bathing in the sea,
    Surely for a monarch
      You’d be glad of me.

    JURY. [_With great disapproval._]
    Ninety in the shade—
    Never you, fair maid!

    [_Exit_ AUGUST.]

    [_Music. “School Days.”_]

    [_Enter_ HERALD _and_ SEPTEMBER.]

    HERALD. The Jury knows School-day September.

    SEPTEMBER. [_Recites._]
    You know me well for I’m the day
    When school begins and stops your play;
    When packing up your books, you go
    Where you must study—

    JURY. [_Interrupting._] Oh, oh, oh!
    We never could have you for king—
    Why, that would be a dreadful thing!
               [_Exit_ SEPTEMBER.]

    [_Music. “October’s Bright Blue Weather.”
             Modern Music Reader, Book II._]

    [_Enter_ HERALD _and_ OCTOBER.]

    HERALD. Honorable judges, Golden October.

        OCTOBER. [_Recites._]
    I’m the month of wonderful color—to me
    Belongs the beauty of changing tree.
    Nuts drop for my friends on the countryside,
    And over the landscape far and wide
    I spread the loveliest purple haze
    To soften the sun on my warmest days.
    While over the meadows, growing brown,
    The beautiful leaves come fluttering down.

    [_Enter little_ LEAVES, _dancing to front of stage where
       they sing “Come Little Leaves.” Kindergarten Song._]

     JURY. We can’t choose you, October gay,
     For long enough you never stay.

     [_Music. Song—“Come, ye thankful people.”
               Any Hymnal._]

     [_Enter_ HERALD, _followed by chief cook_
           NOVEMBER _and his assistants._]

     HERALD. Harvest November.

         NOVEMBER. Come along, my helpers true,
     Show the jury what we do.
     Here’s a dinner for you all—
     Turkey here for large and small.

     FIRST ASSISTANT. Celery and squash for you—

     SECOND ASSISTANT. Cranberries and jelly, too.

     THIRD ASSISTANT. Pumpkin pies and mince, as well.

     FOURTH ASSISTANT. Raisins rich and nuts to shell.

     NOVEMBER. While a song of thanks we sing—

     [_They sing—Repeating the first stanza of
           “Come, ye thankful people.”_]

     Will you choose me for your king?

     JURY. We love you well but not the best,
     So you must go and join the rest.

     [_Exit_ NOVEMBER _and the cooks_.]

     [_Bells are heard and a Christmas carol outside._]

     [_The_ JURY _exhibit great excitement and
        show by pantomime that they know what is coming now_.]

     [_Enter_ HERALD _followed by_ DEAR DECEMBER.]

     [_The_ JURY _rise in haste and clapping hands rush to
     meet_ DECEMBER, _shouting_:]

     Here is the king!
        [_They surround him joyfully._]

     FIRST GIRL. You bring us Christmas day!

     BOY. With wonderful Christmas stories!

     GIRL. And the bells—

     GIRL. And the stockings—

     BOY. And Christmas trees—and Santa Claus—

     BOY. And love to us all with peace and good will.

     ALL. Oh, dear December, your praise we sing,
     We know all choose you for their king.

     [_They sing an appropriate Christmas song._]

     FATHER TIME. [_Coming forward._] Have you
     chosen the king?

     CHILDREN. Yes, yes, Father Time, December is the
     king.

     FATHER TIME. And you have chosen well, for this
     is the month of love, and love is always king. Herald!

     HERALD. Yes, your reverence, I am here, your
     reverence.

     FATHER TIME. Go bid my other children come and
     greet their rightful king.

    [HERALD _goes out_.]

        [_The others return and passing before_ DECEMBER
            _salute him with low bows and curtsies, forming
            two circles about him. When all have come they
            dance about_ DECEMBER, _singing—“Hail, Old Father
            Christmas.” Modern Music Series, First Book._]

        [_At the final phrase of the chorus all wave a good-by
            to the audience._]

[Illustration]




_The Christmas Conspiracy_


A Christmas Play For Boys and Girls

By Elizabeth Woodbridge


CHARACTERS

    REAL CHILDREN, Harry, Nell, Bobby, Dot.
    MOTHER GOOSE CHILDREN, Jack, Jill, Miss Muffet, Boy Blue,
             Simple Simon, Jack Horner, Bo-Peep,
             Mistress Mary Quite Contrary.
    MOTHER GOOSE.
    SANTA CLAUS.

                          SCENE
    A dimly lighted sitting-room, showing a fireplace and
        at least one window. Leaning against the wall
        beside the fire place, a huge book of nursery
        rimes, with a picture of Mother Goose on the cover.

                           TIME
              The night before Christmas.


ACT I


[_Enter_ HARRY _and_ NELL, _with stockings to hang up_.]

HARRY. Come on! Let’s hang ’em here!

NELL. Where are Bobby and Dot?

HARRY. Hi, Bobby! Hi there, Dot! Come along! We’re going to hang up our
stockings now. [_They go back to entrance and draw in with them two
smaller children, the smaller the better, and help them hang up tiny
stockings, then lead them out and return themselves—all this in dumb
show, or the children may say a few words, whatever is most natural.
It is better for them not to learn set speeches for this part of the
business. After rearranging the stockings_, HARRY _and_ NELL _sit down
by the fire_.]

HARRY. What do you s’pose he’ll bring us?

NELL. I don’t know. Oh, dear! I wish it was morning!

HARRY. I want a new sled. Mine’s all broken.

NELL. I want a new doll’s crib. My littlest dolly hasn’t anywhere to
sleep except a bureau drawer.

HARRY. Mother said you needed a new pair of eyes—ones that won’t cry so
easily.

NELL. She said _you_ needed a new pair of hands—the kind that won’t
slap and pinch people.

HARRY. [_Reaching out and drawing the Mother Goose book over to him,
and pointing to the cover._] I think Mother Goose needs a new cap. Hers
has never looked like much since we spilt molasses candy on it.

NELL. Oh, if Santa Claus ever brought the Mother

Goose people anything—they all need things. [_She draws closer to_
HARRY, _and they open the book between them_.] Miss Muffet’s footstool
has holes through it, look! Mother says I poked those with the scissors
when I was little.


[Illustration]

HARRY. [_Turning a page._] And Boy Blue needs a new horn. He must be
tired of that tin one.

NELL. [_Turning another page._] And poor Bo-Peep! She’s had that same
ribbon on her crook ever since I was a baby!

HARRY. [_Turning again._] And Jack and Jill have been banging that pail
around down that hill for years and years. It must leak like everything.

NELL. I don’t believe Santa Claus ever thought of them. If he did, he
would bring them things, I know he would.

HARRY. How can he think of them when they don’t hang up any stockings!

NELL. Poor things!

[_A voice from outside calls, “Children!”_]

HARRY _and_ NELL. [_Getting up._] There’s Mother! [_They drop the book
and get as far as the door, when_ NELL _catches_ HARRY’S _arm and turns
back_.]

NELL. Let’s take the Mother Goose people with us. They’ll feel so badly
to see Santa Claus stuffing our stockings when he doesn’t give them
anything—and most of them are children, too. [_She picks up the book,
and_ HARRY _takes it. Both go out. Silence. Finally_ JACK _and_ JILL
_appear in the doorway, looking in. After a careful survey of the room,
they tiptoe in cautiously, go to the fireplace and look up it, feel of
the stockings, go to the window or windows and peer out. All this time
they hold between them an old tin pail._]

JACK. [_In a loud whisper._] He hasn’t come yet.

JILL. I suppose he might come ’most any minute.

JACK. We do need a new pail, sure enough. Look at this one! We couldn’t
carry a cupful of water in it, even if we didn’t tumble down.

JILL. And we don’t usually tumble down, of course. It was just that
once.

BOY BLUE. [_In the doorway, loud whisper._] Hello, Jack! Hello, Jill!
Anybody else here?

JACK and JILL. Hello, Boy Blue! Come in!

JACK. We were just talking about Santa Claus.

BOY BLUE. [_Entering._] Oh, you heard what the children said. So did I.

JILL. And we do need a new pail.

JACK. [_Holding out pail._] Look!

BOY BLUE. Yes, I suppose you do. But look at my horn! It’s all battered
up climbing stone walls after those tiresome cows.

JILL. Of course!

BOY BLUE. And once I dropped it down the well. I was helping Johnny
Stout get that pussy-cat out that Tommy Green put in.

JACK and JILL. Horrid boy, that Tommy Green!

BOY BLUE. And it really hasn’t tooted very well since then.

    [MISS MUFFET, _a very little girl, appears at door.
        She holds a little stool or hassock under one arm,
        and in the other hand a string, from which hangs a
        large, black spider._]

JILL. Why, here’s Little Miss Muffet, too! [JILL _goes over to door,
takes her hand, and leads her in._] I do believe she thinks she needs a
new tuffet. Is that it, Miss Muffet?

MISS MUFFET. Yes. Look at it! And I need a new spider, too.

JACK. [_Examining the spider._] Why, that looks to me like a perfectly
good spider. What’s the matter with your spider, Miss Muffet?

MISS MUFFET. He’s black. I’m tired of a black spider. I want a yellow
one—a big, yellow one.

BOY BLUE. Well, I never knew Miss Muffet cared what kind of a spider it
was.

[SIMPLE SIMON _appears at door, hesitates._]

[Illustration]

JACK. Oh, there’s Simple Simon! Come in, Sim, my boy! We’re all talking
about what we want. What do you want?

SIMPLE SIMON. [_Entering slowly and speaking with a drawl, or perhaps
a stammer._] I’ve always wanted lots of things—especially pie. But I
never had any pennies.

BOY BLUE. [_Briskly._] Then what you want is pies,—or else
pennies,—which would you rather?

SIMPLE SIMON. Pies.

JACK HORNER. [_Entering in time to hear the last two speeches._] Here!
Take mine! I picked out all the plums years ago. [SIMPLE SIMON _takes
the pie, and retires to back of stage to eat it_.]

BOY BLUE. Hello, Jack Horner! What do _you_ need?

JACK HORNER. [_Turning to the others._] What I need is a new pie.

MISTRESS MARY QUITE CONTRARY. [_Entering._] And what _I_ need is a new
watering-pot. [_Pettishly._] Look at this old thing!

BO-PEEP. [_Entering._] There’s Mistress Mary, _quite_ as contrary
as usual! But, now really, children, no joking, _I_ do need a fresh
ribbon. You all heard what Harry and Nell said. They noticed it. I
suppose everybody has.

JILL. [_Patronizing but friendly._] Yes, Bo-Peep, we all noticed, only
we’ve been too polite to speak about it. [_Confidentially, with an air
of wisdom._] Have you ever tried dampening it and pressing it?

BO-PEEP. Yes, Mother Goose does that for me every little while.

JILL. But it _is_ badly faded, isn’t it?

BO-PEEP. Of course it is! How could it help being? I’ve been chasing
those sheep for _years_, out in the hot sun, and hooking their
legs—like—like this!

    [_She reverses her crook and begins hooking it around
        the children’s ankles. They hop and run to escape
        her. Screams and laughter._]

MOTHER GOOSE. [_Entering, waving her stick at them._] Children!
children! What _are_ you doing? You’ll wake the house! And Santa Claus
may pop in any minute and catch you! And _then_ what!

ALL. Catch us? What fun!

JACK. Perhaps we’d catch him! We’d make him give us a new pail,
wouldn’t we, Jill?

BO-PEEP. And me a new ribbon.

BOY BLUE. And me a new horn.

MISTRESS MARY. And me a new watering-pot.

JACK HORNER. And me a new pie.

SIMPLE SIMON. I’d like some pie, too.

JACK. And Miss Muffet, here, wants a new tuffet.

MISS MUFFET. _And_ a new spider—a yellow one.

MOTHER GOOSE. What children you are! Poor old Santa Claus! Hasn’t he
enough to do now, without your teasing him for things?

JACK. But he never gives us anything.

ALL. Harry and Nell said so, too.

JILL. And they said he surely would if he only thought.

JACK. [_Facing the rest, and striking an attitude._] Let’s _make_ him
think!

ALL. How? how?

JACK. All hide here, and wait till he comes, and then jump out at him,
and capture him.

ALL. Oh, what fun! Let’s! [_They turn to_ MOTHER GOOSE.] May we? may we?

MOTHER GOOSE. If you promise you won’t hurt him.

ALL. Oh, we won’t; we won’t.

    [_They prance with glee, then take hands and circle around_
         MOTHER GOOSE, _singing_:]

[Illustration]

    Oh, we’ve planned the greatest lark you ever heard!
    ’Twould be dreadful if it wasn’t so absurd.
        From our lairs behind the chairs,
        On old Santa, unawares,
    We’ll just spring, and jump, and pounce, without a word.

    He doesn’t know we’re waiting here to-night.
    We’ll surprise him, so he’ll never dare to fight.
        From our lairs behind the chairs,
        We will take him unawares,
    And we’re sure he’ll have an awful, awful fright.

[Music]

    [_After the song, they stop and listen. A sound of
        distant sleigh-bells is heard. The children scatter
        and hide behind the furniture or in dark corners._
        MOTHER GOOSE _retires to entrance door and stands
        in its shadow_.]

    [_The bells sound louder, then cease. The window is
        opened slowly._ SANTA CLAUS _enters, sets in his
        pack, goes out again and brings in a big sled,
        closes window and comes forward to fire, rubbing
        his hands_.]

SANTA CLAUS. Such houses! A fellow has to prowl and prowl around a
house like a thief to find a place to get in. Look at that chimney!
They’ll expect me to come in on the telephone-wire next. Well—here are
the stockings—one—two—three—four.

    [_At a signal from_ JACK, _the children creep out and
        spring upon_ SANTA CLAUS _from behind. They pull
        him down, hold his hands and legs, and pull him to
        a big chair in the middle of the room. Meanwhile_
        SANTA CLAUS _calls, “Help! help! murder!”_ JACK _at
        length stops his mouth by winding a handkerchief
        about his head. This_ JACK _does leaning over him
        from behind_.]

JACK. Now, Santa Claus, it’s no use to wiggle and scream. You’re
caught. Will you be good and quiet? If you will, hold up both hands,
and waggle the fingers. [SANTA CLAUS _does so_.] All right. [JACK
_takes off handkerchief and comes around toward front_.] Now, listen.
We don’t mean any harm—

SANTA CLAUS. Oh, you don’t, you young scamps!

JACK. [_With dignity._] We’re not scamps, and we promised Mother Goose
here not to hurt you, and we haven’t.

[MOTHER GOOSE _comes forward a little_.]

SANTA CLAUS. You’ve hurt my feelings, terribly.

JACK. Not half so much as you’ve hurt ours.

SANTA CLAUS. What? What’s this?

ALL. You never gave us a present.

JILL. Never in all our lives.

BO-PEEP. And we feel badly.

BOY BLUE. Terribly.

ALL. _Terribly._

MISS MUFFET. [_Coming up to his knee._] And I want a new tuffet, and a
new spider—a yellow one.

JACK. Jill and I want a new pail. Look at this one!

BO-PEEP. And I need—I really need—a new ribbon for my crook.

BOY BLUE. And I need a new horn.

MISTRESS MARY. And I need a new watering-pot for my garden.

JACK HORNER. And I’m just _starving_ for a new pie. There weren’t any
plums left in mine, and I gave it to Simple Simon here.

SIMPLE SIMON. I’ve been wanting pie for a long time. But I never had
any pennies.

SANTA CLAUS. [_Looking about at them, half amused, half vexed._] Why,
you midgets! you little ruffians! Do you mean to say you’re holding
me up for presents! Me! Santa Claus! The children’s friend! Held up
here by force, in the dark—by a set of—of highway robbers! Aren’t you
ashamed?

ALL. [_Gathering around and pointing fingers at him, very
impressively._] Aren’t _you_ ashamed?

MISS MUFFET. I want a new spider—a yellow one.

SANTA CLAUS. You do, you little minx, you little Muffety minx! Come
here! Do I look as if I kept yellow spiders in that bag?

MISS MUFFET. I want a new spider.

SANTA CLAUS. Listen to her! A yellow spider!

MISS MUFFET. And a new tuffet.

SANTA CLAUS. And a new tuffet! dear! dear!

JACK. [_Severely._] You promised to be good.

SANTA CLAUS. Mother Goose, what do you think of the way you’ve brought
up these children?

MOTHER GOOSE. Well, Santa Claus, I can’t help it. Children take things
pretty much into their own hands nowadays.

SANTA CLAUS. So you won’t stand by me! [_To_ MISS MUFFET.] And you
stand there waiting for your new spider!

MISS MUFFET. And my tuffet.

SANTA CLAUS. And your tuffet.—Jack, bring me my bag.

ALL. Hurrah! He’s going to! he’s going to!

    [JACK, _with the other boys, brings over the pack and
        sets it down before_ SANTA CLAUS, _who opens it
        and begins to feel about in it. He pulls out a new
        little stool or hassock._]

SANTA CLAUS. Here, Miss Muffet! Here’s your new tuffet. Sit down and
see if it fits you. [MISS MUFFET _sits down between his knees, facing
audience._ SANTA _takes out large yellow spider on string, and dangles
it down over her head, lowering it slowly until she catches sight of
it. She screams, and runs to the far corner of the room._]

SANTA CLAUS. Why, Miss Muffet! I thought you said you _wanted_ a yellow
spider!

MISS MUFFET. [_Coming slowly back._] I was used to a black one.
[_Takes new spider by the string, gingerly, and sits down on new tuffet
at Santa’s feet._]

[Illustration]

SANTA CLAUS. Here, Jack, here’s a new pail. And be more careful with it
this time. Don’t bang it around downhill so. [JACK _takes it, starts to
carry it over to_ JILL, _stumbles, and falls flat, flinging pail all
across room_.]

SANTA CLAUS. There you go again! What’s the use of giving you a new
pail? Jill, take care of it for him! [_Takes out fresh ribbon._] Here,
Bo-Peep, here’s your ribbon. [BO-PEEP _takes it, curtseys, and goes
back beside_ JILL, _who helps her take off the old ribbon and tie on
the new one_.]

SANTA CLAUS. Here, Mistress Mary, here’s a new watering-pot for you.
Now let me see you smile. [MISTRESS MARY _smiles and curtseys_.] Here,
Jack Horner. [_Giving him a pie._] There are lots of plums in this. But
you mustn’t pick them all out first. You must take it just as it comes.
Didn’t your mother ever tell you that?

MOTHER GOOSE. Of course I’ve _told_ him.

SANTA CLAUS. Here, Simon, my boy. Here’s a pie all to yourself. And
here are some pennies to buy more. Don’t let the pie-man cheat you. You
_have_ had a rather hungry time, haven’t you?

SIMPLE SIMON. Yes, sir; thank you, sir.

SANTA CLAUS. Here you, Boy Blue! Here’s a new horn. See how it sounds.

    [BOY BLUE _toots horn, marches around_ SANTA. _Children
        all fall in and march around him once or twice.
        Then horn stops, and they sing the same song as
        earlier, only with changes of tense_:]

    Oh, we planned the greatest lark you ever heard,
    It was dreadful, but oh, wasn’t it absurd?
      From our lairs behind the chairs,
      On old Santa, unawares,
    We just sprang, and pounced, and jumped, without a word.

    He didn’t know we waited here to-night,
    We surprised him, so he didn’t dare to fight.
      From our lairs behind the chairs,
      We all took him unawares,
    And we’re sure he had an awful, awful fright.

SANTA CLAUS. Here, you rascals, help me fill these stockings! Make
yourselves useful! [_They fill stockings. Sled and doll’s bedstead are
set up beside the fireplace._] Now, run! Scamper! It’s almost morning.
Get back into your book, or you’ll get caught. Run! Off with you!
[_They all run out._]

SANTA CLAUS. [_After a moment’s pause._] Mother Goose didn’t _ask_ for
a new cap, but I think she needs one. That molasses candy does make
it look rather queer. [_Goes through door, returns with Mother Goose
book. The picture of Mother Goose on the cover now has a bright red
peaked cap instead of a brown one._ SANTA CLAUS _sets book up beside
fireplace, and turns to the audience_.]

SANTA CLAUS. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

    [_Exit. Sound of sleigh-bells, becoming fainter, then
        silence, or_ CURTAIN.]




ACT II


[_Early morning. Enter_ HARRY _and_ NELL.]

HARRY. There’s my sled. [_Darts across room toward the sled. Nell runs
after, snatches his arm, and pulls him back a little, pointing to the
Mother Goose book with her other hand._]

NELL. Oh, Harry, wait a minute! Look!

HARRY. Look what?

NELL. It’s red!

HARRY. What’s red?

NELL. The cap. Don’t you see? Mother Goose’s cap.

HARRY. That’s soo! Let’s see about the others!

[Illustration]

    [_They sit down side by side with the book before them.
           As they talk they turn the pages._]

NELL. Look! Boy Blue has a new horn! It used to be tin.

HARRY. And Miss Muffet’s tuffet hasn’t any holes in it!

NELL. And, sure as I live, her spider is yellow! It used to be black.
And see! Jack and Jill have a new pail—there’s only one dent in it!

HARRY. And just look at Bo-Peep, will you! She has a pink ribbon
instead of a blue one!

NELL. And Jack Horner’s pie hasn’t any thumb-holes in it! And Simple
Simon has a pie, too! Santa Claus must have heard what we said about
their needing things!

HARRY. I wonder if he heard me say you needed a new pair of eyes.

NELL. [_Looking at him, eyes very wide and excited._] Do they look new?

HARRY. Yes, awfully shiny. I might pinch you, and see if they cry.

NELL. Don’t you dare! Anyway, maybe your hands are new, and if they
are, they won’t pinch people, of course.

HARRY. [_Looking at them._] They don’t feel a bit like pinching now,
really.

NELL. Let’s tell Mother, and show her the book. [_They run out with
book. Return without it, run over to fireplace and take down their
stockings. Holding these, they take hands, and coming toward the
front, sing, to same music as before. As they sing, the Mother Goose
children steal in behind them and join softly in the song_:]

    Oh, it’s Christmas Day, and we’re made over new,
    Nell, and Hal, and Mother Goose’s children, too.
      We won’t slap, we won’t snap,
      And we’ll never, never scrap.
    It sounds as if we’re dreaming, but it’s true.

    Old Santa Claus must certainly be wise,
    For he knew we needed brand-new hands and eyes.
      While we slept, in he stepped,
      To our bedsides softly crept,
    And he made us over just for a surprise.

    Oh, we wish that we could tell him our delight,
    Over all the things that happened in the night—
      Tokens new for me and you,
      Mother Goose’s children, too!
    He’s remembered everybody most polite.

    Oh, Santa Claus has been a perfect dear,
    And we’d like to tell him so right in his ear.
      Jack,—and you,—and Boy Blue,—
      And the rest,—all know it’s true,
    And we’d hug him if we had him with us here.

    [_When the song is over the Mother Goose children
        run out quickly._ NELL _looks around, as though
        listening or looking for something. Looks puzzled._]

NELL. I thought I heard somebody.

HARRY. No, you didn’t. Let’s look at our stockings!

NELL. All right. Only let’s get Bobby and Dot first. Maybe they’re made
new, too!

HARRY. You couldn’t tell if they were. They’re almost new just as they
are, you see.

HARRY and NELL. [_Go to door, call._] Oh, Bobby! Oh, Dot! Come along!
Come and see your stockings!

    [_They go out and lead in_ BOBBY _and_ DOT. _Grand
        scramble for stockings. Exit with stockings, or_
        CURTAIN.]


GENERAL REMARKS ABOUT PRACTICAL DETAILS

The play may be given without a curtain, but if one is available, it
may be used at the beginning and end. In the middle, it is better not
to use it, as the quiet, empty room is much more impressive than any
curtain could be.

The two littlest “real children” may be two or three years old, as they
can be piloted through their parts by Harry and Nell. The part of Miss
Muffet can be taken by a child of five or six years. Harry and Nell and
the other children may range from nine to fourteen years. Santa Claus
and Mother Goose may be taken by a big boy and girl, or by “grown-ups.”


COSTUMES

For the two smallest children, long nightgowns; Harry, striped pajamas;
Nell, a long white nightgown and over it a gaily colored wrapper. The
Mother Goose children to be dressed as nearly like their pictures as
possible. In general, the Kate Greenaway style should be followed. The
boys wear tunics of cheese cloth, over their own loose knickerbockers,
the tunics loosely belted in. Broad white Puritan collars and cuffs may
be cut out of stiff white muslin. Their edges need not be finished, as
they hold very well.

Miss Muffet, pink and white, exactly like the pictures; Bo-Peep, a
shepherdess costume of figured blue-and-pink cretonne over a blue
skirt, and big white hat. Jill, a real Kate Greenaway girl, in blue and
white; Mistress Mary, also Kate Greenaway, in yellow and white. Mother
Goose, a black waist, with big white fichu, black overskirt over red
underskirt, high-peaked hat, made by rolling stiff brown paper into a
cone, cutting it even around the bottom, and fastening it to an old hat
crown which has a narrow rim of black velvet. The joining is covered by
a narrow band of gilt paper pasted on.

The Mother Goose book should be made for the occasion, out of
Bristol-board or corrugated packing board, with pages made of brown
wrapping-paper, and the cover picture of Mother Goose pasted upon the
outside. The change in the color of the hat is easily effected in
this way: the hat in the cover picture is painted red in the first
place. Then a bit of brown paper cut the same shape as the peak is
lightly pasted on over it. After the book is taken off the stage by the
children, this bit of paper is pulled off, so that when Santa Claus
brings the book in again, the hat is red. The inside pages of the book,
of course, are never seen at all by the audience.

Real toys are put into the stockings, so that the joy of the “real
children” in pulling the things out, especially of the two-and
three-year-olds, is entirely genuine and spontaneous.

If it were desired to use fewer characters, one or two of the Mother
Goose children can easily be cut out. If more characters are wanted,
they can be added, such as Old King Cole, needing a new bowl; Tom, Tom,
the Piper’s Son, needing a new pipe; the Queen of Hearts, needing a new
batch of tarts, etc.

[Illustration]




HOW CHRISTMAS WAS SAVED OR THE SORROWS OF SANTA CLAUS


(_A Christmas Play_)

BY CATHARINE MARKHAM

PLACE The home of Santa Claus near the North Pole.

TIME The week before Christmas.

CHARACTERS

    SANTA CLAUS.
    MOTHER GOOSE.
    JENNIE WREN, sewing girl.
    JACK FROST, man of all work.
    DAME RUMOR.
    MOTHER SHIPTON.
    WILLIAM TELL.
    LO, the Poor Indian.
    ROBINSON CRUSOE.
    FRIDAY.
    CAPTAIN KIDD.
    ROBIN HOOD.
    MAN IN THE MOON.
    THE CLERK OF THE WEATHER.
    DICK WHITTINGTON.
    POCAHONTAS.




ACT I


    [MOTHER GOOSE _and_ JENNY WREN _at left, busily sewing.
        Tables and shelves piled high with toys. White skins
        on floor. Sparkling chandeliers, candles, etc._]

JACK FROST. [_Dressed in white with spangles, pointed cap, pointed
shoes, and wand. Enters at right with rush and whoop, scattering snow
and breaking icicles._] Hello, Mother Goose. Hello, Jennie Wren. Oh,
but I’ve had a hard time chasing up his reindeer for Santa Claus! I’ve
got them herded into a mossy field over in the corner of Iceland, and I
hope they will stay awhile now.

[Illustration: Jennie Wren]

MOTHER GOOSE. [_Sweeping up the litter made by_ JACK.] Dear me, Jack,
what is the need of coming in in such a bluster and mussing the house
this way?

JACK. Excuse me, Mother Goose. I just keep forgetting. My, but it is
hot here! It almost gives me chilblains. Actually, the thermometer is
only five degrees below zero in this room. I should think you’d melt,
Jennie. [_Opens a window, tweaks_ JENNIE’S _ear. Starts to skate across
the room and falls down._]

JENNIE. [_With a start._] Why, Jack, how did you come to fall?

JACK. Oh, _not_-with-standing, Jennie. [_Turns a handspring._]

JENNIE. Oh, Jack, what a bad pun! Now see if you can’t subside and not
make any more trouble for Mother Goose. You know it is only three more
days before Santa has to start off with his pack, and there are many
things for you to do to help him get ready.

JACK. Oh, excuse me, everybody. I wish I could learn calm, cool
manners. Maybe I could behave better if I wasn’t so hungry. Couldn’t
I have something to eat? I haven’t eaten a thing since breakfast but
three tallow candles, and I’m starving.

MOTHER GOOSE. Yes, you shall have a little snack right now, Jack, as
supper will not be ready for some time yet. You must attend the door
to-night, as the Auld Lang Syne Club holds its annual meeting here this
evening, you know. [_She hurries out._]

JACK. I wish Santa would let me run the wireless, instead of always
having me tend reindeer.

MOTHER GOOSE. [_Entering with tray._] Here, Jack, is a little luncheon
for you—a bowl of ice-cream, a piece of frosted cake, and some iced tea.

JACK. [_Seating himself._] Oh, Mother Goose, you are the best cook at
the Pole. Oh, how good and cold everything tastes. But where is Santa?
I thought he was too busy to leave home to-day.

MOTHER GOOSE. He went out a little while ago to see if there were any
messages at the Wireless Station. He thinks he has at last got the
wireless line in working order. It runs from the Pole now to every
school yard in the country, you know. He expects great fun in hearing
the children of the world planning for their Christmas trees and
stockings. There will be no more mistakes in presents now, for every
boy and girl will get just what Santa hears him or her wishing for.

JENNIE. [_Looking out._] Why, here comes dear old Santa now, and he
looks quite sad. I wonder if the wireless line is out of order after
all the trouble he has had trying to get connections made.

SANTA. [_Enters and flings himself in easy-chair._] Well, Mother Goose
and Jennie, you can put away your needles, and Jack, just turn the
reindeer loose again. There will be no Christmas gifts for anybody this
year, nor any other year.

ALL. No Christmas gifts! Never again any Christmas gifts!

SANTA. That’s what I said. Never again any Christmas gifts! Santa Claus
will never be seen away from the North Pole again!

MOTHER GOOSE. Why, Santa, you might as well say there will be no
more skating or coasting. Winter without Santa Claus and Christmas
is unbelievable. I can’t bear to think of your never again carrying
Christmas gifts to the children. How can you think of stopping that
custom?

SANTA CLAUS. I feel just as bad as you do about stopping my annual
visit and my gifts. Ever since I can remember I’ve been distributing
gifts to children at Christmas time; and until an hour ago I expected
to keep it up always, but now Santa Claus and his Christmas rounds are
at an end forever!

MOTHER GOOSE. But what has happened, Santa, to put this into your mind?
Have you had a fall on the ice and do you feel a little dazed?

JENNIE. This is one of your jokes, Santa.

JACK. Oh, come off, now, Santa. You almost gave _me_ a chill. Let’s get
a big box of those drums and whistles packed up for the sleigh.

[Illustration: Jack Frost]

SANTA CLAUS. No; I am in dead earnest. My head never was clearer. I’ll
tell you how it is. You will hardly believe me, but up at the Wireless
to-day, I got the shock of my life. I went up and sat on an iceberg
at the foot of the Pole to listen to what the children of different
playgrounds were saying about Christmas, and what gifts they expected,
and so on. I had my note-book ready to write what this one and that
one wanted. And—oh, I can hardly tell you—I heard children from three
different cities talking about Christmas and saying they did not
believe in Santa Claus.

ALL. Not believe in Santa Claus? Impossible! Preposterous! And that,
too, after all the gifts—dolls and Noah’s arks and bags of candy you
have scattered around the world!

JACK. Maybe they think I have been chasing reindeer to the end of the
rainbow for—nobody!

SANTA CLAUS. I knew you’d hardly believe it. I would not believe it
myself if I hadn’t heard the words just as plainly as I hear you all
talking now. One little girl in Boston was talking to quite a lot of
little comrades. “Pooh,” she said, “no well-informed person nowadays
believes in Santa Claus. Santa Claus is only a medieval myth”—

JENNIE. Medieval! What’s that? There’s nothing _evil_ about you, Santa.
You are just three hundred pounds of solid goodness.

SANTA CLAUS. Oh, Jennie, I thought they all loved me as you do; and
it is hard to find they don’t believe in me, after all my years of
Christmas visits.

MOTHER GOOSE. Go on, Santa dear. What else did you hear over that
horrid wireless line?

SANTA CLAUS. Well, some boys were talking in a school yard in Chicago,
and one of them said loudly: “You can’t fool me. There isn’t any
Santa Claus, and there never was. He is nothing but a picture in the
books, like Uncle Sam!” And he was a boy with a pair of mittens on his
hands that I’d given him last Christmas. He was that curly-haired boy
I think, Jennie, that you’ve been knitting mittens for ten years, each
year a size larger.

JENNIE. Oh, isn’t he ungrateful? And here I have another pair almost
finished for him this year, too. [_Holds up red mittens._]

JACK. I’ll give that fellow a nip yet. I’ll make him believe in _me_,
anyhow!

MOTHER GOOSE. Those certainly were cruel speeches, Santa. But let us
hear the worst. What else did they say?

SANTA CLAUS. Some little girls in Los Angeles were at the school gate
and I heard one saying, “Oh, Santa Claus will do for babies. But when
you are seven you ought to say he’s just make-believe, like the Sand
Man and such folks.”

MOTHER GOOSE. I don’t wonder you feel hurt, Santa, after all your
kindness to children. But you must remember that these were only three
out of all the school yards in the country. There must be hundreds of
other children who _do_ believe in you. Perhaps these just happened to
be the few who don’t believe in fairies, either. There are some such
strange children I have heard.

JENNIE. Oh, Peter Pan will convince those foolish children who don’t
believe in fairies.

MOTHER GOOSE. Never mind, Santa. I am sure there cannot be many
children of that unbelieving kind. But I wish you had never had your
wireless rigged up. It seems only to make you unhappy.

SANTA CLAUS. [_Sighing._] It _has_ made me unhappy. I never felt
so sad in all my life before. I shall order the wireless telegraph
discontinued to-morrow. I shall give up the wireless line and the
Christmas business altogether—Dear me, how lonesome I shall be for the
children!

MOTHER GOOSE. I shall not be sorry to have you give up the wireless
line, Santa. I can’t bear to think of your stopping this lovely custom
of gift-giving. You have made so many children happy, and so many
little believing hearts will miss you.

SANTA CLAUS. It does seem sad, Mother Goose. But I shall never have the
heart to set out again at Christmas time with the bells jingling, and
the reindeer galloping and the sleigh flashing over the snow. I shall
never again go crowding down the chimneys to cram stockings and load
the children’s trees. All that pleasure is over forever, and I used to
be so happy and so busy at Christmas!

JACK. But I should think you would be glad enough to give up that stunt
of scrooging down chimneys. Suppose you’d get stuck some night!

JENNIE. I’m sorry for the children who will expect you, Santa, but I am
glad you will not have to work so hard any more. You have given your
whole time to getting ready for Christmas, just to make other people
happy.

SANTA CLAUS. Oh, I’d gladly take all the danger and all the trouble of
that Christmas journey and all the work of getting ready for it, if I
were sure the children would care to have me come. But to be just an
intruder, it is too much. I shall never go Christmasing again. Never,
never, never!

JENNIE. Oh, Santa, don’t be so sure of that. Let’s think it over. If
you don’t go, what shall we do with all these toys and dolls in the
attic and cellar and on the shelves here?

SANTA CLAUS. Oh, have a rummage sale of them, Jennie.

JACK. But what use shall we have for the reindeer that I have been
watching all year?

SANTA CLAUS. Oh, give them to the Peary expedition when it gets to
the North Pole. Really, I’d be glad to go just as I always have if I
thought I was welcome; but you see how it is! I must not intrude where
I’m not wanted.

MOTHER GOOSE. Santa, don’t decide yet. The Auld Lang Syne Club, as you
know, is to meet here to-night. Let us put the case before those old
friends and hear what they advise. What do you say to that?

SANTA CLAUS. That is a good suggestion. These people of the Auld Lang
Syne Club have all had experience in the world. They will be able to
give me an expert opinion. I will do whatever they all seem to think
best.




ACT II


    [_Same scene an hour later._ SANTA CLAUS, MOTHER GOOSE,
        _and_ JENNIE WREN _stand in a row, center, shaking
        hands with guests_. JACK FROST _at door shouts names
        of guests as they appear R. at ring of door bell_.]

MOTHER GOOSE. I do love to have the Auld Lang Syne Club meet with us.
Santa, you must try to look a little pleasanter. Just as soon as the
guests are all here we will tell them our troubles and be guided by
their advice. So let us now cheer up and act as if nothing sad had
happened.

JENNIE. Your collar is a little crooked, Santa. Now let the smiles
come. There, you look better.

JACK. The Man in the Moon.

    [_Enter_ THE MAN IN THE MOON, _lantern in hand,
          yellow robe, and smiling face_.]

THE MAN IN THE MOON. Good evening, Santa and Mother Goose and Jennie.
I hope I am not too early. I always seem to come down too soon.
[_Stands next to_ JENNIE _L._]

[Illustration: THE MAN IN THE MOON]

[Illustration: William Tell]

SANTA. No, no. You are never too early to please us. We like to see
your shining face at any time.

JACK. William Tell of Switzerland.

WILLIAM TELL. [_Tyrolese costume, an apple in hand, bow and arrow under
arm._] Good evening, everybody, what pleasant weather! Thirteen degrees
below zero. It reminds me of our Alps at home. [_Stands next to_ THE
MAN IN THE MOON.]

JENNIE. How is your son, Mr. Tell? Is he just as brave as ever? Do you
ever shoot apples off his head nowadays?

WILLIAM TELL. Thank you, Jennie. Little Billy is well and happy. He is
always a fearless child. He is tending a herd of chamois on Mt. Blanc
this winter. Yes, we often practise a little sharpshooting.

JACK. [_Aside._] Now that chamois herding is a job I’d like to hold
down myself. [_Aloud._] The Clerk of the Weather.

THE CLERK OF THE WEATHER. [_Carrying thermometer, weathercock,
telescope, umbrella, weather bulletin._] Good evening, all. I am so
glad to be here. I had a great time getting my work arranged so I
could get off. I am afraid now [_looking at bulletin_] that there will
be floods or blizzards or something. There are so many hitches in a
business like mine. [_Stands next to_ TELL.]

JACK. Robinson Crusoe and Friday.

    [ROBINSON CRUSOE _and_ FRIDAY _are dressed in furs_.
        FRIDAY _leads toy goat_. JACK _blows on_ FRIDAY,
        _who shivers_.]

ROBINSON CRUSOE. Good evening, Santa and Mother Goose. Allow me to
present Friday. No, thank you, we will retain our furs. This weather is
so different from the climate in the tropics, you know. [_Crosses and
stands by_ MOTHER GOOSE.]

THE CLERK OF THE WEATHER. [_Tartly._] Now, that’s just the way it goes.
It isn’t warm enough for you, Robinson, and here’s William Tell who
thinks it just right. It is hard to please everybody on weather. I get
almost distracted at the complaints all over the planet. It keeps me
changing things all the time.

JACK. Mother Shipton.

MOTHER SHIPTON. [_Very solemn and important._] Yes, here I am. I came
in one of those carriages without horses that they call automobiles.
Really they ought to be called Shiptonians in honor of me, for it
was I who gave the idea of them to the world. We prophets are seldom
believed, though, I suppose, we are lucky not to be stoned.

JACK. How about 1881, Mother Shipton? Why didn’t you hit that date a
little closer for the world to come to an end?

MOTHER SHIPTON. [_Stands next to_ CRUSOE _and_ FRIDAY.] That was simply
a misprint, young man. Just you wait long enough and you will see the
world come to an end yet. Wait till 2881 and see what happens!

[Illustration: Mother Shipton]

[Illustration: Rip Van Winkle]

JACK. Rip Van Winkle and Schneider.

RIP VAN WINKLE. [_Leading toy dog._] Goot efening, good efening. So I
bring mein little dog Schneider. I am so lonesome already ven I don’t
have along the schmall dog, ain’t it? Mein frau like not Schneider
never in the house. Have you some objectifications mit him, Mother
Goo-ze? [_Stands by_ MOTHER SHIPTON.]

MOTHER GOOSE. Not at all, Rip. He seems a very pleasant dog. You must
always bring him with you.

JACK. [_Aside._] I say, I’d like a game of ninepins on the ice with
Rip. [_Aloud._] Dick Whittington and the cat.

JENNIE. Oh, Mr. Whittington, good evening. I am so glad to see you and
the cat. I have so often heard of this wise old pussy of yours.

DICK WHITTINGTON. Oh, you don’t see me anywhere without that little
mascot of mine. Here, Tabby, don’t be afraid of Schneider. Schneider is
a good little dog. [_Dog chases cat._]

[Illustration: Captain Kidd and Robin Hood]

JACK. Captain Kidd and Robin Hood.

CAPTAIN KIDD. [_Dressed as a pirate with cutlass, earrings, etc._] Here
we all meet again on this pleasant occasion. It is seldom we old rovers
have this home feeling anywhere on the globe. We go cruising around
all the time visiting scenes of old. But you know, Mother Goose, we
always make a point of coming to the Auld Lang Syne Club to meet with
you, even if we have to come from Cape Horn or Cape of Good Hope.

ROBIN HOOD. [_In hunter’s green._] Yes, yes, Santa, we look forward
all the year to this quiet evening with you. I am happier here than I
am anywhere except with my merry men in Sherwood Forest. The Auld Lang
Syne meeting is worth a trip across the planet. [KIDD _goes R._ ROBIN
_goes L._]

JACK. Dame Rumor.

DAME RUMOR. [_Spectacles and ear trumpet, enters talking very fast._] I
am sorry to be so late, but I met so many people on the way and there
were so many things to tell and to hear that I thought I never should
get here. They say—[_Goes whispering to_ MOTHER SHIPTON.]

JACK. Pocahontas and Lo, the Poor Indian.

POCAHONTAS. [_Dressed, as is_ LO, _in Indian costume, beads, feathers,
etc._] Lo and I stopped to see the Falls of Minnehaha and that has made
us late, I am afraid. We always linger at that lovely place.

MOTHER GOOSE. No, no, Pocahontas. You are in good time. You must stay
all the longer for being a little tardy.

DAME RUMOR. Santa, why are you not laughing and joking as usual? I
never saw you so downcast.

MOTHER GOOSE. Really, Dame Rumor, Santa Claus is feeling quite sad this
evening. He will tell you all about what is weighing on his spirits,
and I hope the wisdom of this good company will help him to look at
matters more cheerfully.

[Illustration: Dame Rumor]

[Illustration: Man Friday]

SANTA CLAUS. Yes, friends, I am sorry to appear so sad on an occasion
that ought to be so happy—an occasion when we old friends meet after a
long separation.

RIP VAN WINKLE. Yes, yes, I haf never so much joyness any more as in
this house, Santa. Here only is the beoples that can remember mit me
the happy times long ago.

DAME RUMOR. They say you used to be grumbled at a good deal in those
happy days, Rip.

[Illustration: Robinson Crusoe]

JENNIE. Oh, now, Dame Rumor, let bygones be bygones. Please all listen
to what Santa Claus has to tell. I want very much to see what the Auld
Lang Syne Club will advise him to do. Go on, dear Santa.

SANTA CLAUS. Well, my friends, I thought I would try the experiment
this year of running a wireless line from the North Pole to most of the
school yards in the country in order to hear the children telling what
they would like to have for Christmas.

DAME RUMOR. Dear me, I’d like to have a wireless line connecting with
every _home_ in the country! It was a fine idea, Santa.

ROBINSON CRUSOE. I wish we had had one down on the island, Friday.

SANTA CLAUS. Well, I have just got the connections made, and to-day I
went to the Pole to spend the forenoon taking notes from school grounds
in various parts of the country. And, to my utter astonishment, I heard
children in each section of the nation all saying they did not believe
in Santa Claus!

ALL. [_Laughing._] Not believe in Santa Claus! How ridiculous!

DAME RUMOR. Oh, Santa Claus, you don’t take that seriously, do you?
Why, I have heard that gossip for years, and I have also heard people
saying that they did not believe the story of George Washington
chopping down the cherry-tree. And yet I used to know a lady who
knew a lady whose cousin’s brother-in-law had a piece of cherry-pie
made from cherries that grew on that tree before George ever had the
hatchet,—yes, indeed!

WILLIAM TELL. Santa, we are all in the same boat. Don’t let such
remarks trouble your mind. It’s the fate of every popular character
to be disbelieved. People have gone so far as to discredit me and the
story of the shooting of the apple off little William’s head. Think of
that!

DAME RUMOR. Yes, William, I have heard that apple shooting
contradicted, too, and wasn’t that charming song, “In the Shade of the
Old Apple Tree,” written in honor of a tree that sprang from some of
those seeds that you shot out of the apple on little William’s head
that day?

POCAHONTAS. Santa, you must not let such gibes hurt your feelings.
My own existence has been denied over and over, notwithstanding John
Smith’s testimony. One must simply live such things down.

LO, THE POOR INDIAN. [_Solemnly._] Pocahontas is right, Santa. Don’t
you know there is a theory among critics that I exist only in the
pages of Cooper’s Indian stories? Think of just being shut up in a book
all the time!

[Illustration: Pocahontas and Lo! the poor Indian]

JACK. Wouldn’t that make you gloomy?

ROBINSON CRUSOE. I can understand how Lo feels. For it is now claimed
by critics that a certain Alexander Selkirk instead of myself was the
hero of my adventures. Think of having the ground taken from under your
feet like that! Here is Friday and here is the goat, and yet they say
there is no Robinson Crusoe!

FRIDAY. If Robinson Crusoe didn’t discover me then I am not discovered
yet, and I never made those tracks.

RIP VAN WINKLE. Just alike mit me come all dese peoples. Some beople
say now I haf not hat that nap already, and we haf not seen that game
of ninepins in dose Kaatskils, ain’t it, Schneider.

CAPTAIN KIDD. Haven’t I been ruled out of existence, too. But wait till
they find my buried treasure, some day! Then they will know that those
piles of gold were never hidden without hands. Oh, my name was Captain
Kidd, as I sailed.... Ha ha!

ROBIN HOOD. Well, Santa, they have long had me down as a fabulous
character myself, and I suppose I’m out of it. But then just think
what they say of the great King Arthur! I understand that King Arthur
and all the Knights of the Round Table are now considered merely as
a romance, if you please. So you see we are all in good company, my
friends.

DICK WHITTINGTON. Yes, I also belong to the large class of the
unbelieved-in. But Tabby and I are not concerned about what others
think. We just deserve to have friends, and then it’s up to the people
to love us. Don’t you see?

JENNIE. Well, if anybody has ever earned love it is our faithful old
Santa Claus.

ALL. Yes, indeed it is. Everybody that knows him loves Santa Claus.

THE MAN IN THE MOON. Santa, when you have been laughed out of existence
as often as I have, you can well complain. Why, I have been called
everything from a piece of green cheese to an extinct volcano! But you
never see me moping over it. I just keep a shining face, clouds or no
clouds.

[Illustration: Dick Whittington]

[Illustration: The Clerk of The Weather]

THE CLERK OF THE WEATHER. Yes, I will vouch for that. The Man in the
Moon is always beamy. And, Santa, just note how I send the rain on
the just and unjust alike, although they all say there is no such
person as I, and call the weather itself just a me-teor-o-log-i-cal
phe-nom-e-non. No, Santa, do not mind a few chance remarks. Those
children will know more by and by.

DAME RUMOR. Santa, there are still hundreds and thousands who _do_
believe in you; for I have heard children all over the world, talking
of your loving-kindness. I myself always take pains to tell what you
have brought to this one and that one.

SANTA CLAUS. Dear friends, I have noted what you say and it really
cheers me very much to find that I am not alone in being disbelieved in.

MOTHER GOOSE. Then you will forgive the children whom you overheard,
Santa, and you will not desert the faithful ones who have always loved
you?

JENNIE. And you will not think of that sorrow again, and you _will_ go
down with the reindeer as usual and take those ten thousand dolls to
the ten thousand good little girls?

JACK. Oh, forget it, Santa, and take down those horns and drums for the
boys on that waiting list. Think of the fun those kiddies will have!

ALL. Oh, yes, Santa, the world cannot spare you. We love you, and the
children love you.

SANTA CLAUS. [_Smiling at_ MOTHER GOOSE _and the rest_.] Your words
give me new courage. Yes, I will go on as if nothing had happened. I
will never desert the dear children. They shall have their Christmas
gifts as long as there is a Santa Claus.


CURTAIN [_and distribution of gifts_].

[Illustration]




The First Thanksgiving Day


_A One Act Play for Schools_

_By Agnes Miller_

    In order to make this play practicable for general use,
        the scenery and stage-directions suggested have been
        made as simple as possible. Regarding costumes, it may
        be said the play can be effectively produced when the
        children wear ordinary clothes, the Puritan costume
        being suggested by white caps and deep collars and
        cuffs for the women characters, and broad-brimmed hats
        and wide collars for the men. These accessories can be
        easily made of very inexpensive material, and copied
        from any of the well-known Puritan pictures. The Indians
        may either appear in the Indian costumes possessed by so
        many boys, or, in case these are unavailable, they may
        be draped in gay blankets and wear feather head-bands,
        which may be easily imitated.


CAST

    JOHN WINTHROP, Governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony.
    WILLIAM PIERCE, Captain of the ship _Lyon_.
    THOMAS DUDLEY, Deputy-Governor of the colony.
    JOHN WILSON,  }
    ROGER CLAP,   } Colonists.
    MRS. FREEMAN, }
    MRS. GARRETT, }
    PATIENCE FREEMAN, aged 8, daughter to Mrs. Freeman.
    SAMUEL GARRETT, aged 10, son to Mrs. Garrett.
    Chief of the Narragansett Indians.
    Young Narragansett brave.
    Man-servant to Governor Winthrop.


SCENE

    A room in Governor Winthrop’s house in the
        Massachusetts Bay Colony. The front door of the
        house opens at center back of stage, and has small
        windows on each side of it. A door on the left
        opens into the next room. The room is very plainly
        furnished, and is evidently used for transacting
        business. On the right of the front door is a
        settee, with a chest standing near it, and on the
        left of the door is a chair. Near the front of the
        stage, on the right, stands a flour barrel, and
        beside it, a table with weighing-scales. On the
        left side of the room there is a chair before a
        desk covered with papers, etc. Several portraits
        and old prints hang on the walls.

    [_A knock is heard on the front door. Enter_ SERVANT,
        _at the left, who crosses to front door, and opens
        it, disclosing_ MRS. FREEMAN _and_ PATIENCE. MRS.
        FREEMAN _has a basket on her arm_.]

MRS. FREEMAN. Is the Governor at home?

SERVANT. Yes, madam; he has just come in.

MRS. FREEMAN. Will you let him know that I am here?

SERVANT. Directly, madam. Please be seated. [_Motions them to settee,
and exit, left_; MRS. FREEMAN _and_ PATIENCE _sit down on the settee_.
PATIENCE _breathes on her hands, to warm them_.]

PATIENCE. [_Fretfully._] Mother, do you really think the Governor will
give us some more corn? I’m so tired of having nothing good to eat!

MRS. FREEMAN. Why, Patience, of course he will if he can spare us any;
but you must remember how many sick people there are in the colony, who
need it more than we do.

PATIENCE. Yes, Mother, but why can there not be enough for everybody?

MRS. FREEMAN. I hope that there may be before long, my dear. We must
try to think that our ship with provisions is coming in soon. ’Sh-h! I
hear the Governor coming! Now remember your manners! Rise and curtsey
as I have taught you.

    [WINTHROP _enters at left; bows to_ MRS. FREEMAN.
          _She and_ PATIENCE _curtsey_.]

WINTHROP. Good day, Mistress Freeman. I trust that you and all your
family are well.

MRS. FREEMAN. All well, Your Excellency, and thankful to be so in this
season of want and cold. All that we could complain of is that our
larder is getting low, so I came to see if I could buy a few pounds of
corn.

WINTHROP. [_Evidently worried, but trying to conceal the fact._] Why,
Mistress Freeman, it is about just that matter that I am awaiting
tidings. This morning I sent word to the chief of the Narragansetts
that we should like to trade with him for corn. I expect that Master
Dudley and Master Wilson, who took the message, will be back soon.
Can you not wait till their return? If our trade is good, we shall
doubtless have plenty of food for all.

    [MRS. FREEMAN _and_ PATIENCE _sit down on settee_.
        WINTHROP _sits on chair at left_.]

[Illustration]

MRS. FREEMAN. I suppose Your Excellency has, as yet, no word of the
good ship _Lyon_?

WINTHROP. Not yet. No doubt the date of her sailing was deferred.

MRS. FREEMAN. It would seem so, for Captain Pierce sailed last August
to fetch us provisions, and here it is now February.

WINTHROP. If we were all in health, the delay would not matter so much.
But when half our people are too sick to leave their beds, we long to
give them some of the comforts they left in England.

    [_Knock on front door._ SERVANT _enters at left, and
        opens door. Enter_ MRS. GARRETT, _who curtseys to
        the company. Exit_ SERVANT.]

Ah! Mistress Garrett! I was lamenting to Mistress Freeman that we had
few English comforts for our sick, but I did not forget that we brought
the best nurse in England with us!

MRS. GARRETT. Your Excellency is very kind. I could only wish that I
might do more in all the homes where sickness has entered. I thought,
however, that you might like to hear that Master Humphrey and his wife
are much better of their fever. [_Sits at center._]

WINTHROP. I rejoice to hear such good news, and I trust that you can
give as good an account of your other patients.

MRS. GARRETT. I would that I could, Your Excellency, but what with this
biting cold and our poor victuals, it goes hard with them. Is there
still no hope of the _Lyon_?

WINTHROP. No immediate hope, madam, but I am expecting that we may be
able to buy corn from the Narragansetts.

    [_Knock on the front door. Enter_ SERVANT _at left,
        opens door to admit_ DUDLEY, WILSON, _the
        Narragansett chief, and the young brave_. DUDLEY
        _and_ WILSON _greet the company, and, with the
        Indians, come forward to right center of stage_.
        SERVANT _stands in background, at left of front
        door_.]

[Illustration]

DUDLEY. [_To_ WINTHROP.] We have brought the chief back with us, Your
Excellency, as you directed, but he does not seem favorable to making
a trade. However, we can but try. [DUDLEY _and_ WILSON _then endeavor
to conduct the trade, in dumb show, as follows_: DUDLEY _beckons the
chief over to the flour barrel, and indicates to him by gesture that
it is empty. He and_ WILSON _then go to the chest, and take from it
several long and showy strings of beads, which they offer to the chief,
suggesting by their motions that the Indians may have the beads if they
will fill the barrel. The chief shakes his head. Both men urge him in
vain for some time._ WINTHROP _then takes a red blanket from the chest,
approaches the chief, and offers it in similar fashion. Finally,
after_ _all three men have persisted in their offers for some time,
both the chief and the young brave shake their heads decidedly, and by
pointing to their own mouths and showing their empty hands, indicate
that they themselves have not enough to eat. Upon this_ WINTHROP _lays
down the blanket upon the table, and_ DUDLEY _and_ WILSON _cease their
offers, in apparent despair. The Indians then file stolidly out of the
front door, which is opened for them by the_ SERVANT. _Exit_ SERVANT.]

    [_A silence falls on the company. It is broken by_
        PATIENCE, _who is frightened, and begins to cry_.]

PATIENCE. [_Clinging to her mother’s hand._] Mother!

MRS. FREEMAN. Yes, what is it, little daughter?

PATIENCE. If we had only stayed in England, we should have had plenty
to eat!

    [MRS. FREEMAN _does not answer her, but puts her arm
        around her, and turns to_ WINTHROP.]

MRS. FREEMAN. Is it not hard sometimes, Your Excellency, for all of us
to realize how much more precious liberty is than the comforts we gave
in exchange for it?

WINTHROP. You speak truly, Mistress Freeman. But we have crossed the
sea in safety; we have been kept from harm among the savages; we
have founded a colony where freedom is to be the birthright of every
citizen. I believe that we have a right to expect to receive our daily
bread. Whatever happens, we must not give up hope. I will proclaim a
day of prayer and fasting for to-morrow. We must not lose faith, for
all may yet be well.

    [WILSON, _who has been standing by the table, crosses
        to the barrel and glances into it_.]

WILSON. See, there is still some corn in the bottom of our last barrel.
May not this be a sign that we shall be fed until help comes, even
as we read in the Scriptures that the widow’s handful of meal lasted
till the famine was past? [_As the company nod approval to his words,
there is a knock on the front door._ SERVANT _enters at left, and opens
door to admit_ ROGER CLAP. CLAP _is wild-eyed and shivering, and looks
distractedly about until he sees_ WINTHROP. SERVANT _stands at left of
door_.]

CLAP. [_Impetuously crossing stage to_ WINTHROP.] Your Excellency, my
wife is dying, and my children have been without food for two days. Can
you give me nothing for them?

    [WINTHROP _goes to barrel, and scoops out a small portion
          of meal_.]

WINTHROP. [_Sadly._] This is the last of our corn. [_Looks at_ MRS.
FREEMAN.]

MRS. FREEMAN. [_Promptly._] Let Clap have it, by all means. What say
you, neighbors?

ALL. Yes, let him have it, to be sure!

    [WINTHROP _puts meal in a dish, which he is about to
        hand to_ CLAP, _when there is a knock on the door.
        It opens before the_ SERVANT _can reach it, and_
        SAMUEL GARRETT _rushes in._]

SAMUEL. [_To_ WINTHROP, _breathlessly._] Your Excellency, the _Lyon_
has come! [_The company are startled and surprised, and scarcely
believe him._]

WINTHROP. Boy, is this the truth? How do you know?

SAMUEL. Indeed, Your Excellency, it is nothing but the truth! I was
down on the shore, when I looked across the bay, and saw a great ship
entering the harbor. And as I ran up to bring you word, I heard a man
saying that Captain Pierce was even now being rowed ashore.

    [_Before any one can speak, there is a loud knock on
        the door, and as the_ SERVANT _hastily opens it_,
        CAPTAIN PIERCE _appears on the threshold._ WINTHROP
        _rushes to meet him, and seizes him by both hands._]

WINTHROP. Never was man, or ship, more welcome! William Pierce! Thank
Heaven!

    [_The others crowd around_ PIERCE, _and greet him with
        joyous and grateful exclamations._]

PIERCE. [_To_ WINTHROP.] Your Excellency, I have the honor to report
the safe arrival of the _Lyon_!

WINTHROP. An hour ago we had well-nigh given you up!

PIERCE. We have met with many unforeseen delays on our voyage.

WILSON. Did you meet with storms?

PIERCE. Many of them, one so severe that one of our sailors was washed
overboard. But our greatest delay was caused by our meeting a dismasted
bark, which we must needs tow back to Bristol. We could only imagine
what you must suffer in our absence. I, too, thank Heaven we have
arrived!

DUDLEY. Have you provisions aboard?

PIERCE. Yes, verily, a goodly store. We have wheat, peas, and oatmeal;
we have beef and pork and cheese and butter! [_Great relief and
thankfulness shown by the company._]

[_To_ WINTHROP.] If Your Excellency will ask a few men to volunteer to
go down to the _Lyon_ and help us unlade her, we shall have everybody
fed within the hour.

SAMUEL. [_Eagerly._] _I_ will volunteer!

[_All laugh._ PIERCE _pats him on the shoulder._]

PIERCE. You shall come down to the ship with me. There is plenty for
smart lads to do as well as men.

WINTHROP. Friends, I will now proclaim not a day of fasting and prayer,
but one of praise and thanksgiving for our deliverance. However
great the destiny that may await our colony, struggling here in the
wilderness, this day must never be forgotten!


[CURTAIN]

[Illustration]

[Illustration]




EVERYCHILD


BY CONTENT S. NICHOLS

(_A School Morality_)


How Everychild sought for a companion on her quest for Goodness and
Beauty, and having at length chosen, received also certain treasures.

CHARACTERS

    EVERYCHILD.
    JOY.
    MATHEMATICS.
    LATIN.
    IDLENESS.
    SERVICE.
    GAIETY.
    DISCIPLINE.
    A Page (if necessary).
                No stage setting except a chair.

[_Enter_ EVERYCHILD.]

    EVERYCHILD. Were there not voices here? I came to see
      If this could be my chosen company.
      For I am growing now, and seek to come
      Where Goodness, and where Beauty, have their home.
      I am alone; but Everychild, they say,
      May choose what friends she’ll have upon her way.
                                       [_Thinks._]
      I’ll call for Idleness, she is so soft!
      She will not make me climb, nor scold me oft.
                    Idleness! Idleness! come!

    [_Enter, slowly_, IDLENESS, _in soft robes,
          with large fan and box of chocolates_.]

    IDLENESS. [_Languidly._] Beautiful dreams
      And chocolate creams
      Are all I desire of the world as a boon.
      No heat, and no strife;
      The pleasantest life
      Is to swing in a hammock the long afternoon.
                      [_Sinks into a chair._]

    EVERYCHILD. But will you talk with me, and guard me well,
      And guide where Beauty bright, and Goodness, dwell?

    IDLENESS. No heat and no strife;
      The pleasantest life
      Is to swing in a hammock the long afternoon.
      Beautiful dreams—

      EVERYCHILD. But will you, Idleness,—

    IDLENESS. Beautiful dreams
      And chocolate creams
      Are all I desire of the world—

    EVERYCHILD. I cannot bear you! Lazy thing! away!
      I will have friends that laugh, and run, and play!
          [IDLENESS _goes languidly out,
               fanning herself_.]

    EVERYCHILD. I’ll call for Gaiety! She is so fleet.
      Her bright wings fly beyond our mortal feet,
      And she has passed all shores, and knows full well
      Where radiant Goodness, and where Beauty, dwell.
                    Gaiety! Gaiety! come!

    [GAIETY _runs and dances on, in light costume, with
        wings. She flies to and fro across the stage,
        while_ EVERYCHILD _runs after her, crying, “Take
        me!” but is left behind_. GAIETY _slaps her and
        runs off_.]

    EVERYCHILD. [_Sobbing._] She slapped me just
             because I could not fly,
      And now she leaves me all alone to cry!
      What shall I do? How shall I ever come
      Where Beauty bright, and Goodness, have their home?
      —I’ll call for Joy! She has bright hair of gold,
      Sweet songs, and dancing footfalls, so I’m told.
                  Joy! O Joy!      [_No answer._]
      “Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee
      Jest, and youthful Jollity;
      Quips and cranks, and wanton wiles,
      Nods and becks and wreathèd smiles,
      Such as hang on Hebe’s cheek
      And love to live in dimple sleek;
      Sport, that wrinkled Care derides,
      And Laughter, holding both his sides!”
                  Joy! Joy! come!  [_No answer._]
      She will not come. Alas!

    [_Enter_ LATIN, _in dark gown, with blue veiling over
          hair and shoulders, carrying heavy volumes._]

    EVERYCHILD. Oh, who are you? you don’t look very nice.

    LATIN. Stella, stellae, stellae, stellam, stella:
      Amo, amas, amat, amamus, amatis, amant.

    EVERYCHILD. But what’s your name! How old are you!

    LATIN. My name is Latin. Ages old am I,
      And many a state have I seen rise and die.
      I reigned alone in Europe many a year;
      Barbarians trembled when my voice drew near.
      To Dante, Latin was his other tongue;
      In Latin, Milton, as in English, sung;
      And many a child have I trained up to see
      How different Tweedle_dum_ from Tweedle_dee_!

    EVERYCHILD. Oh, I don’t know! You look so old and blue.
      And must I study those great books all through?

    LATIN. Yes, that you must. But take my hand and come,
      For I have treasures in my mountain home:
      Right habits, carefulness, foundations firm
      For every language that the moderns learn,
      Choice words, the source of English sound and pure.
      How say you? Can you follow, and endure?

    EVERYCHILD. But can you play with me, and guard me well,
      And guide where Beauty bright, and Goodness, dwell?

    LATIN. Aye, that I can. I know their home on high—

    [_As_ EVERYCHILD _puts her hand in_ LATIN’S _and
        advances a step, enter_ MATHEMATICS, _also in
        dark gown, with head covered, carrying slate or
        compasses._]

    LATIN. Hail, Sister!

    MATHEMATICS. Hail!

    EVERYCHILD. But who is this? And must she with us go?
      Your family are all so dark and slow!
      No, I don’t think I like you. What’s your name?

    MATHEMATICS. In every tongue my symbols are the same.
        2 × 1 are 2, 2 × 2 are 4, 2 × 3 are 6—
      My name is Mathematics. Many a year
      We’ll doubtless be acquainted—never fear.

      EVERYCHILD. But you look stiff and stern.
      Why don’t you sing,
      And smile, and wear soft robes?

      MATHEMATICS.      A mighty king
      I serve, and it is mine to teach and train.

    A trinomial is a perfect square when two of its terms
        are perfect squares and positive, and the third
        term is twice the product of their square roots.

    EVERYCHILD. [_Who has put her fingers to her ears
      during the definition._]
      No, I don’t like you! I won’t take your hand,
      For you have nothing that I want.
                                     [_Turns away._]

    MATHEMATICS.      Nay, stand!
      Stand thou and listen! Royal gifts have I,
      Gifts men have sold their mortal lives to buy.
      ’Tis I that build the house, that count the tide;
      I lay the rails, I span the waters wide;
      I teach how planets sail the ether high;
      I guide the aëroplane that dares the sky;
      I tunnel deep where mighty rivers roll;
      I plant the stars and stripes upon the pole!
      Lo, this is I!

    EVERYCHILD. Oh, let me go with you! and can you tell
      Where radiant Goodness, and where Beauty, dwell?

    MATHEMATICS. Their servant am I. I can lead you—Stay!

    [_As they begin to go off together, enter_
        DISCIPLINE, _in black gown and cap, with
        bunch of switches, arms folded, frowning._]

    EVERYCHILD. Oh, I’m afraid—I think I’ll run away.
      You naughty thing! How dare you! Go away!

    DISCIPLINE. Control yourself.

    EVERYCHILD. I won’t. I want to do just as I choose!

    LATIN. [_After a pause._] Then you must leave us.
      Ah—do not refuse
      To follow Discipline, for he is good;
      He tames the insolent, informs the rude.
      He frowns, but he will let you run and grow
      If but his precepts you incline to know.

    DISCIPLINE. Let kittens play, but men must toil and soar;
      Honor thyself, but honor others more.
      No vulgar aim to monarchs do I bring;
      Rule well thy mind, for in it thou art king!

    LATIN. Through Discipline alone canst thou attain to be
      Thyself, thy highest self, eternally.

    EVERYCHILD. Yes, I was silly. I will take his hand.
      He too shall guide me into Beauty’s land.

    [_She advances to take his hand. As he says the next
        lines, he throws down his switches, or, if a girl,
        throws off dark gown and veil, and draws forth
        a box of treasures. At the same time_, LATIN
        _and_ MATHEMATICS _throw off their dark gowns and
        veils, and appear in light garments, with flowers,
        fillets, or wreaths on their heads. The_ PAGE _may
        give_ LATIN _a wreath_, MATHEMATICS _a lighted
        lantern, and gather up the gowns._]

    DISCIPLINE. O strong young child, since you have followed me,
      No longer ugly Discipline I’ll be.
      A fairer self I show to each brave soul:
      In Beauty’s land they call me Self-control.
      Mine are these stores of treasures manifold.
                       [_Pouring into her hands._]
      My silver rusts not, nor my well-tried gold.

    LATIN. O thou dear child, that chose with me to come,
      Now shall we reach the heights of Beauty’s home.
      He that has climbed shall breathe the mountain air;
      He that has learned shall read the pages fair,
      Shall understand, shall learn himself to speak.
      Fair are the flowers on the mountain peak!
                        [_Crowning her with the wreath._]
      Beautiful words, and noble thoughts, are these,
      Fine feelings, witty sayings, grace, and ease!

    MATHEMATICS. O thou dear child, since thou wert not afraid
      Of my slow step, dark dress, and heavy tread,
      To thy small hand entrust I now this light
                                   [_gives lantern_],
      Through all the ages ever burning bright.
      Clear thoughts be thine, and Truth shall keep the flame,
      For from her altar at the first it came.

    [_Enter_ JOY _and_ SERVICE, _quickly, hand in hand; in
        bright floating dresses, with wings_. JOY _with
        wreath of flowers, a star on her head and a wand_;
        SERVICE _with Greek fillet, scattering flowers_.]

    EVERYCHILD. Why, aren’t you Joy?

    JOY.           Oh, yes! I could not stay,
      Where Service goes, I follow. That’s our way.

    [_They kiss, and circle in a little dance, which may
        end in a kiss._]

    LATIN. To guide the child they come, on high command.
      Service and Joy go ever hand in hand.

    SERVICE. In our bright home I heard the spirits say
      A child was seeking me this very day.
      Gladly I hastened when I heard them speak;
      Who seeketh Service hath not far to seek.
      Then followed Joy, the loveliest of our band:
      Service and Joy go ever hand in hand.

                   [_They repeat the dance and kiss._]

    SERVICE. Now on our happy journey let us come
      To that bright land where Goodness is at home,
      Where Beauty is, where we desire to dwell.

    JOY. Farewell, ye mortals all! Farewell!
                                         [_Going._]

    DISCIPLINE. Farewell!

    LATIN, EVERYCHILD, _and_ MATHEMATICS.
          Farewell!




“EVERYGIRL”


BY RACHEL LYMAN FIELD

CHARACTERS

    EVERYGIRL.
    HOPE.
    MIRTH.
    WEALTH.
    BEAUTY.
    KNOWLEDGE.
    WORK.
    HEALTH.
    LOVE.
    EIGHT DANCERS.

SCENE

Twilight in Everygirl’s garden.


DANCE OF THE FLOWERS

    [_The dancers wear white dresses trimmed with the
        flower which each represents._]

    [_After the dance is finished, enter_
        EVERYGIRL.]

    EVERYGIRL. How fair this little garden seems to-night!
      Small though it be, I love it well,
      For here I learned to know each flower
      By name; I never wish to leave it
      Till to-night, when a strange voice
      Seemed calling me away. I could not sleep,
      But wandered here to lose my foolish thoughts
      Among the flowers—
      Why, here’s a white rose that but yesterday
      Was just a bud, half hidden by the leaves
      That tightly curled about it! See it now—
      A full-blown rose, and opened to the night.
      The gentle winds, the moon, and all the stars!
      And thus it is with me; no more am I
      A child. And so these restless thoughts
      Are but to show me that I now am grown,
      And that my life has opened like the rose.

               [_Enter_ HOPE.]

[Illustration]

    HOPE. Dear Everygirl, these words you speak are true,
      Hark! do you hear that far-off voice? Listen!
      It is the World’s voice, Everygirl. It calls—
      And you must follow, when the World calls.
      I know the garden bids you stay,
      And yet the World is stronger; you must go.
      So, Everygirl, this night I come with cheer—
      To say that you may choose three friends to go
      Journeying with you hand in hand, to share
      All joys and sorrows that the World may give.
      Think well, and choose with care these three,
      For they shall go with you forever.

    EVERYGIRL. Dear lady, will you go with me?

    HOPE. Oh, no, I fain would go where sorrow is
        And pain, where loss has come and joy is fled.
        When all is black and dark, then I
        Steal softly in and bring with me new strength
        And light. Then tired hearts are glad,
        And weary souls rise up to struggle on once more.
      For, Everygirl, my name is Hope, and often shall I visit you.

      [_Exit_ HOPE.]

[Illustration: KNOWLEDGE

Black gown of sateen. Black cap with brown owl’s head and wings. Lamp
made of gravy-boat, painted brown. Large pen for sword.]

    [_Enter_ MIRTH, _dancing and singing to the tune of
          “Funiculi, Funicula”_.]

    MIRTH. With laughter and with joy I come to you,
        The flowers among.
      For now that you are bright and fresh and fair,
        The world is young.

      Oh, come, while all the way is green and glad,
        We’ll be so gay
      That time will touch us not. Oh, come, oh, come
        With me away.

      I am Mirth, Everygirl. Gladly will I go
      Into the world with you. And you shall be
      Lighthearted as I am, to laugh and sing
      And frolic all day long. Come, take me;
      We will feast and dance, paying no heed
      To sorrow, pain, or dark and dreadful things.

    EVERYGIRL. Oh, Mirth, while yet you spoke, I heard
      A sound of hollow laughter, and a wail
      That echoed through deserted banquet halls!
      All the bright gold was tarnished, and the flowers
      Were lying dead and withered all about.
      Oh, Mirth, I like it not, this mocking laughter.

    [MIRTH _stands silenced for a moment, then slowly exits_.]

[Illustration: HOPE

White cotton frock: pale blue tunic, ornamented with white silk stars
applied. Pale blue fillet on head with silver star.]

      [_Enter_ WEALTH, _jingling bags of money_.]

    WEALTH. Aha, my pretty one, so you would go into the world!
      See this bright gold—’twill bring you what you ask.
      All the World bows to me; and I will go
      And be your friend, and always stay
      To bring you fame, and joy, and everything
      That only I, great Wealth, provide
      For those who are my friends and followers.
      All these great bags and more shall be your own,
      Vast lands and houses, servants and the like,
      Yea, all you ask shall I bring at your word!
      I know that you will take _me_, Everygirl.
      No one rejects great Wealth, or what I give.

    [EVERYGIRL _hesitates, takes one of the bags, but
        suddenly drops it, covering her face with her hands_.]

[Illustration: WORK

White cotton frock flowered in china blue, turned back over blue and
white striped petticoat. White apron and cap.]

    EVERYGIRL. Away! Away! I like you not, great Wealth!
      Just now I heard a cry that shivered through my very heart.
      It was the cry of toiling women, hungry and oppressed,
      Working incessantly through heat and cold.
      And there were little children, too, who wept
      And struggled in the darkness of the mines,
      And in foul places over all the earth!
      The gold is theirs, not mine. Oh, Wealth,
      Begone! [_Exit_ WEALTH.]

[Illustration: HEALTH

Camp-Fire costume made a little more elaborate by bead-embroidery and
stencilling. Branch of Pine.]

          [EVERYGIRL _stands weeping_.

    ENTER BEAUTY.]

    BEAUTY. Do not weep, Everygirl! I come to bring you joy
            and happiness.
      They call me Beauty, and the queen of all
      The earth. All men look up to me,
      And smile upon me—beautiful am I,
      So shall you be, if I go with you.
      All the World will stoop to kiss your hand,
      And fairer shall you be than other maids.

    EVERYGIRL. [_Taking_ BEAUTY
                         _by the hand_.]
      And, Beauty, will you always stay with me?
      And be my friend, and never go away?

    BEAUTY. Ah, that I cannot do.
      You know that I must sometime leave you.

    EVERYGIRL. Beauty, stay always with me, never go away.

    BEAUTY. Ah, no! I cannot be your friend forever.
                                [_Exit_ BEAUTY.]

    [_Enter_ KNOWLEDGE, _clothed in
        black_. EVERYGIRL _shrinks from
        her_.]

    KNOWLEDGE. You must not fear me, Everygirl, I am your friend.
      Always we are friends. Was it not I
      Who taught you once the names of all the flowers?
      Men call me Knowledge, but I do not show
      So fair a face as Beauty; mine is stern
      And grim. No easy master am I,
      But, if you now will take me for your friend,
      I’ll show you all the wonders of the world—
      Yea, and of many other worlds, also—
      The magic of the deep and of the skies.
      If you would have me with you,
      You must search for knowledge and ever
      Shall you be filled with wild desires
      Never quite fulfilled. I’ll tell you all
      The secrets of the world, even the thoughts
      Of men and women shall be opened to you;
      And those who pass along in busy throngs
      Shall feel the mystic knowledge you possess.

[Illustration: LOVE

Frock of thin white cotton or China silk: angel sleeves shirred at
shoulder: gold paper heart on left side. Gold fillet in hair.]

    EVERYGIRL. And will this knowledge help them too, as well
      As me? Will it bring pleasure to sad hearts
      And joy to tired lives?

    [KNOWLEDGE _turns sorrowfully away_. EVERYGIRL _kneels,
        her face in her hands_.]

    EVERYGIRL. I know not what to do, nor whom to choose!

[Illustration: MIRTH

White cotton frock: points of yellow from neck, with gilded bells:
wreath of daisies, and skipping rope wound with the same.]

    [_Enter_ WORK, HEALTH, _and_ LOVE _at the back of the
        garden_. WORK, _advancing, touches_ EVERYGIRL _upon
        the shoulder_.]

    WORK. It is I, Everygirl, who am the solace
      And those who toil with me, though hard their lot,
      Find gladness in the joy of working.
      I would go with you. The World cares not
      For idle hands. So take me, though I promise not
      Delights and wild excesses of emotion.
      For the great joy of labor and of toil I bring,
      And you shall learn to glorify the work
      Whate’er it be!

    EVERYGIRL. Oh, stay with me, and never go away!

        [WORK _takes her hand_.
               HEALTH _advances_.]

    HEALTH. You see in me the thing that makes work sweet,
      Without me all the world is bitter.
      For I am Health, and with me beauty
      Comes, and strength to labor and do good.
      All things do I make possible,
      For I create a palace beautiful
      In which your thoughts may live and grow more fine
      Because of fair surroundings.
      Oh, Everygirl, I bring you health,
      Oh, surely you will let me go with you?

    EVERYGIRL. Yes, yes, you must not leave me, Health.

    [LOVE _advances; she is more radiantly beautiful
         than all the rest_.]

[Illustration: BEAUTY

Tunic of soft white silkaline flowered in pink roses: American Beauty
rose made of wire and tissue paper for scepter, White skirt.]

    EVERYGIRL. Your face I know. You are familiar to me.
      I saw you in the blossoming of the flowers,
      I saw your eyes in all the shining stars;
      Your voice was in the wind among the trees,
      Your light is in the eyes of one I know.
      Who are you, that I feel your presence everywhere?

    LOVE. I am Love, Everygirl.

    EVERYGIRL. Oh, Love, the World is calling, lead me forth.

[Illustration: Tiara may be made of cheap hat pins.

WEALTH

A Princess gown of white, stencilled in gold: robe of red also
stencilled in gold: collar made of wired net with wild carrot blossoms
sewed flat.]

    [EVERYGIRL, _with one hand held by_ WORK _and one by_
        HEALTH, _and led by_ LOVE, _leaves the garden. At the
        gate she turns and faces the audience._]

    Oh, Work, and Health, and Love, I shall not dread
    The years that are to come, with you for friends!
    Oh, stay you always by my side,
    Then come what may I shall not fear
    The world and all its strife. Perchance
    With you I can help other girls to find
    The Work and Health and Love that you have brought.

    [_A camp-fire girl in her Indian costume steps
        forward and recites the epilogue._]

    You who have listened to our little play,
    Come think on this before you go away:
    Have you three friends to go and be your guide,
    To ever journey with you side by side,
    Sharing alike with you all joys and pains,
    All the world’s losses and likewise its gains?
    A glowing camp-fire shall our emblem be,
    And ever doth its welcome burn for thee.
    Oh, come, and gather with us by its blaze,
    And in our songs, with us, your voices raise.

[CURTAIN]




THE EGYPTIAN CAT


(_A Shadow Play_)

BY IRENE WOODBRIDGE CLARK

The following little play was written for a special occasion, and was
successfully presented as a side show at a church fair. Tickets were
sold at ten cents each, and the performance, which was repeated several
times, netted forty-two dollars. The expense of getting up the play is
very slight. The screen upon which the shadows are thrown may be formed
of two or more large sheets, sewed firmly together, and stretched
smoothly from ceiling to floor, or to the platform of an improvised
stage. Several strong tables—kitchen tables, for instance—ranged in
line behind the screen, and as near to it as possible, would make an
excellent platform, for as the actors walk close to the curtain, a
wider flooring is not necessary. At each side of the stage and screen
a heavy shawl or blanket should be hung, so that the actors may be
concealed from the audience when not engaged in the performance. There
should be but one light to throw the shadows. A kerosene lamp is very
effective, if placed with the narrow side of the flame toward the
screen, the object being to concentrate the light, and cause it to
come from as small and yet as brilliant a point as possible. Set the
lamp in a box of some kind; a wooden soap box would do, with one side
open toward the screen. The box should be painted a dull black inside,
or old black cloth may be tacked in as a lining. If the inside of the
box is not black, it will reflect the light, and cause the shadows to
appear blurred. On no account use a reflector, as this would have the
same effect. An opening may be cut through the box, just above the lamp
chimney, to allow the heat and smoke to escape. When it is necessary to
shut off the light, as at the end of each scene, or at the close of the
performance, this may be done by quickly sliding the cover of the box
across the open front, and thus obscuring the lamp entirely. The box
with the lamp should be about on a level with the actors’ feet, or a
trifle higher, and should be at least five or six yards behind them, if
possible to arrange it so.

All these arrangements are behind the screen. The audience is to be
seated on the other side. It is not necessary to conceal the screen
with a curtain, for if the light within the box is entirely cut off by
placing the cover in front, and if the portion of the room in which the
audience is seated is well lighted, no shadows from behind the screen
will appear before the proper time. When the hour for the performance
arrives, a decided stroke of a bell should be the signal for every
light in the audience room to be turned out, and at the same moment,
for the cover to be withdrawn from before the box containing the lamp.
If this is well managed, Scene 1, having already been arranged against
the screen, will instantly appear to the audience in sharp, black
shadows. At a second quick stroke of the bell, the reader begins the
play. Any one with a good clear voice may act as reader. The best place
for him to sit is behind the screen near the lamp. As he reads only
during the actual performance, he needs no other light, but he should
be careful that he does not place himself in such a position that his
own shadow is thrown on the screen. The cat and pedestal stand five
feet, eight inches in height. A few other measurements are given in
connection with Figure No. 1, and with these as a guide, the outline of
the cat and pedestal may be drawn of the proper size on a large sheet
of brown paper and then cut out and taken to a carpenter who will saw
the figure out of heavy board. The cat, who has already appeared before
the public, was cut out pedestal and all in one piece from a large
smooth, pine board, an inch in thickness, the cost being seventy-five
cents. The pedestal was braced at the bottom so that the figure would
stand upright alone, but care was taken that no projection was made
on the side to be placed against the screen. A narrow strip of rough
fur was tacked all around the outer edge of the cat, except around the
feet, and this, with a fox tail, through which a strong piece of wire
was run, gave her a very real appearance when seen in shadow. The boy
or man, who managed her, sat on a stool behind the pedestal, and in
addition to working the eyes, tail, mouth, etc., would meow mournfully,
or spit fiercely, as the events of the play demanded. For further
directions as to the making of the figure and the working of the parts,
see explanation of diagrams. The lobster, spider, fishes, the maiden’s
heart, and the immense dollar used by her in Scene 2, her slippers,
curling tongs, and brushes, and even the tears she shed, were all cut
from pasteboard. Comical hats for the actors were made by taking old
shade hats and fastening ridiculous pasteboard shapes upon them. The
mice and rats which run by the cat in Scene 1, were cut from pasteboard
and were somewhat larger than life size. Four of them were tacked by
the feet to a long narrow strip of wood at about a foot apart, and to
one end of this board was fastened a small strong cord. When arranging
for Scene 1, this strip of board was laid in place at one end of the
stage, on the floor close to the screen, but the figures of the mice
were turned over on their sides, so that their shadows would not
appear. The cord which reached from the end of the board to the other
end of the stage lay along the floor close to the screen. During the
reading of verse third an assistant quickly turned up the board, so
that the mice instantly appeared in shadow, and a second assistant drew
it steadily by means of the cord across the stage between the cat and
the screen, until it was out of sight. The fly which buzzes around the
cat’s head in Scene 6 was also cut from pasteboard, and fastened to
the end of a rather fine wire, which was manipulated by the person in
charge of the cat. When not in use it was hung by a loop in the end
of the wire, on a nail fastened in the figure of the cat. In Scene
4, the castle might be represented by a clothes-horse, covered by a
heavy shawl, or by a large screen placed flatly against the curtain.
A window is not an absolute necessity, as the heads of the maiden and
her suitors might appear over the top of the castle wall. To raise
these actors to the proper height a table or a number of strong wooden
boxes may be used to stand on. The ladder was a stepladder of a medium
size. It was kept hidden behind the castle wall until the lover pulled
it out. When he had arranged it in place, the maiden stepped from her
elevated position to the ladder, and thus descended. The cat which
appears in Scene 4, is a second one, cut from very stiff pasteboard and
braced in places with strips of wood. Two screw eyes are fastened into
the wood, at A and B, as seen in the diagram of the leaping cat. Just
before Scene 4, a strong slender cord is fastened to a nail driven in
the floor at the end of the stage farthest from the castle. This cord
is then passed through the two screw eyes in the cat, and the cat is
given into the care of one of the actors—one of the rivals, who stands
behind the castle wall. He holds the cat in his left hand and the end
of the cord in his right, but allows the length of the cord to hang
loosely to the floor until the time for action. At the beginning of
the verse, “She fought until they both had fled,” he suddenly holds up
his arm, twists the cord about his hand and draws it tightly, and at
the words, “Leaping from the window sill,” with a quick motion lets
the cat go, when it rushes swiftly down the cord close to the screen,
and is caught by an attendant at the farther end, who himself remains
concealed. This cat is not nearly so large as the other, not being
over a yard in length. The lobster is about two feet in length. To the
upper part is fastened a strong linen thread, which passes through a
screw-eye in the ceiling above the stage or through a brass ring sewed
to the top of the screen. The other end of the thread is held by some
one at the side of the scene. The lobster may hang below the stage
platform, between it and the curtain, or may lie on the stage floor
until needed. When its turn comes to appear, the attendant draws the
thread and pulls it up into sight where it hangs flatly against the
screen. The spider is hung in the same manner and is held in place at
the top of the screen until time to drop upon the maiden’s head. A
pasteboard spider is better than a heavier one, as it responds more
quickly to the little pulls and jerks given to it and thus appears to
have more life. The maiden’s pasteboard heart is about six inches long.
By keeping the hand which holds it within the shadow of her figure she
may throw it from her open mouth apparently, without the action of her
hand and arm being seen. The effect may scarcely be called natural—who
could expect it would be? But it never fails to produce a roar of
laughter. Picking up the heart again, the maiden opens her mouth and
appears to swallow it once more. After which she regains her composure,
which has been sadly disturbed. Sawdust poured from a pitcher appears
as a fine substitute for cream and can be used again and again. In
Scene 3 the cat seizes the rivals by the fingers. This effect is
produced by the rivals, one on either side of the cat, placing each a
forefinger in a corner of the cat’s mouth, and holding it there while
apparently trying to pull it away. If the rivals thus caught jump and
dance with pain, the effect is increased. The serving maid who brings
the tea in Scene 5 wears a cap and apron and carries a tray bearing a
number of unbreakable wooden and tin dishes which make a great clatter
in falling without causing any damage. The tea table, a small one,
supported by a single post in the center, may be cut from brown paper
and pinned on the screen before Scene 5 appears. In shadow it will
seem to be just as real as an actual table, but of course a real table
may be used if preferred. Several dozen curl papers, like lamp lighter
quills, may be sewed to a circular piece of muslin which is tied on top
of the rival’s head for Scene 5, and covered by his tall head dress.
When this head dress is suddenly removed, the quills stand out in all
directions.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

A word to the actors. Let them keep so near to the screen in all
their acting that they actually touch it, and let their profiles be
constantly toward the spectators. The words of the play should be
familiar to each performer, that he or she may know what is coming
next, and be prepared to act on time. Many comical things will suggest
themselves to those taking part, if the play is entered into with
spirit.


EXPLANATION OF DIAGRAMS

The figure of the Cat having been sawed out of wood, it is ready to be
equipped with the other parts. Nearly one yard of cotton elastic, a
half or three quarters of an inch wide, will be needed. Also several
screw eyes of medium size; a staple to fasten the tail; a firm piece of
wire which will not easily bend, about 18 inches long; a fox tail; 2¾
yards of any kind of rough fur, old or new; a spool of linen thread No.
25; a yard or two of strong, fine twine; a few strips of thin board,
of a kind that will not be easily split, and several pieces of thick,
strong pasteboard.

[Illustration: _Fig. 1._]

[Illustration: _Fig. 2._]

To make the eyeballs. Fold a piece of brown paper, and cut out in
what you judge the proper size, a copy of the small diagram marked
X, which is shown in Fig. 2, taking care that the fold of the paper
is at F. When the pattern is opened it will be found to be like the
small diagram, EB. Pin this pattern in place on the wooden cat in the
manner shown in Fig. 2. If not of the proper size make another. When
you have a pattern that seems to be correct, lay it on the pasteboard
and outline it with a pencil. The resulting figure may then be cut out
with a sharp pocket knife. In the small holes made at each upper corner
of the cross-piece, H and H, fasten a piece of linen thread, about one
half a yard long. When the eyeballs are in place, these threads are to
be passed through the screw eyes fastened at the side of the cat’s head
at S and S, and brought around to the reverse side of cat’s head, where
they are tied together at the ends, thus forming a loose loop. Fasten
the cross-piece in the center to a central point above cat’s eyes, by
means of a screw-eye or ordinary screw, as indicated in diagram. This
forms the pivot on which the eyeballs move, and as it is necessary that
they move very easily, the cross-piece should not be fastened down too
firmly. When the linen thread is pulled at the right or the left by the
operator who sits on the reverse side, the eyeballs will move from side
to side. The piece forming the jaw is cut from pasteboard in a similar
way. Across the lower part tack a strip of wood. To the center of this
strip fasten the end of the cord, C, which is used to pull the jaw
down. Cut two pieces of elastic each 6 inches long, and fasten to jaw
at K and K, having first tacked another strip of wood across. Lay the
jaw in place over the cat’s mouth, in such a position that the teeth
of the lower jaw will meet the teeth of the upper jaw. While holding
the jaw in this position, tack the free ends of the elastic to the
cat’s head as shown in diagram. This must be done _without stretching_
the elastic. When the cat stands erect the jaw will now hang in place.
Pass the cord, C, through the aperture A, which has been previously cut
in the body of the cat. When it is desired to open the cat’s mouth,
pull the cord down; the elastics will cause it to spring up in place
again when the cord is not held. The aperture A should be cut through
the wood with a downward slant; if cut straight, the light would show
through the opening. Figure 3 shows diagram of eyelids. These are to be
fastened on the other side of the cat, the side on which the operator
sits. The figure, EL is cut from pasteboard and stiffened by a long
narrow strip of wood, running crosswise through the central portion. A
loop of cord is fastened at R and R. Two strips of elastic, each seven
inches long, are fastened at Z and Z. The eyelid piece is then laid
in place over the eyes, in such a position that the eye sockets are
entirely covered. Then the other ends of the elastics are tacked to the
cat’s head at V and V, or wherever the ends happen to lie when laid out
smoothly, without stretching. Fasten a screw-eye or hook at H in cat’s
body, and pulling down the loop of cord, hook it under the screw-eye
as shown in diagram, which will again leave the eye sockets exposed.
When it is desired to have the cat wink, unhook the loop, and pull the
eyelid piece up and down rapidly. When not using this contrivance,
always keep the loop hooked under the screw-eye, else the cat’s eyes
will appear to be closed. In regard to the tail—insert a stiff piece of
wire about 18 inches long, leaving the end of wire exposed for about 8
inches. Where the wire enters the tail at F, fasten it to the cat by
means of a staple but in such a way that it will move freely. To the
free end of wire fasten a piece of elastic nine inches long. Tack the
other end of this elastic to the cat’s body at E, as shown in Fig. 3.
Also fasten a piece of cord to the same end of wire, which may be used
to pull down the tail. It will spring up voluntarily as the elastic
draws it. The strip of fur is to be tacked all around the edge of cat’s
body, except around the feet, which would not show well in shadow if
surrounded by fur. When this is finished the cat is complete.

[Illustration: _Fig. 3._]

The operator should be quick but not nervous. To make the cat appear
life-like, he should keep all the mechanism at work as much as
possible, taking care to have her movements as much as possible in
harmony with the play. If he practises a little before the performance,
he can make the cat the center of interest. When the actors feed the
cat the operator should slowly pull down the jaw, and when the food is
received shut it again quickly. When the cat is supposed to speak the
operator should make the action of the jaw keep time with the words as
they are read. When any one approaches the cat, by moving the eyeballs
the operator may make it appear that the cat is looking in that
direction. A judicious amount of purring, growling, and hissing may add
to the interest, but it should not be too frequent.


SCENE I

    [CAT _on pedestal appears at left of center_. MAIDEN,
        FISHER, MAN WITH COD, _etc., all stand ready to
        appear in proper order. The_ MICE _and_ LOBSTER
        _are in place_.]

[Sidenote: Maiden walks slowly in, turns, and walks out.]

    There stood a castle years ago
    In Egypt by the Nile;
    Within its walls a maiden dwelt
    Whose heart was free from guile.

[Sidenote: Cat’s eyes roll, mouth opens and shuts, and tail wags.]

    Within the castle also dwelt
    A cat of high degree.
    A Sacred Cat with yellow eyes
    As big as big could be.

[Sidenote: Mice and rats run across stage, while cat wags tail.]

    Her throne was on a pedestal,
    —And there she always sat;
    She was too dignified to run
    To catch a mouse or rat.

[Sidenote: Eyes open and shut.]

    She never blinked her yellow eyes
    Except to give assent.
    To her in trouble or in doubt
    The household always went.

[Sidenote: Men enter with cream and fish, and after pouring out cream,
and offering it and the fish to the cat, disappear at further end of
stage.

Enter fisher with rod and line.]

    The cream on which she daily fed,
    Was in a silver dish;
    And seven men were kept at work
    Supplying her with fish.

[Sidenote: Eyes roll.]

    The fisher, on his cunning line,
    Brought in the eel and trout;
    The cat beheld with greedy eyes,
    And wagged her tail about.

[Sidenote: Man enters with cod, and lobster is pulled up by a string,
from below floor of stage.]

    A cod, of size magnificent,
    Was turned upon a spit,
    And by it stood the lobster, which
    Was always served with it.
                    [SCREEN THE LIGHT]


SCENE II

    [_The same._ MAIDEN _discovered seated on a stool,
        at right of_ CAT, _as this would appear to the
        spectators. Under the stool a wooden or tin plate
        is placed in readiness, also a large circular
        piece of pasteboard with the words, “One Dollar,”
        cut around the edge. The_ MAIDEN _carries the
        pasteboard heart, and a handful of pasteboard
        tears. The spider hangs motionless high above her
        head—out of sight, if possible._]

[Sidenote: Maiden puts hands to her eyes, and pasteboard tears fall.]

    One day within the sacred court
    In which the cat was kept,
    The maiden sat alone, and sad
    And bitter tears she wept.

[Sidenote: Spider suddenly drops from above. Maiden leaps to her feet
and throws up her hands.]

    And as she sat, from high above
    Depending from a beam,
    A spider dropped upon her head,
    And loudly did she scream.

[Sidenote: Maiden trembles violently, while the spider runs up and
down.]

    And while in fear she stood and shook,
    A sudden voice she heard,
    It was the cat, who ne’er before
    Had ever uttered word.

[Sidenote: Cat’s jaws move as if speaking, and she rolls her eyes and
wags her tail.]

    “Give me that spider,” said the cat,
    “For spiders are a treat;
     I’m sick of eating cream and fish,
     And tired to death of meat!”

[Sidenote: Maiden throws the heart from her mouth, and acts as if
terrified. Then picks up heart, swallows it, and turns toward the cat.]

    The maiden’s heart jumped to her mouth,
    And fell upon the floor,
    She caught it e’er its beating stopped
    And was herself once more.

[Sidenote: The maiden shades her head, and throws out her hand, as if
imploring the cat not to ask her.]

    “Feed me the spider,” said the cat,
    “A favor I will do;
     Ask what you will, it shall be done,
     I promise it to you.”

[Sidenote: Maiden slowly turns toward spider, which dances in a very
lively manner.

Maiden stretches her arm and tries to grasp spider.]

    The maiden hesitated long,—
    The spider looked so grim,—
    With mincing step she then approached,
    And tried to reach for him.

[Sidenote: Maiden takes dollar and offers it to spider. Then throws
kisses to it.]

    But every time she raised her hand
    The spider ran above,
    And she could not persuade him down
    For money or for love.

[Sidenote: Stands on stool, suddenly grasps the spider, and taking
the plate from beneath stool, places the spider on it, and breaks the
thread which held it.]

    At length she got upon a stool,
    And with an effort great,
    She had the spider in her grasp
    And put him on a plate.

[Sidenote: Cat’s jaw opens. Maiden drops spider in front of cat’s
mouth, and cat closes her mouth.]

    The cat, who watched with eager eyes,
    The spider did adore;
    The maiden fed her faithfully
    Until there was no more.

[Sidenote: Maiden shakes her forefinger at cat.

Holds up three fingers, then holds up one.]

    “And now, O Sacred Cat,” she said,
    “Pray listen till I’m done.
     Three wealthy suitors seek my hand,
     But I love only one.

[Sidenote: Points over shoulder.

Shakes fist.]

   “He wishes to elope with me,
    But I am watched too well,
    The other suitors stand on guard
    With looks severe and fell.

[Sidenote: Half kneels by the cat, and appears to plead, smoothing her
fur tenderly.]

    “Could we but have one little hour,
     In which to flee away,
     We’d never find enough to do,
     Your kindness to repay.”

[Sidenote: Cat’s jaws move, keeping time with the words. Maiden remains
kneeling.]

    “Bring them all here,” the cat replied,
    “Bring me your suitors three;
     The one you love shall go with you,
     The others stay with me.”

[Sidenote: Maiden rises to her feet with joy, and claps her hands.]

    “I understand,” the maiden said,
    “And I will tell them all
     To feed you well with bugs and snakes,
     And other things that crawl.”

[Sidenote: Wags her tail fiercely.]

    “And now,” went on the Sacred Cat,
    “How shall I know the youth?
     How shall I know which one you choose?
     Give me a sign, forsooth!”

[Sidenote: Points to her head.]

[Sidenote: Points to herself, and hangs her head.]

    “The one I love shall wear a plume,”
     The maiden then replied,
     “A high black plume of feathers rich,
     And I’ll be by his side.”

[Sidenote: Cat’s eyes open and shut rapidly.]

    “That is sufficient,” said the Cat,
    “And when I blink my eyes,
     Like this,—then hurry, both of you,
     Or he will lose his prize.”

[Sidenote: Waves her hand in farewell, and goes off the stage.]

    “Farewell,” she said, and went to find
     Her suitors, great and least,
     The cat remained to meditate
     Upon the coming feast.
                 [SCREEN THE LIGHT]


SCENE 3

    [_The same. The suitors appear in line. The_ FORTUNATE
        LOVER _stands first, the_ MAIDEN, _whose hand he
        holds, just behind him. The other suitors, in
        fantastic dress, are in the rear. They enter at
        right of stage, as it would appear to spectators._]

    The evening came, and with it too,
    There came the suitors fine.
    They had prepared themselves, and now
    Were waiting on the line.

[Sidenote: Lover advances and crosses to farther side of cat, from
which side he feeds her. Maiden remains on same side.]

    And first there came the favored one,
    The maiden by his side,
    Although she trembled for their fate,
    She sought her fears to hide.

[Sidenote: Maiden appears to tremble.]

    And as her lover fed the cat,
    She watched with great alarm,
    For cats are treacherous, you know,
    And prone to do us harm.

    The cat, she moved her solemn jaws,
    As one by one the rats
    Were swallowed down, and followed by
    The spiders, snakes, and bats.

[Sidenote: The lover and maiden kneel to cat, then in despair they rise
and move away. Both lover and maiden retreat to extreme left of stage.]

    But yet, alas! she would not wink,
    The lover’s heart to cheer,
    And so he had to move away,
    With sorrow and with fear.

[Sidenote: Second suitor of the three now approaches the cat and
appears very humble, serving her upon his knees.]

    The second suitor now approached,
    A humble knight was he;
    To win the favor of the cat,
    He even bent the knee.

    His offering was served to her
    Upon a dish of gold,
    And truly it was marvelous
    His homage to behold.

[Sidenote: Second suitor goes to left of cat, and stands with back to
cat, and head bowed in despair.

Third suitor strides up with a flourish.]

    He stepped aside, and now the third
    Approached with ready grace;
    He did not bow as did his friend,
    But showed a brazen face.

[Sidenote: Beckons to second suitor, who slowly turns around.]

    “Come on!” cried he, with angry tone
     Unto his comrade meek.
    “Why hang you backward? We shall lose
     The prize we came to seek.

[Sidenote: Second suitor reluctantly approaches cat and begins to feed
her again.

They stroke cat’s fur, and she spits and hisses.]

    “Come here beside me, we will feed
     The sacred cat until
     She blinks her eyes, for that’s the sign
     Which she will sure fulfil.”

[Sidenote: Knights kneel.]

    And so they worked with eager care;
    The cat devoured the treat,
    Yet would not wink, although the knights
    Were kneeling at her feet.

[Sidenote: Lovers appear to weep.]

    And in a lonely corner stood
    The lover and the maid.
    The sign had failed, the cat was false,
    And they were sore dismayed.

[Sidenote: Suitors leap and dance, with their hands caught in the cat’s
mouth. Cat winks violently.]

    But all at once a piercing cry!
    The suitors screamed with fright,
    The cat had caught them with her teeth
    And winked with all her might!

[Sidenote: Maiden and lover run off stage.]

    “She winks her eyes, it is the sign!
     Oh, hurry, we are free!
     A ladder bring,” the maiden cried,
     “And I’ll escape with thee!”

    [SCREEN THE LIGHT]


SCENE 4

    [_Castle wall appears at extreme right of stage, as
        viewed by the spectators. Large, strong boxes
        are placed behind, on which the_ MAIDEN _and two
        rivals are to stand, in order to look out of the
        window or over the wall. The stepladder, folded, is
        laid on the floor behind the castle wall. All the
        appliances for the leaping_ CAT _are in readiness,
        also all the articles of the_ MAIDEN’S _wardrobe.
        Rivals and_ MAIDEN _stand in shadow behind the
        wall. When the light is thrown on the screen, the_
        LOVER _is seen in center of stage, looking up at castle._]

[Sidenote: Lover struts about, and swells his chest.

Maiden’s head appears, and she throws a kiss, to which he responds in
same manner.]

    Without the castle wall there stood
    The lover full of pride;
    And at the window o’er his head,
    Appeared his lovely bride.

[Sidenote: Gesticulates wildly.]

    “Oh, maiden, haste,” he cried in fear,
     “Our rivals will pursue;
      Pray stop for nothing, we must run,
      They will be after you!

[Sidenote: Makes movements as if putting up ladder.]

    “See, I will put the ladder up,
    ’Tis easy to descend.
     If we are caught, we forfeit all,
     And this will be the end.”

[Sidenote: Maiden makes gestures of pleading and distress.]

    “Oh, wait,” replied the maiden’s voice,
     So full of sweet distress;
    “My wardrobe,—I need many things,
     And cannot go with less.”

[Sidenote: Lover reaches up his arm, and maiden hands each article as
it is named.]

    The articles she passed to him,
    With hand that sadly shook,
    Her combs and brushes, curling tongs,
    Her bag and pocket book.

[Sidenote: Lover tries on maiden’s hat, which is of a ridiculous shape.

Puts his finger through hole in slipper.]

    Her hat, of late Parisian style;
    Her slippers, small and neat,
    So nicely made, with stitches fine,
    To dress her little feet.

[Sidenote: Suddenly lover drops the articles and makes a gesture of
despair.

Shakes his fist at maiden.]

     Her lover, wild with dread and fear,
     Stood trembling by the wall.
    “What are you thinking of?” he said,
    “I cannot take them all!”

[Sidenote: Maiden leans out of window, and drops a shower of pasteboard
tears.]

    “Then go without me,” cried the maid;
    “I will not be a fright!”
     And bursts into stormy tears,
     She wept with all her might.

[Sidenote: Lover makes movements as if tying up a pack, but it is not
necessary to do so literally.]

    Her lover’s heart relented then,
    He bundled up his pack,
    And tied it firmly with a rope,
    Upon his manly back.

[Sidenote: Draws out step ladder from behind screen, and stands it up.]

    Then putting up the ladder tall,
    He waited for the maid;
    She gave a cry, “The rivals come,
    Oh, we have been betrayed!”

[Sidenote: Maiden slowly, but with apparent flurry and haste, descends
the ladder.]

    With trembling haste she hurried down,
    The ladder groaned and shook,
    Her lover watched the rash descent,
    With strained and anxious look.

[Sidenote: The two heads of the rivals suddenly appear.]

    She safely reached the ground below,
    They had no time to spare,
    For in the window just above,
    Appeared the rival pair!

[Sidenote: Shadow of small cat is revealed, and appears to be fighting
with the rivals, who strike at it.]

    But to befriend the lovers true,
    There came the Sacred Cat,
    She seized the rivals, vain their cries,
    In vain they halloed, “Scat!”

[Sidenote: Cat suddenly slides down the cord to floor.]

    She fought until they both had fled,
    She would not be defied,
    Then leaping from the window sill,
    She gained the lover’s side.

          [SCREEN THE LIGHT]


SCENE 5

    [_Within the castle rivals appear seated, with a small
        table between them. The_ HAUGHTY RIVAL _wears his
        curl-papers covered by a tall hat. The_ HUMBLE
        KNIGHT _carries a dagger_. SERVING MAID _stands
        outside the screen with tray, ready to appear at
        proper time_.]

[Sidenote: Shakes his fist angrily.]

     Within the castle’s dining hall,
     The rivals sat at meat;
    “You coward!” cried the haughty knight,
    “I know you meant to cheat!

[Sidenote: Becomes still more angry, and finally half rises, leans
over, and shakes his fist directly in the other’s face.]

    “You did not care who won the maid,
     You were not bold enough,
     Why did you not approach the cat
     With manner fierce and rough?”

[Sidenote: Humble knight gesticulates.

Enter maid with tea tray.]

    The humble knight was roused at last,
    And angrily spake he,
    He did not see the serving maid
    Who brought the toast and tea;

[Sidenote: Serving maid pulls his hair.

She holds tray almost over his head, and when he leaps up, it is tossed
into the air, falling with a clatter.]

    So to make known her presence there,
    And chide him for delay,
    She pulled his hair—he sprang about,
    Upsetting all the tray!

[Sidenote: Haughty knight laughs, and humble knight draws dagger.]

     The haughty knight laughed loud and long,
     Whereat the first was wroth,
    “I will reveal your schemes,” cried he,
     And drew his dagger forth.

[Sidenote: Points scornfully at his rival, who puts hands in pockets
and leans back, tilting his chair.]

    “Who tried with fine and foppish dress
     To win the maiden’s heart?
     Who curled his hair with papers tight,
     Until the roots did start?”

[Sidenote: At this, he springs to his feet, and makes threatening
gestures.]

    “I say ’tis false!” the suitor cried,
    “And prove it if you dare!
     I never dressed in foppish style,
     Or tried to curl my hair!”

[Sidenote: Points to his hat.

Pulls off his rival’s hat, revealing a mass of curl-papers, of
exaggerated size.]

    “Then take your hat off,” said his mate,
     And with a sudden wrest,
     He seized his rival’s head dress fine,
     And lo!—he stood confest!

                [SCREEN THE LIGHT]


SCENE 6

[_Same as first._ CAT _appears at left of center_.]

[Sidenote: Cat wags tail and rolls eyes. She may also growl softly.]

    The blissful lovers’ wedded lives
    Were spent in joy and peace,
    And from that fateful day and hour
    Did happiness increase.

[Sidenote: Cat blinks her eyes.]

    All through the changing years of life,
    The cat remained their friend;
    The blinking of her yellow eyes,
    Her favor did portend.

[Sidenote: Fly appears, and buzzes all around cat’s head.]

    She still sat on her pedestal
    In dignified repose;
    She would not move to brush the fly
    That lit upon her nose.

[Sidenote: Enter lover and maiden, from right of stage. Lover crosses
to farther side of cat. They carry a pitcher of cream, and a plate of
fish and spiders. Lover also carries a large comb.]

    Each morning with the rising sun,
    Her fond attendants came,
    For wilful carelessness or harm,
    They never were to blame.

[Sidenote: They offer food to cat.

Then stroke and comb her fur the wrong way. Cat hisses and spits, and
wags her tail angrily.]

    They fed her on the richest cream,
    And spiders by the score,
    And combed her fur with loving touch,
    When she could eat no more.

    And so the Sacred Cat has played
    Her part in great events,
    If you would see her act again,
    Admission is ten cents!

If the shadow play is not to be repeated, the last two lines may read
as follows.

    You will not see her act again,
    For forty times ten cents.


[Illustration]




THE SLEEPING BEAUTY


BY CAROLINE VERHOEFF

(_For children between the ages of seven and eleven. All the parts may
be taken by girls_)


DIRECTIONS FOR STAGING

But one full set of scenery is required, a wood scene. If the play
is presented in a large hall, the scenery may often be procured from
a local theater, at little, or no, cost. If a drawing-room is used,
a small wood scene, either mounted or unmounted, may be purchased
from Samuel French, 28 West Thirty-eight Street, New York City. Where
economy is desirable, the following home-made scenery will prove
quite satisfactory: _Background_, stretch a rope from one eight-foot
ladder to another. Hang sheets over the rope, and to the sheets fasten
wall-paper representing a forest. If a good grade of wall-paper is
selected, the effect is excellent. For the _wings_ use two large-sized
clothes-horses covered as the background, and placed to allow entrances
to front and back. The backs of the clothes-horses are hung with white
sheets, and in the garret scene they are simply turned to inclose the
foreground of the stage, representing white walls. In the last act, a
pretty transformation may be effected by means of a tarlatan curtain,
green and hung with paper spring flowers, which is allowed to roll down
and cover the background by the Spring Fairy. Or, if more convenient,
strips of wall-paper with a design of flowers, birds, or butterflies
may be used.


PROPERTIES

Two chairs, preferably gilt, for the King and Queen. A couch for the
sleeping Princess, and a robe to throw over her. This robe is made of
brown cambric, covered on one side with cotton batting and sprinkled
with “Christmas snow”; on the other with paper flowers and artificial
moss. One or more bare trees or branches. These last are not absolutely
necessary.


COSTUMES

These are made of cambric or sateen, in the brightest colors. For
King, Queen, and Page copy the pictures in any good fairy-tale book.
The Princess requires two costumes, a brown dress to represent the
earth in the fall, and one of bright green, hung with spring flowers,
to wear when she awakens in the spring. The Prince requires a suit of
the brightest gold, with long, flowing sleeves and strings of tinsel
hanging from his neck like rays of sunshine. The Fairies dress to
represent their respective parts as spring, summer, autumn, and winter.
Winter should be all in white, with silver tinsel.


CHARACTERS

There may be as many Lords and Ladies as the stage can accommodate.
There _must_ be three of each if the procession in Act II is to be
effective, but if the stage is very small, the two children who take
the parts of Prince and Princess in the last act may appear as a Lord
and Lady in the second. Two Lords and two Ladies will be sufficient for
the dance in the last act.

    KING
    QUEEN
    PRINCESS
    LORDS AND LADIES
    PAGE
                          {SPRING
    FOUR FAIRIES {SUMMER
                          {AUTUMN
                          {WINTER


TIME

    The play requires from a half-hour to an hour,
        according to the number of Lords and Ladies, and to
        the length of the dances.


SCENE

    Act I—The depths of the woods; Act II—The palace
        garden; Act III—A garret; Act IV—Winter woods;
        Act V—The awakening in the palace garden.

[Illustration: ACT·I·I·LIKE·NOT·TO·BE·FORGOTTEN]


ACT I

    [_Curtain rises on the three_ FAIRIES, SPRING, SUMMER,
        _and_ AUTUMN, _dancing in the woods. After dance
        is finished, enter the_ KING’S PAGE _with three
        letters, one of which he hands to each_ FAIRY _with
        a courtly bow_.]

PAGE. A message from the court, to please Your Fairyships.

FAIRIES. [_Tear open the envelope and read._] The King and Queen do
now request that you, as God-mama, will attend the christening of the
Royal Princess Erda, in the palace garden, to-morrow evening, e’er the
sun shall sink to rest.

SPRING. Well, Sisters mine, shall we accept the invitation?

SUMMER. It will give us pleasure, will it not, to serve so good a King
and Queen?

AUTUMN. Indeed, we shall be glad to serve the court. Besides, of all
the world, we love a baby best.

    [WINTER _enters from the back, and remains in background,
          unseen by rest. She is plainly in a rage_.]

SPRING. Come, then, let’s write our answer to Their Majesties, and we
must consider well our gifts.

    [_As they turn, they see_ FAIRY WINTER,
        _and step to right of center_.]

WINTER. [_Coming forward, to_ PAGE.] How, now, did Their Majesties send
me no invitation?

PAGE. [_Shivering as though cold._] No, Madam, not by me.

WINTER. Then they will regret it.

[THREE FAIRIES _come forward anxiously_.]

SPRING. [_Pleadingly._] Oh, Cousin, you will not cause any trouble.
Surely the King and Queen did but forget. They have so much upon their
minds at present.

WINTER. [_Violently enraged._] I like not to be forgotten. Their
Majesties must be taught a lesson. Ne’er shall they forget that they’ve
forgotten me.

SUMMER. I know they did not mean an insult. Do, I beg, forgive the
seeming injury.

WINTER. No, not I. ’Tis not the first time the court has slighted me;
but I can promise this, ’twill be the last.

THREE FAIRIES. [_In chorus, shaking heads sadly._] Oh, dear! Oh, deary
me!

SPRING. But always, Cousin, you have shown yourself so disagreeable at
court; perhaps they fear you now.

WINTER. And well they may. They’ll have good cause for fear. [_Exit._]

AUTUMN. How cross she is! She’ll cause serious trouble, too, I know.

SPRING. Let us then keep watch of her. Be ready to undo the harm. Come,
to send our answers to the court.

[_As they dance off_, CURTAIN _falls_.]

[Illustration: ACT·II·THOU·SHALT·NOT·PERISH]


ACT II

    [_Palace garden. Two chairs to the left. Trumpet-call.
        Music. Enter from left and back_, PAGE, LORDS,
        _and_ LADIES, _one carrying the baby_ PRINCESS—
        _a large doll. Procession to right; stand in
        semi-circle facing the chairs. Pause. Enter_ KING
        _and_ QUEEN, _who walk in front of_ LORDS _and_
        LADIES, _and take their places in front of chairs.
        They bow in return to the bows and courtesies of
        the court._ KING _and_ QUEEN _sit down_. LADY
        _places_ BABY _in_ QUEEN’S _arms. Music ceases._]

QUEEN. Of all the babies ever born, this is the sweetest.

LORDS _and_ LADIES. [_To one another._] The sweetest baby ever born.

FIRST LADY. Such soft and silken hair.

SECOND LADY. A rosebud for a mouth.

THIRD LADY. Her dimpled hands are soft as satin.

FOURTH LADY. Her eyes a heavenly blue.

KING. [_Rising._] Come, my Lords, pledge allegiance to Her Royal
Highness.

LORDS. Sire, with right good will.

    [_Music. Each_ LORD _in turn kneels before the_ BABY
        _with his sword drawn, kisses her hand, and returns
        to his place, walking backward. As last does so,
        the music changes to a waltz movement, and first
        three_ FAIRIES _dance in. They courtesy to the_
        KING _and_ QUEEN.]

KING _and_ QUEEN. Fairies, you are welcome.

FAIRIES. Your Majesties, we thank you.

AUTUMN. [_Stepping forward._] Graciously permit us to bestow upon the
baby the gifts which we have brought. [_Touches_ BABY _with wand_.]
With beauty I endow thee. Beauty not alone of face and form, but
loveliness of soul I give thee, so thou shalt be beloved of all the
world. [_Steps back._]

SUMMER. Wisdom is my gift, O Little One; men shall not love thee
merely, they shall seek thee out that they may learn the wondrous
secrets hidden in thy heart. [_Steps back._]

    [_Dreary strain of music._ WINTER _enters unnoticed,
        and remains in background, close to entrance,
        until_ SPRING _begins to speak, when she moves a
        little forward and to the right_.]

SPRING. And I—but who comes?

    [WINTER _moves slowly forward, but keeps to the right.
        Every one except_ FAIRIES _shiver with cold_. BABY
        _cries out. Two_ LORDS _attempt to bar her entrance
        with crossed swords_.]

WINTER. [_Contemptuously._] Do you think to prevent me with your
swords? My Lords, I am a fairy.

KING. [_To_ LORD _who stands close to him_.] Who is this?

LORD. [_Very earnestly._] ’Tis the Fairy Winter, Your Majesty. Send
her quickly hence. Where’er she goes, she causes darkness, gloom. The
flowers fade at her approach. Birds fly away in terror to escape her.
Wild beasts seek their holes. Bid her be gone, I beg you, for her
coming bodeth ill.

KING. That I cannot do upon this day of days. Madam, I know you not,
yet, for the Princess’s sake, I bid you welcome.

WINTER. You know me not? That is passing strange. But Your Majesty
_shall_ know me. I was not bidden to the christening feast as were
these, my cousins—

QUEEN. The slight was unintentional. I do assure you, Madam.

WINTER. Yet I came, and I also brought a gift.

[_Touches_ BABY _with wand; other_ FAIRIES _look on anxiously_.]

WINTER. Thou, Princess Erda, wilt grow up beautiful and wise according
to my cousins’ wishes. But when thou art become a lovely maiden, thou
shalt [_slowly_] one day thrust into thy hand a needle, and [_very
slowly and very impressively_] _THOU SHALT SURELY_—

    [_Great excitement._ QUEEN _hands_ BABY _to_ KING, _and
        faints in her chair_. LADIES _tremble_. LORDS _draw
        swords, and step forward threateningly_. SPRING
        _jumps forward and interrupts_ WINTER _just in
        time_.]

SPRING. _STOP!_ ’Tis fortunate, indeed, I had not time to speak before
you came, my cousin. Little Princess [_touches her with wand_], it must
be, alas, even as my cousin said. Thou wilt, indeed, thrust a needle
into thy hand, _BUT THOU SHALT NOT PERISH_. [_Relief on every face_;
QUEEN _opens eyes_.] Thou shalt only sleep awhile. [_Soft music._] And
I do here decree that while thou sleepest, thou shalt lovelier grow.
And thou shalt dream of him, the Shining Prince, until he comes to
rescue thee, to waken with his kiss.

WINTER. And so I am frustrated! Yet I do not greatly care. It were a
pity to lose so fair a child. Perhaps the long sleep will be sufficient
punishment, and teach this court ’tis never safe to slight a fairy.
[_Exit._]

QUEEN. [_Quite recovered, rising._] Thank you, Fairy, for your timely
aid. But oh, alas! my daughter needs must sleep—for who knows how long?
[_Takes_ BABY _from_ KING.]

KING. I do hereby command that every needle be destroyed throughout my
broad domain. Page [PAGE _stands before him_], send forth heralds to
proclaim my will. [PAGE _bows and goes off._] Be comforted, my Queen,
how can our daughter prick her finger?

LORDS and LADIES. [_Happily._] That is true, how can she, when all
needles are destroyed?

KING. And now, good Fairies, my Lords and Ladies, let’s hasten to the
feast; forget the evil prophecy, and make merry all.

    [_Procession off stage._ KING _and_ QUEEN,
           FAIRIES, LORDS _and_ LADIES.]

                   [CURTAIN]

[Illustration: ACT III SLEEP PRETTY ONE]




ACT III


    [_A garret._ WINTER _disguised as old woman by means
        of long, dark cape. Sits sewing on a square of
        tarlatan, on which has been pasted cotton to
        represent a house covered with snow. Enter_
        PRINCESS, _quite out of breath. She is dressed in
        brown, decorated with autumn leaves to represent
        the earth in the fall. She wears one large, red
        rose, which is almost ready to fall to pieces._]

PRINCESS. [_Shivering._] Ugh! it’s cold and dismal up here. Why, good
day, Granny.

WINTER. [_In voice of old woman._] Good day, Princess.

PRINCESS. [_Clapping her hands._] Do you know, Granny, I’m having such
fun. I have run away, and the whole court is searching for me. I wanted
to see what was hidden up here. What are you doing, Granny? What is
that tiny sharp thing in your hand?

WINTER. ’Tis a needle, child. See, I put it in [_slowly_] and draw it
out, so. It leaves a pretty picture on the cloth. [_Holds it up._]

PRINCESS. [_Delightedly._] How very interesting! Good Granny, do give
me leave to try.

WINTER. [_Rising._] Certainly, my child, sit here. [PRINCESS _seats
herself in the chair and takes the sewing_.] I will teach you to
embroider to your heart’s content.

    [PRINCESS _handles the needle very awkwardly_,
           WINTER _bends over as if to help her._]

PRINCESS. [_Slowly and in a vexed tone._] It isn’t so easy as it did
appear. There, I think I’ll not work longer now. Oh! oh! I’ve pricked
my finger. See, it bleeds! Oh! oh! oh! [_Falls back in the chair
asleep._]

    [WINTER _laughs softly. Throws off her cape, and waves
        wand over sleeping_ PRINCESS. _Music, “The Last
        Rose of Summer.” A fall of paper snow here is
        effective, but unnecessary._ WINTER _touches the
        rose, and it falls to pieces._]

WINTER. [_Softly to the music accompaniment._] So there, my Pretty One,
sleep. Dream of the Prince if you must, but sleep until he comes. I’ll
see to it that the time be long. Sleep! sleep! By my magic I’ll waft
you downward where sleeps the court. ’Twill be a brave prince who’ll
venture here when I have done my best. Sleep, my Pretty One, sleep,
sleep.

[CURTAIN]




ACT IV


    [_Woods. A bare tree or branch placed here and there,
        and hung with cotton for snow. If possible, stage
        should be unlighted throughout act, and a light
        thrown on the actors from the hall as they move
        about. This is easily managed in a house which
        has electric lights, for a small reflector may
        be borrowed without difficulty. Gloomy music to
        suggest winter._ WINTER _enters, dancing. The dance
        is best left to the child to originate. It should
        suggest the scattering of snow, the rush of wind
        which blows the trees about, and the mischievous
        joy of the_ FAIRY _in her work. When she has danced
        off the stage, the_ SHINING PRINCE _enters. As he
        represents the sun, his costume should be as bright
        and sparkling as possible._]

PRINCE. [_Mournfully._] This is the gloomiest spot I ever chanced
upon. For weeks, I’ve wandered here, and seen no waking thing. No
birds to charm me with their songs, no flowers to cheer with fragrance
sweet. The bare trees nod and whisper in their dreams, but I hear no
murmuring brooks or waterfalls. Wild beasts meet I none. There’s some
enchantment here. [_Determinedly._] But lonely though it be [_draws
sword_], dangerous though it prove, I’ll press on, and if I can, I’ll
break the spell that holds all life asleep. ’Twould be a joyous deed to
rouse this gloomy forest into gladsome life again. [_Penetrates through
forest to back of stage._]

[CURTAIN]

[Illustration: ACT V TIS THE SHINING PRINCE]




ACT V


    [_Palace garden. At center of background_, PRINCESS
        _lies asleep on a couch. She is covered with a
        blanket of snow so that only her face is visible.
        The_ KING _and_ QUEEN _are asleep in their chairs.
        The_ PAGE _lies on the ground at the_ KING’S
        _feet. The_ LORDS _and_ LADIES _are all asleep in
        various attitudes to the right. Stage is quite
        dark; brightens gradually as_ PRINCE _enters.
        Mournful music, changing to something bright and
        spring-like. When the_ PRINCESS _awakes, all the
        light is turned on. The music suggests the call of
        birds._]

    [PRINCE _enters from front right followed by_ SPRING,
        _who remains shyly in the background. Looks about
        wonderingly._]

PRINCE. A court asleep! King, Queen, and courtiers. ’Tis plain that
some enchanter here hath cast his spell. [_Catches sight of_ PRINCESS,
_tiptoes to couch, and stands beside her._] The loveliest maiden ever
seen! Why does she sleep? Oh, waken, Lady Fair, and speak to me. I
pray you, waken! [_Gesture of despair._] What shall I do, she sleepeth
still? [_He looks at her a long time, bends closer and closer, finally
drops on one knee, and kisses her._]

    [_Every one stirs and slowly awakens._ FAIRY SPRING
        _produces the transformation in the scenery_.
        PRINCESS, _in dress of green, with flowers, slowly
        arises, keeping her eyes fixed on the_ PRINCE,
        _who looks at her. Together they throw back the
        snow covering, showing the other side covered with
        flowers. They cast it onto the couch._]

PRINCESS. [_Softly._] ’Tis the Shining Prince of my dreams. [PRINCE
_and_ PRINCESS _continue to gaze at each other._]

KING. [_Regarding the_ PRINCE _with astonishment, to_ PAGE.] Who is the
noble stranger? Why did you not announce him?

PAGE. [_Rubbing his eyes sleepily._] Indeed, Your Majesty, I did not
hear him enter. I think I was asleep.

QUEEN. I, too, feel strangely drowsy; have I had a nap?

PRINCE. That you have, Gracious Queen, you and all your court. I doubt
not a spell was cast upon you here.

PRINCESS. [_Coming forward and speaking dreamily._] I do remember now.
I pricked my finger with a needle which an ancient dame did give to me.
At once my eyelids closed, but yet I heard her murmur, “Sleep until the
Shining Prince shall come.” [_Turns and courtesies to_ PRINCE, _who
makes her a low bow._] And that is you, I thank you, sir.

KING. ’Tis the evil prophecy fulfilled.

QUEEN. It must be so. But the long sleep is over, waking-time has come.
Our daughter lives, and is more beautiful than ever. Let us thank the
noble Prince [_courtesies to him_] who has brought us joy, and let us
celebrate with song and dancing.

PRINCE. But first I must ask permission to wed this lovely maid whom I
awakened.

KING _and_ QUEEN. We give permission gladly, if the maid herself
consents.

PRINCE. What say you, Lovely Princess, will you marry me?

PRINCESS. I will, O Shining Prince.

    [SPRING _crowns them with flowers._ PRINCE _kneels and
        kisses_ PRINCESS’S _hand. Wedding march. Procession
        about stage_, PRINCE _and_ PRINCESS, KING _and_
        QUEEN, LORDS _and_ LADIES, _forming themselves
        in sets for the minuet. Then two other_ FAIRIES
        _dance in and take their places on the couch,
        where they keep time to music with wands. Dance
        one figure of minuet. If children find this too
        difficult, the simpler and more lively lancers may
        be substituted._]

    [_At conclusion of the dance, all the actors group
        themselves on the stage and make their final bow to
        the audience._]

[CURTAIN]

[Illustration]




LORD MALAPERT OF MOONSHINE CASTLE


BY E. S. BROOKS

PERSONS IN THE PLAY

    LORD MALAPERT.
    MARIANA.
    THE SENESCHAL.
    CICELY.
    THE MAN IN THE MOON.
    FLICK.
    FLOCK.
    MAIDS OF HONOR.
    GUARDS AND VASSALS.

        [ARGUMENT: MISTRESS CICELY, from
    overmuch reading of fairy tales, dreams more of what
    she would like to be and like to have, than of what she
    is and has. A curious adventure recalls her to herself
    and shows her that contentment is better than wealth,
    and that what we are is often better than what we think
    we should like to be.]


COSTUMES, PROPERTIES, ETC.

    LORD MALAPERT: Boy of 14. Fancy court suit,
        over which he wears, at first, a modern duster or
        ulster, and traveling cap.

    THE SENESCHAL OF THE CASTLE: Boy of 16.
        Sober-colored court suit, white wig and beard; long
        staff; heavy gilt chain on neck; belt and large
        bunch of keys. Pompous and important manner.

    THE MAN IN THE MOON: Boy of 13. Dull-brown
        tights and stockings; short blouse; long cape;
        Phrygian cap; long beard; spectacles, cane, and
        bag; piece of cake for porridge.

    CICELY: Bright girl of 11 or 12. Pretty modern
        dress.

    MARIANA, AND THREE MAIDS OF HONOR: Girls of
        12. Semi-fairy dresses; wings; wands; wreaths in
        hair.

    FLICK AND FLOCK: Boys of 6 or 8. Fancy
        dresses if possible, or may be dressed as oriental
        mutes,—blacked skin; white suit.

    FOR THE CHORUS OF GUARDS AND VASSALS: Fancy
        and fairy dresses.


THE SCENERY

Stage set at first as garden scene. Imitation green mound or fancy
garden chair at right toward front of scene. A heavy green curtain
should hang behind this and across the stage; this curtain, parting at
the time indicated, discloses the castle.

The castle can be made of paper or cloth on light frames. It should
be castellated, with open doorway and steps in front. But as no one
enters, the castle need not be strongly built. The stage setting can be
left to the taste and facilities of the managers.


THE MUSIC

Appropriate music should be played as accompaniment and during waits.
The airs for the choruses can be selected by any one familiar with
pretty or popular airs. So, too, if there are good singers in the cast,
some solos can be arranged, and thus give variety to the performance.


THE PLAY

                                           [_Low music._]
    CICELY discovered—or she may enter and seat
        herself—reading a book. Lost in reverie, she lets
        the book fall from her lap, and, clasping her hand
        behind her head, says (or sings) ruefully:

    CICELY.
      Oh, life is so dreary, and life is so dull,
        And life is so weary withal;
      Nor pleasures can cheer me, nor slumbers can lull,
        Nor can I lost day-dreams recall.

      The sun may shine brightly, the daisies may gleam,—
        To me, though, it mattereth not.
      The winds that blow lightly oft sour the cream,
        And the sun on the daisies is hot.

      I sigh for the hopeless; I yearn for a sphere;
        I am waiting for something to come.
      Our dolls are but sawdust, and life’s but a tear;
        I am sick of the world’s prosy hum.

      No prince comes to wake me—all glittering and tall;
        No fairies will rise at my need.
      Oh, come, Prince, and take me from dull duty’s thrall!
        Ah, no? Then I’ll dream as I read.

[_Reads aloud._] “Then the Prince, all glittering in his silver suit,
walked rapidly up the palace corridors, past the guards and soldiers,
past the vassals and retainers, past the courtiers, the lords and
the ladies, past the King and the Queen—all fast asleep—to where on
a golden couch the beautiful Princess lay, wrapped in a death-like
slumber. Marveling much at her wondrous beauty, the Prince bent
over the closed lids, and, all trembling with eagerness, kissed the
half-opened lips.

“With brazen clangor the palace clock struck the hour of noon. There
was a start, a murmur, a sudden awakening. King, Queen, and court threw
off their century sleep, and passed to their several duties. But the
Princess, meeting the beaming eyes of the brave and handsome Prince,
recognized at once the hero of her dream, and greeted him with an
entrancing smile. Then, rising quickly from her couch, a charming blush
suffusing her beautiful face, she took his hand, and leading him to the
King, her father, said:

“‘Behold, my Lord, the husband whom the fairies have sent me!’

“And the King, looking upon the young Prince, loved him so exceedingly
that he gave them both his blessing.

“So the gallant Prince and the beautiful Princess were married with
great pomp and ceremony, and lived happily together ever after.”

    CICELY. [_Sits in reverie a moment, and then says,
            sadly_:]
        Heigh ho, so the world goes!
          How dreary my years!
      What bliss if the fables were true!
        But the world is _so_ dull
          With its hopes and its fears—
      I will sleep and will dream, Prince, of you.
                                  [_Sleeps._]

    [_Enter_ LORD MALAPERT, _in traveling costume;
         carpet-bag in one hand, compass in the other_.]

    LORD M.
      This way my fairy compass points;
        This way the stars have led;
      This way [_sees_ CICELY]—ah, yes,
            the stars are right—
      There rests a maiden’s head.

      What ho, my trusty servitors!

      [_Enter_ FLICK _with rifle, and_ FLOCK _with fishing-rod_.]

        My vassals tried and true!
      Bear quickly off my carpet-bag,
        My rod and rifle, too.
      Here mortal game lies handier
        Than fish, or bird, or deer.
      Wait till you hear my whistle call,
        Then haste ye quickly here.

      [FLICK _and_ FLOCK _exeunt with bag,
            rod, etc._]

    LORD M. [_Investigating._]
      A girl? A pearl! And I am sent
        To set her life in tune.
      To soothe her with my blandishment
        And take her—to the Moon.
      For only there (so fairy lore
        This truth doth well profess)
      Can earth’s confirmed repiners find
        Their highest happiness.

      Now, Fairy Guardians, while I kneel
        Before this sleeping maid,
            In silvery streams
            Pour o’er her dreams
        Your moonstruck serenade.

      [_Kneels at head of couch._]

      [_See prefatory note about music._]

    CHORUS. [_Behind the curtain._]
        Where moonbeams glow
        On hills of snow,
      And twinkling star-lamps flutter;
        Where moonbeams pale,
        In azure, sail
      Beyond the uttermost utter;
        There, Dreamer fair,
        On golden stair,
      Wide opes the palace portal;
        And at the gates
        The Prince awaits
      His mooning, maiden mortal.

          Pale moon,
          Sail, moon,
      To the uttermost utter;
          Soon shine,
          Moon, shine,
      Where the star-lamps flutter.

    LORD MALAPERT. [_Rising._]
          Now, fairy spell,
          Work true and well,
      Let earth-born needs forsake her;
          O Lady Moon,
          Our lives attune,
      As by this kiss I wake her!

          [_Kisses her._]

    CICELY. [_Starting._]
              Oh, what was that!

    LORD M.           ’Twas I.

    CICELY.         Why, who are you?

    LORD M. [_Bowing low._]
            Your fond admirer.

    CICELY.        Ah, my dream is true!

    LORD M.
          Behold your slave—!
          At home, both peer and vassal.

          [_Throws off duster, and displays his princely costume._]

      Hail me—Lord Malapert of Moonshine Castle!

    CICELY.     O-o-oh! And you’ve come—?

    LORD M.
            To bear you far away,
            Where over azure seas
            The moonbeams play;
      And all our lives shall be one twilight story,
      While o’er our palace streams the Moon’s pale glory.

    CICELY.
      What! Can I leave this earth, so dull and prosy.
      For palace halls and life all fair and rosy?

    LORD M.
      Aye, that you can, and find your humblest vassal
      In me—Lord Malapert of Moonshine Castle.
                                       [_Bows._]

    CICELY.
        Then am I ready. To the Moon I’ll flee,
        Dearest Lord Malapert, to rule with thee.
        How shall we go?

    LORD M.           Not in the steam-cars tropic,
      With quarters cramped and comforts microscopic;
      Not by slow stages nor unsafe balloon
      Shall we attain our palace in the Moon;
      But by his private air-line will your vassal
      Bear Lady Malapert to Moonshine Castle.
                                          [_Whistles._]
        What ho, my trusty servitors!
          Bring rifle, rod, and bag;
        Come hither, Flick; come hither, Flock.
          Let not your footsteps lag.

    [_Enter_ FLICK _and_ FLOCK _bearing the Magic Carpet—a
        bright piece of carpeting some three feet square,
        with long cord and fancy tassel at upper left-hand
        and right-hand corners._]

    ’Tis well. Now, spread upon the earth
      Your wondrous roll; and soon
    We’ll on our Magic Carpet soar
      Serenely to the Moon.

    [_They unroll the carpet._ LORD MALAPERT _conducts_
        CICELY, _who seats herself upon the carpet, while
        he kneels beside her, and_ FLICK _and_ FLOCK _stand
        behind, each at a corner, and hold the tassels.
        Arrange the group in as pretty a tableau as possible._]

    LORD M.
      Now Flick, now Flock, your stations take;
        Hold each a steering-tassel;
      While Lord and Lady Malapert
        Mount up to Moonshine Castle.

                                  [_Tableau._]

    [CHORUS _begins behind the curtain. Curtain slowly
        parts, disclosing Moonshine Castle with_ GUARDS,
        VASSALS, _and_ MAIDS OF HONOR _prettily grouped in
        front_; SENESCHAL _in middle._]

    CHORUS OF WELCOME.         [_See Music Note._]
      Where the twilight hues are flushing
        All the sky with amber light,
      Where the winds are rushing, rushing,
        Through the portals of the night;
      There, the dying sunset paling,
        With our moonbeams weird and wan,
      Joy we o’er the daylight failing,
        As our welcome echoes on.
            Hail ye! Hail ye!
            Welcome home!
      Lord and lady, welcome home!

    [_As the chorus ceases_, LORD MALAPERT _conducts_
        CICELY _to a seat at left, and_ FLICK _and_ FLOCK
        _gather up the carpet_.]

    LORD M. [_Standing by_ CICELY’S _side_.]
      Thus, fairest Cicely, doth every vassal
      Welcome the Malaperts to Moonshine Castle.

    CICELY.
      Oh, this is life! Good-by to earth’s dull duty.
      This is my palace; this my realm of beauty.

    SENESCHAL. [_With important manner, advancing and bowing low._]
      Most noble lord and lady,
      Your humble Seneschal
      With pleasure bids you welcome
      To Moonshine Castle’s hall.
      I speak for all the Moon-folk
      Our words of hearty cheer.
      On this, your glad home-coming,
      Your vassals’ greeting hear:—
      Where mighty Tycho’s[4] summits
      Uplift their peaks of snow,
      Where gray Serenitatis[5]
      In moonlight gleams below;
      From where great Sinus Iridum
      Its highland bulwark rears,
      To where on Mare Crisium[6]
      The verdure-belt appears;
      From rock and plain and crater,
      From caverns vast and deep,
      From town and hall and castle,
      And lava-covered steep,
      The notes of joy upswelling
      In sounding chorus come,
      To lord and lady telling
      A happy welcome home.
      Within, the banquet waits you;
      Without, the moonbeam flirts;
      Welcome to Moonshine Castle,
      Home of the Malaperts!

[4] Mountains, plains, and valleys in the Moon.

[5] Mountains, plains, and valleys in the Moon.

[6] Mountains, plains, and valleys in the Moon.

    LORD M.
          Thanks, worthy Seneschal;
          But, ere we seek the hall,
          I must affairs of state
          In council contemplate.
          Tell me, I pray you, then,
          Wisest of serving-men,
          Can you no maiden fair
          (Child of the moonlight rare)
          Into a maid convert
          For Lady Malapert?

    SENESCHAL. [_Pointing to_ MARIANA.]
        Here’s Mariana,—with her sisters three.

    LORD M.
        Your Maids of Honor, dearest Cicely.

    CICELY.
      Thanks to your lordship for your care of me.

    SENESCHAL. Go, maidens all;
          Wait on your lady fair.
             [_They stand behind_ CICELY’S _chair_.]

    MARIANA.
          Gladly the task we’ll share.

    SENESCHAL. [_Bowing to_ CICELY.]
          None can with her compare!

    CICELY. [_With dignity._]
              Thanks, Seneschal.

    LORD M.
          Here, with your ladies, wait,
          While the affairs of state
          Briefly I now debate
            In council hall.

    CICELY. Stay not too long, I pray!

    LORD M. [_Kissing her hand._]
                      Adieu!

    SENESCHAL.      My lady may
          Here with much comfort stay.

    CICELY. Thanks, Seneschal.

    [_Exeunt_ SENESCHAL _and all but_ MAIDS OF HONOR _and_
        FLICK _and_ FLOCK.]

    CICELY.
      I have my wish! Now am I queen at last;
      How dismal seem the duties of the past.
      Here may I reign in joy; here _all_ I hold—
      Fair Mariana, does it not seem cold?

    MARIANA.
        Oh, no, my lady,—warm, it seems to me.
        Our rare Moon climate cannot milder be.

    CICELY.
      I feel quite chilly; kindly throw your shawl
      Over my shoulders.

    MARIANA.       I have none at all.

    CICELY.
      No shawls nor wraps?

    MARIANA.      Why, dearest lady, no.
      We need no wrappings as do you below.
      Here heat and cold to us seem not to matter.
      _We_ feel no changes.

    CICELY.       How my teeth do chatter!
        And I am hungry. Ladies, I entreat,
        Kindly procure me something good to eat.

    MARIANA. [_Puzzled._]
      To eat? Why, dearest lady, what is that?

    CICELY. [_In despair._]
        Oh, what is what?

    MARIANA.          To eat?

    CICELY.          Why, every _cat_
      Knows that to eat is to stay hunger’s craving.

    MARIANA. [_Complacently._]
      We know no hunger.

    CICELY. [_Indignantly._] How you are behaving!
      Of course you eat; why, you _must_ eat to live.

    MARIANA.
      We feast our eyes, but naught our bodies give.

    CICELY.
      Oh, I shall die! What’s in the banquet-hall?

    MARIANA.
      Here Flick, quick, Flock, run for the Seneschal!

    SENESCHAL. [_Entering hurriedly._]
      What now?

    MARIANA. Our lady’s dying of despair.

    CICELY.
      Show me, O Seneschal, your bill of fare.

    SENESCHAL.
      The _ménu_ for the banquet? Here!
                            [_Produces roll._]

    CICELY.                    Oh, read!
      What does it offer? Let me know with speed!

    SENESCHAL. [_With gusto, reading ménu._]
      Ahem! First: Moonbeams served on amber ice.
      Next: Lunar rainbows—for each guest a slice.
      Then—liquid moonshine, crowned with frozen sauce,
      With cups of night-dew make a luscious course,
      And—for dessert: bright starlight, clear and cold,
      With rays of moonlight served on plates of gold.

    CICELY. [_Shivering._]
      Oh, horrible! Oh, for our kitchen table!

    SENESCHAL.
      I trust your ladyship to feast is able.

    CICELY. [_Pettishly._]
      No, I am starving.

    MARIANA.        Starving?

    SENESCHAL.       Quickly cut her—

    MARIANA.
      A slice of moonshine?

    CICELY.         No—of bread and butter!
      Oh, is there nothing in the Moon to eat?

    SENESCHAL. [_Pointing to ménu._]
      Why, is there nothing in this princely treat?

    CICELY. [_Disgusted._]
      What? Frozen moonbeams heaped on icy hummocks!

    MARIANA. [_Indignantly._]
        We feast our eyes; you earth-folk—cram your stomachs!

    CICELY.
      Would I were _on_ the earth! I’m cold and starving;
      I’d give my palace to see Papa carving.

    MARIANA.
      What can we do?

    CICELY.         Go call my lord.

    MARIANA.
      What, what, my lady? From the council-board?

    SENESCHAL.
      Fairies and Moon-folk all have work to do.
      We have our duties quite as well as you.
      Pray be content—forget your earth-born cravings.

    CICELY.
      I’m cold and hungry—can I live on _shavings_?
      Slices of moonbeams may for fairies do.
      Oh, for the meanest home-dish—hash or stew!

    MARIANA.
              There’s a man in the Moon,
              So I’ve heard people say,
              Who once went to the earth
              By a roundabout way,
              And perhaps he may know—

    CICELY. [_Interrupting._]
            Oh, then, Flock, and then Flick,
            Find the man, I implore,
            And return with him. Quick!

      [_Sinks back in her chair. Exeunt_ FLICK _and_ FLOCK.]

    MARIANA. [_To_ SENESCHAL,
                        _both coming forward_.]
              There, worthy Seneschal;
              That’s what I said.
              Mortals and Moon-folk
              Should never be wed;
      What with their earth-born cravings and misgivings,
      They _can’t_ appreciate our higher livings;
      Why, the Moon’s meanest slave and humblest vassal
      Is fitter far to rule in Moonshine Castle.

    SENESCHAL.
        Peace, Mariana! Question not the cause.
        The fairies tell us, in their simple laws,
        That those dissatisfied with earth, must be
        By bitter lessons taught the truth to see.
        Contentment, so they say, than wealth is better;
        He who would read must first learn every letter.

      [_Enter_ FLICK _and_ FLOCK, _with the_ MAN IN THE MOON.]

    CICELY.
      Well, Flick; well, Flock; found you the one you went for?

    FLICK _and_ FLOCK. [_Together._]
      Ah, yes, my lady; here’s the man you sent for.

    MAN IN THE MOON.
          I’m the Man in the Moon,
          Who once went down too soon,
      To inquire the way to Norwich;
          And I found, I may say,
          Nothing nice on the way
      But a morsel of cold plum-porridge.
          For the Man in the South,
          Who had just burnt his mouth
      By eating this cold plum-porridge,
          Said: “The earth is no good;
          I’d return, if I could,—
      You’ll never be happy in Norwich.”
          So, back to the Moon
          I returned very soon,
      Nor troubled myself about Norwich;
          But the Man in the South—
          Who had just burnt his mouth—
      Made me take off his cold plum-porridge.

    CICELY. Give me a piece!

    SENESCHAL. Cease, lady, cease;
        For here’s my lord returning.

    LORD M. Why, Cicely!
      What’s this I see?

    CICELY. [_Running toward him._]
      For porridge I am yearning.

    LORD M.
      I thought your earth-born needs had fled,
        When to the Moon we scurried.

    CICELY. [_Petulantly._]
      Would I were back on earth again,—
        I’d never more be worried.

    LORD M.
      What! Leave your palace and your court
        For dull earth’s duller duties?

    CICELY.
      Ah, yes! In them there’s more of sport
        Than ’midst your moonlight beauties.
      I thought to find supreme delight
        In this ethereal station;
      I’m hungry, cold, and homesick in
        Your unsubstantial nation.
      You feast on shades and shadows here—
        You’ve neither warmth nor feeling.
      Oh, send me back to earth again!
        My grief there’s no concealing.
                                  [_Weeps._]

    LORD M.
      You’re here, my dear; and fairy laws
        Admit of no reversal;
      The fairies meant your discontent
        To be the _last_ rehearsal.
      Here you have come, here must you stay,—
        ’Tis ordered so, and fated;
      So, dry your tears—in forty years
        You _may_ be acclimated.

    CICELY. Forty years! Dear, oh, dear!
              What words do I hear?—
      But, please, mayn’t he give me some porridge?

    MAN IN THE MOON. [_Confidentially to_ LORD M.]
          I’m the Man in the Moon,
          Who once went down too soon
      To inquire the way to Norwich—

    LORD M. [_Waving him off._]
          Oh, I’ve heard that before;
          You’re a tedious old bore,
      With your story of cold plum-porridge.

    CICELY. Bid him give me a piece,
      That my hunger may cease.

    MAN IN THE MOON.
      Here’s a slice, lady, brought from Norwich.

    CHORUS OF WARNING.      [_See Music Note._]
                Stay, stay, stay!
                Turn her hand away!
      Whoso eats the porridge leaves our moonlit halls.
                Pray, pray, pray,
                Send the man away;
      If she eats the porridge, down to earth she falls.

    CICELY. [_Snatching porridge and taking a bite._]
          I have eaten! I’m free!
          How rejoiced I shall be
      When down to the earth I am dropping?
          Oh! I’m dizzy! I freeze!
          Good-by, Moon-folk! Now, please,
      Let me tumble straight home without stopping.

          [_Falls into_ LORD M.’S _arms—asleep_.]

    LORD M. Here, Flock; here, Flick;
      The carpet! Quick!

    [FLICK _and_ FLOCK _spread Magic Carpet
                      in center-front_.]

      Take each a steering-tassel.
          Down, down, we go,
          To earth below;
      Good-by to Moonshine Castle.

    [_Tableau as before._ LORD M. _supporting_ CICELY, _while
          the curtain closes during the following chorus_:]

    CHORUS OF FAREWELL.      [_See Music Note._]

            From the moonlight
            Through the starlight,
      From the twilight to the day;
        Ever falling, falling, falling.
      To the sunlight and the day—
        Fare thee well, for ever, ever;
      Mortal may not wed with fay.
        Find content in duty’s calling;
      Mortal may not wed with fay.
        Fare thee well, for ever, ever;
      Mortal may not wed with fay.

                              [_Curtain closes._]

    LORD M.
      Now, Flick; now, Flock; the couch prepare;
      We’ll lay the sleeping maiden there,
          And, hastening fast away,
      We’ll search for other dreaming maids,
      Who sigh for princes, courts, and glades,
      And weep because the vision fades
          While duty comes to stay.

    [_Leads_ CICELY, _still asleep, to couch or bank_.]

      Rest, Maiden, in your home once more;
      Content with life, seek not to soar,
      But love and patience evermore
          Still to your work be bringing.
      For daily duty brightly done
      Is half life’s battle bravely won;
      Through parting clouds will break the sun
          And set the birds a-singing.

      What ho! my trusty servitors,
        My vassals tried and true!
      Come follow, follow, follow me—
        We’ve other work to do.
      For duty comes, as duty must,
        To Prince as well as vassal.
      Wake, Maiden! Vanish Malapert,
        The Lord of Moonshine Castle!

    [_Exeunt_ LORD M., FLICK _and_ FLOCK.]

    CICELY. [_Waking._]
      Am I awake? Oh, what a dream!
        It seems so strange and queer
      To be—Where am I? Oh, how nice
        To know that home is here!
                        [_Advances._]

      Well, life is life, and work is work,
        And I will try to do
      Whatever work life brings to me,
        And to myself be true.
      I think that from this summer dream
        I’ve learned this lesson well:
      Contentment is life’s sweetest sauce.

             [_Bell rings._]

      There goes the dinner-bell!   [_Joyfully._]

                                    [_Exit._]

             [CURTAIN]

[Illustration]




LITTLE FOLK IN GREEN


(_An outdoor fairy play for children_)

BY ELIZABETH WOODBRIDGE

    [_Scene. A meadow or grassy spot, with trees and bushes
        in the background. Enter, young_ MOTHER, _with very
        little boy dressed in green. As she speaks an old_
        WITCH _hobbles in at back, and pauses to listen and
        peer at them_.]


SCENE I

    MOTHER.
      Now little Boy-green, I’ll leave you here.
      The sun is high and the sky is clear.
      Dear little lad in your coat of green!
      Prettiest laddie that e’er was seen!

    WITCH. [_Muttering._]
           Green cloak,
              Fairy folk!
                 Green cloak,
                    Fairy folk!
                 [WITCH _hobbles slowly off_.]

    MOTHER. [_Bending over the boy and putting
                         her arms around him._]
      Fairies! You hear what the old witch said?
      I wish I had dressed you in blue instead!
      ’Tis the fairies’ color you wear to-day,
      So be careful not to go far away!
      Don’t let the fairies capture you,
      Or they’ll make you into a fairy too.
      A beautiful fairy you’d surely make,
      But your mother’s heart, it would surely break,
      So, little Boy-green, stay here and play,
      And Mother will not be long away.

    [MOTHER _goes out, looking back wistfully now and again
        at the little boy. When she is out of sight, the
        boy sits down in the grass with a toy that she has
        given him. After a pause, a fairy peeps out from
        behind a distant tree or bush, then another and
        another, then many—ten or twelve or more—stealing
        cautiously forward toward the open grassy spot.
        They begin to sing, very softly_:]

[Music]

    We are the fairy folk, We are the airy folk,
    We are the folk of the flowers and the trees.
    We are the wary folk, Sometimes contrary folk
    Hid in the dew and afloat on the breeze.

    [_By this time they have reached the open, where they
        join hands and dance in a circle, singing_:]

    This way and that way we skip and we prance,
    This way and that way we turn in our dance;
    Here-a-way, there-a-way, darting our glance,
    Searching for mortals our band to enhance.

    [_They break up into two groups, and take the next
        lines antiphonally._]

      Little mortals clad in white—
                            Pretty sight!
      Little mortals clad in blue—
                            Pretty too!
      Little mortals clad in pink—
                            Need not shrink.
      Little mortals clad in red—
                            Have no dread.
      But little mortals clad in green—
                            No more seen!
                            No more seen!
      Little mortals clad in green—
                            No more seen!

    BLUEBELL. [_Stepping forward, and pointing toward
                    the little boy._]
               Hist! Look there!

    LILY WHEREAWAY. Where?

    BLUEBELL. A mortal, I spy!

    LILY. Ho! So do I!

    ALL. So do I, so do I, so do I!
                                          Let’s fly!

    [_They start to run back among the trees, but are checked
         by the next speech, and draw slowly forward again._]

                  Fairies! Have you seen?
                  He is clad in green!
                  He is ours if we can lure him—
                  One of us if we secure him!
                  He is clad in green!
                  He is ours, I ween.

    ALL. He is clad in green!
                  He is ours, I ween!

    [_They huddle closely together, and speak softly, with
        furtive glances and gestures toward the child, who
        does not seem to notice them._]

    MONKSHOOD.
          Now around him we’ll go stealing,
          Closer, closer, closer wheeling,

    BLUEBELL. Crouch and hush,
                       Then a rush!
                  All at once our band revealing.

    ALL. He is clad in green!
                  He is ours, I ween!

[Music]

    [_They steal toward him, then suddenly dart forward and
        join hands in a circle around him, singing softly
        and persuasively. The child looks up at them and
        smiles or laughs with surprise and pleasure._]

    Little mortal clad in green,
    Have you ever fairies seen?
    Come and join us in our play!
    Come, we’ll take you far away!
    Over hill and over dale,
    Riding lightly on the gale,
    Over water, over land,
    Come and join the fairy band!
              Come, come, come, come!
    Little mortal, take our hand,
    Come and join the fairy band!

    [_They take his hands, and draw him to his feet. One
        of them sets a wreath of flowers on his head, and
        another throws one over his shoulders. They draw
        him slowly back through the trees, singing “We are
        the fairy folk” until they are out of sight._]


SCENE II

        [_The_ MOTHER _appears, gazing back among the trees, and calling_.]

                Ho, little boy!
                Ho! Mother’s joy!
                Where is he?
                Where can he be?

        [_Old_ WITCH _hobbles in from the other side, and mumbles_.]

                Clad in green,
                No more seen
                Clad in green,
                No more seen!

     MOTHER. Tell me, Witch, and make me glad,
                         Tell me, where’s my little lad?
                           Hair of gold and jacket green,
                           Eyes as blue as sky serene,
                           Blue and gold and green, I say,
                           Like this very summer day.
                         Tell me, Witch, and make me glad,
                         Where’s my little summer lad?

      WITCH.    Clad in green,
                         No more seen!

      MOTHER.   What do you say?
                         Tell me, I pray!

      WITCH. Light of sun and light of moon,
                        Find him late or find him soon—
                        Light of moon and light of sun—
                        Fairies’ trail is never won.

        [WITCH _starts to go off, the_ MOTHER _catches her gown_.]

      MOTHER. Nay, I will not let you go
                       Till you tell me all you know!

      WITCH. Fairies thieving—
                      Mothers grieving!

      MOTHER. Fairies! They have stol’n my pet!
                       Ah, but I will find him yet!
                       Wise old witch, you know the way!
                       Help me! Help me now, I pray!

      WITCH. At the edge of night
                      Fairies are in sight.
                      Would ye have your right,
                      Steal a fairy wight.
                          Fairy wight—
                          Hold it tight!
                          Have no fright
                          Of fairy might.
                       It will bring delight.
                          Fairy wight—
                          Hold it tight!

            [_Exit_ WITCH.]

      MOTHER. Does the wise old woman mean
                       Fairy folk can now be seen?
                       I will lurk in hiding here,
                       Watching if they do appear.

    [_She crouches down behind a tree or bush. There is
        a long pause. At last, while they are still out of
        sight, the fairy song is heard again, very faintly,
        “We are the fairy folk,” etc. As they come in sight
        they cease singing and tiptoe forward silently,
        until they are on the edge of the grassy open.
        There they hover, uncertainly, as if afraid, and
        sing softly._]

    This is the hour
    When mortals have power.
    This is the time when their vision is clear.
      Fairies, go shyly!
      Fairies, go slily!
    Watching your paths, lest a mortal appear.

[Music]

    [_They come forward, cautiously, and pass near the tree
        where the_ MOTHER _is crouching. She springs up and
        seizes the tiniest of the fairies._]

      MOTHER. Fairy wight,
                       I have you tight!

      FAIRIES. Fly! Fly!
                        A mortal is by!

    [_They run, then missing one of their number, they
        turn, and crowd together at a little distance._]

    FAIRIES. Stay! Stay!
                      She has our fay

            [_Coaxingly._]

                     Mortal, we pray,
                     Give us our fay!

    MOTHER. Nay, I’ll keep your fairy here
                     Till my little lad appear.
                     She shall work from night till morn,
                     Heavy-hearted, all forlorn,
                     Wings bedraggled, spirits sad,
                     Till you give me back my lad.

    FAIRIES.[7]
                        Say not so! Say not so!
                       ’Tis a fearsome way you go!

    FAIRIES. Mortal, mortal, have a care!
                      Mortal’s lives run all awry
                      Who the fairy band defy.
                      Quickly our command obey,
                      Give us back our little fay!

[7] These speeches can be divided and assigned to different fairies.

    MOTHER. You’ll not scare me, fairy band,
                     Now I have you in my hand.
                     Fairies’ spite is hard to bear.

    MONKSHOOD.
                      ’Twill pursue you night and day,
                       In your work and in your play.
                       Butter spoilt before it’s churned,
                       Biscuits sour, porridge burned—

    LILY. Cows that sicken in the stall,
                   Fruit that rots upon the wall,

    BLUEBELL. Thornies pricking in your bed,
                       Nightmares grinning overhead—

    ALL. Foolish mortal, have a care!
                  Fairy spite is hard to bear.

    MOTHER.
                     Foolish fairies! Do you think
                     You can make a mother shrink?
                     Do your worst with fairy spite
                     I defy your fairy might!

    FAIRIES. Welladay!
                         Give us our fay!
                      Welladay!
                          We will obey!

    MOTHER. First the lad and then the fay!
                     I’ll not trust you, spirits, nay!

    [_Some of the fairies run off, during the next speech,
           and are seen returning with the boy._]

    MONKSHOOD.
                  Mortal, you shall have your will,
                  Only this you must fulfil
                  Since your lad has with us been,
                  Since he’s worn the fairy green,
                  Whether now you win or lose,
                  You must leave him free to choose
                  You must let him freely say
                  If he’ll mortal be, or fay.

    MOTHER. Be it so, I have no fear,
                     Only bring my laddie here.

    [_The_ FAIRIES _return, with the boy. As they come out
        on the grass they make a circle about him, and
        repeat, with one change, their earlier song_:]

    Little mortal, clad in green,
    You who have the fairies seen,
    Come and join us in our play!
    Come! We’ll take you far away!
    Over hill and over dale,
    Riding lightly on the gale,
    Over water, over land,
    Come and join the fairy hand!
              Come! Come! Come! Come!
    Little mortal, take our hand!
    Come and join the fairy band!

    [_They pause, break their circle, so that the boy can
        see his_ MOTHER.]

    MOTHER. Laddie, you must choose your way
                     Mother’s arms, or fairy play.
                     Will you now a fairy be
                     Or just a little boy—with me?

    [_She holds out her arms and he runs into them. The
        captive_ FAIRY, _released, runs back to her
        companions._]

    FAIRIES. Welladay! Welladay!
                      We have lost our new-made fay!

    MOTHER. Shame upon you, naughty band!
                     Thieving up and down the land!
                     Stealing little lads away,
                     Luring them to join your play!
                     Have you nothing else to do?
                     There is better work for you!
                     Make the flowers sweeter grow!
                     Make the rivers clearer flow!
                     Ride the clouds and bring the rain!
                     Lure the sunshine back again!
                     There’s your work, and there’s your play!
                     Let alone our laddies gay!
                     Run! Run! Scamper! Run!
                     Or I’ll catch you, every one!

    FAIRIES. Run! Run! Fairies run!
                      Farewell, Mortal! She has won!

    [FAIRIES _run off, while the_ MOTHER _leads out the
        little Boy. After the_ FAIRIES _have disappeared,
        their song, “We are the fairy folk” is heard once
        more, very distant._]


COSTUMES

The costumes for this play are simple, but very effective. The fairies
should all wear white—ordinary summer dresses do very well. Over these
are worn slips made of green cheese cloth. Each slip is made of one
piece, doubled and stitched together at the sides and to form the wide
kimono sleeves. The neck is cut out low for the girls and left high
for the boys, the bottom is slashed up to form points or scallops that
show the white dress underneath. The back is slit to allow room for the
fastening of the wings.

The wings are made by bending a piece of wire—one continuous piece
for each pair of wings—and covering this with pink tarlatan, doubled.
They were fastened between the shoulders by tapes that passed around
the chest and over the shoulders. Note the point of attachment for the
tapes, on the beginning of each wing and not on the wire connecting
them. When the tape is fastened only to the connecting wire the wings
droop too much. A little experimenting will ensure success. Sometimes,
if the adjustment is exactly right, the wings move a little with the
motion of the child’s shoulders, and look very real indeed. After the
wings are on, a bit of green cheese cloth is pinned across at their
base to conceal the attachment.

The little boy was dressed in a green tunic, belted in. The flower
wreaths may be made and left on the grass until they are needed, or the
fairies may bring them in with them. All the fairies wore flower hats,
made of crêpe paper of different colors, slashed in points so that they
looked like double tulips. Each cap was of two layers of paper, of
contrasting color—blue over white, white over pink, red over yellow,
etc.

The mother’s costume need not be made especially for the play, but it
should be inconspicuous in color and simple in its lines. The witch has
the conventional peaked cap, hair hanging straight about her face, old
shawl, and big cane.

The part of the boy should be taken by a very little child—not more
than five years old, and preferably not over four.

[Illustration: Wire for Wings. Cap. Green Slip.]

The fairy songs do not necessarily have to be sung, but they are
prettier if the children have true enough voices. They should not be
sung loud. If they are not sung they may be half intoned in a more
or less musical sing-song. The music as written is furnished with
very simple accompaniments, such as could be rendered out of doors by
guitars or mandolins, or two violins playing pizzicato. As given last
year a violin and harp were used, and the result was very beautiful.

[Illustration]




A FRIEND IN NEED; OR, HOW “THE VICAR OF WAKEFIELD” FOUND A PUBLISHER


BY MAUDE MORRISON FRANK

“_I received one morning a message from poor Goldsmith that he was in
great distress, and, as it was not in his power to come to me, begging
that I would come to him as soon as possible. I accordingly went as
soon as I was dressed, and found that his landlady had arrested him
for his rent, at which he was in a violent passion. I perceived that
he had already changed my guinea, and had got a bottle of Madeira and
a glass before him. I put the cork into the bottle, desired he would
be calm, and began to talk to him of the means by which he might be
extricated. He then told me that he had a novel ready for the press,
which he produced to me. I looked into it, and saw its merit; told the
landlady I should soon return, and, having gone to a book-seller, sold
it for sixty pounds. I brought Goldsmith the money, and he discharged
his rent...._”

    From BOSWELL’S “Life of Johnson.”


CHARACTERS

    OLIVER GOLDSMITH.
    DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON.
    THE LANDLADY.

    MARGERY, aged 13, }
                      } The Landlady’s Children.
    DICK, aged 12,    }

Time: 1762


SCENE

    Oliver Goldsmith’s lodgings, Wine Office Court, Fleet
        Street, London. The walls are discolored, the
        furniture is old and rickety. The floor, the
        chairs, and the tables are littered with quantities
        of ragged books and loose papers.

    [GOLDSMITH, _untidily dressed, is striding up and down_.]

GOLDSMITH. _[After glancing impatiently at the door several times,
opens it and calls loudly._] Margery!

MARGERY. [_Coming in and curtseying._] Did you want for anything, sir?

GOLDSMITH. Has that graceless brother of yours not come back? Sure it’s
above an hour since he set off.

MARGERY. Oh, sir, Dick has never been so long as that!

GOLDSMITH. An hour, I tell you, and the half of that besides! He’ll be
playing at pitch-and-toss in the court, I warrant you.

MARGERY. Oh, sir, he’d not do that—not when you sent him so particular!

GOLDSMITH. Never you be too sure, Margery, of what folks will do or not
do. There’s myself now. You’d never believe that I could be so foolish
as to sell a good song for a paltry five shillings. But many’s the
time I did it in the old town of Dublin, and climbed the college wall
at night to hear the verses sung in the streets too. Then, like as not,
some poor soul that needed the money more than I would beg the crown
piece from me before I found my way back to the wretched garret where I
lodged. But times have changed, Margery.

MARGERY. [_Hesitatingly._] Yes, sir; but, you see, sir, you still—

GOLDSMITH. [_Hurriedly._] Run down to the door like a good maid, do,
and see if Dick’s in sight. [MARGERY _goes out_; GOLDSMITH _paces up
and down restlessly for a moment, then, going to the table, opens
the drawer noisily and rummages among his papers._] A plague on all
landladies, say I! [_In a tone of disgust._] And not so much as an old
song left to sell this time!

MARGERY. [_Reappearing, timidly._] Dick’s not to be seen yet, sir. I
ran to the end of the court and looked as far as ever I could.

GOLDSMITH. [_Angrily._] A pretty pass for a gentleman like me to be
in!—unable to stir beyond the four walls of the room, and very dirty
walls they are, too [_with a scornful look about him_], with that
cowardly bailiff sitting on the stairs, like a vile cat ready to pounce
at any moment. And, unless Dr. Johnson is as quick to send help as he
is to contradict me at the club, I must go to prison, and all because
that mother of yours is so vixenish about the trifle of rent. She knows
I’d give away my last halfpenny to any one who needed it.

[Illustration]

MARGERY. [_Beginning to cry._] Yes, indeed, sir; but that’s just it!
Mother heard the young gentlemen who were here last night talking in
the passage about the guinea you’d given them to go to the play; and
then, this morning, she only asked for some of the rent because she’s
obliged to pay Dick’s fees to Mr. Filby, the tailor, who’s willing to
take him to ’prentice and teach him the trade if he finds he’s a likely
lad.

GOLDSMITH. [_Excitedly._] But I haven’t another guinea to my name, I
tell you!

[MARGERY _sobs loudly._]

GOLDSMITH. [_Dreadfully distressed._] You shall have a whole shilling
for yourself, my girl, if you’ll give over crying. But [_in a lower
tone_], faith, I’ll have to get the shilling first!

[_Door opens, and_ DICK _enters, much out of breath._]

DICK. I’d a deal of trouble to give the letter to the old gentleman
in the Temple. Frank, the black man-servant, said at first that his
master, who could write a great book like the dictionary, all out of
his own head, had no call to be bothered with forward London lads. Then
he made me wait a long time while Dr. Johnson drank tea with Miss
Williams, the little old blind lady that lives there. But at last the
Doctor read your letter and gave me this one for you, with a penny for
myself. Then he called very loud for a man-servant, and said a lot of
things I couldn't rightly understand, the words were so long; but he
said “Scatter-brain!” at the end. Could that mean you, sir?

GOLDSMITH. [_Without heeding the boy, hurriedly breaks the seal, and
reads._]

                                            TEMPLE LANE.
    _My Dear Sir_:
       Your vexatious situation has awakened the liveliest
     emotion of sympathy in the breast of one who, while
     condemning the follies of his fellow men, rejoices
     in an opportunity of alleviating their miseries. The
     inclosed piece of gold is designed to meet your most
     pressing necessities, and I will myself follow your
     Mercury with as much expedition as I can compass.

             I am, sir, your sincere well-wisher,
                                          SAMUEL JOHNSON.

GOLDSMITH. [_With a deep sigh of relief._] Ah! 'tis a great thing
to have real friends. And they're not always the people that have
the smoothest tongues, either. The Doctor's rough in his speech, yet
there's nothing of the bear about him but his skin. [_Remembering the
children, with a start._] Here, Dick, old debts must always be paid.
I've promised Margery a shilling, and you shall have sixpence. Run and
change this guinea at the Green Dragon Tavern, hard by. [DICK _makes
for the door._] But, stay! If I must spend the day indoors, at least
I'll have some good wine to keep me company. You may as well bring a
quart of Madeira, lad, the best you can buy. [DICK _goes out._] And,
Margery, there's an old corkscrew on the floor in yonder corner. There
should be a goblet, too, on the shelf. The other three were broken at
our little meeting last night, and the china monster I was always so
fond of, too, because Cousin Jane Contarine gave it to me. Ah, well!
[_Picking up some fragments from the floor and placing them on a
shelf._] I'll keep the pieces to remind me of her. [DICK _enters, sets
a dusty bottle on the table, and takes the change out of his various
pockets, piece by piece, with an air of great responsibility._]

GOLDSMITH. [_Without counting the money._] Ah, the boy at last! Here's
a sixpence for you, lad. [DICK _pulls his forelock and promptly pockets
the coin._] And here's your shilling, Margery.

MARGERY. [_Taking it reluctantly._] I'll be sure to tell Mother how
kind you are, sir, and then perhaps—

GOLDSMITH. Perhaps she'll not let the bailiff carry me off to prison?
No use hoping for that, my dear, or for any other piece of good luck,
for that matter. Poor Noll will never gallop in a coach and six, for
all his hard work. But the sun shines sometimes even in Fleet Prison,
and here's good wine, for once, to make him forget his troubles, so—

[_Fills a goblet to the brim, lifts it to his lips, but sets it down
quickly upon hearing a heavy step on the landing._]

[Illustration]

DR. JOHNSON. [_Outside, in a sonorous voice, heard through the
half-open door._] Madam, I am fully aware that Dr. Goldsmith is in an
embarrassing situation. I am also aware that your behavior is, in
part, responsible for his embarrassments. If you will have the goodness
to refrain from violent recriminations, I will visit him forthwith
to investigate these complications. [_Advancing to the center of the
room with great dignity._] My dear Goldsmith, I trust your messenger
reported that I should employ the utmost expedition in coming to your
assistance. The existence of a literary man is, I apprehend,—[_Coming
closer to the table, he perceives the bottle and well-filled goblet,
peers at the pile of coins and counts them, snorts violently in
disgust, corks the bottle, and then, perceiving the children, says,
sternly_:] Sir, our conversation need not be extended, but I shall take
the liberty of dismissing these young persons.

[_Children go out on tiptoe._]

GOLDSMITH. [_Advancing with outstretched hand and an engaging smile._]
Nay, Doctor, it'll ill work thumping a poor harmless fellow with
hard words when the jade Misfortune has him by the throat. Life has
many a dull day for poor Noll, and he could never cure his ills with
tea-drinking, either.

DR. JOHNSON. [_Shaking his massive silver-headed cane indignantly._]
Sir, you are impertinent as well as improvident! Disturbed at my
sixth cup of tea, barely half my usual allowance, as Miss Williams
will testify, I hasten hither only to find that your most pressing
necessities are such as can be supplied from the nearest tavern.
The gold I despatched by your messenger, as from one literary man
to another, I could ill spare, and, since I find you in affluence
[GOLDSMITH _turns out his empty pockets ruefully_] and employed in
a manner eminently befitting your talents, I will bid you good day
without further ceremony! [_Paces solemnly toward the door._]

[Illustration]

GOLDSMITH. [_Coming forward quickly._] Sure, Doctor, you can never do
that! I was always my own worst friend and you my best. Isn't it the
sober truth I wrote in the letter, that the bailiff fellow's sitting in
the passage, waiting to take me to prison if I once put my nose outside
the door? You can see the ugly back of him now.

[_He flings open the_ _door, to the confusion of the_ LANDLADY, _who
has been listening at the keyhole._]

DR. JOHNSON. [_Ignoring_ GOLDSMITH _completely._] Madam, it argues an
amiable disposition on your part to manifest so strong an interest in
Dr. Goldsmith's misfortunes. Have the goodness to enter and favor me
with an explanation of these circumstances.

LANDLADY. Begging your pardon, sir, I'm not a good 'and at hexplaining
and such, but when a lone woman 'as two children and heverything to do
for them, and gentlemen as 'as guineas to give away promiscuous and owe
rent for months don't pay a penny, though the lad's to be 'prenticed
and 'is fees found—as good a lad as there is in the court too, though
I say it as shouldn't—why, then, one time as well as hanother for the
bailiffs, thinks I, when things come to be _so_ houtrageous—[_Stops,
out of breath._]

DR. JOHNSON. [_Very sternly, to_ GOLDSMITH.] How, sir! Am I to
understand that your indebtedness to this good woman has covered a
period of months? [GOLDSMITH _opens his mouth as if to speak._] Never
bandy words with me, sir! She must be paid, and at once!

GOLDSMITH. That's like your old kindness, Doctor, and I'll be sure to
pay you when I get the next money from my old skinflint of a publisher.

DR. JOHNSON. Not so fast, sir; not so fast! Keep your compliments
until they are wanted. For my own guineas I can find worthier
employment [_glancing meaningly at the table_], but you shall set your
roving wits to work for the discharge of your debt to this poor woman
here.

GOLDSMITH. But I can't so much as take a step without having that
greasy fellow yonder hale me to prison, and no man can write there.

DR. JOHNSON. Better men than you have written there, sir, and to the
glory of England, too! But your foolish errands can be done for you.
Have you scribbled nothing of late that you have not sold before it was
finished? No verses? The last—I should be wiser than to tell you—were
as sensible as their writer is foolish. Nothing? [GOLDSMITH _shakes his
head._] Nay, sit down and look through this heap of rubbish. [_Pointing
to the open drawer full of untidy manuscript._]

GOLDSMITH. [_Looks blankly at the papers, picks up a ragged rôle, runs
through the leaves rapidly, shakes his head, and looks up doubtfully._]
I wonder would they give me anything for this? I'd completely forgot
it. It's only a poor tale, though I liked it well enough when I wrote
it. But I've nothing else.

DR. JOHNSON. What sort of tale, sir? Is it a fable? Has it a moral?

GOLDSMITH. 'Tis about a clergyman and his family. I'd thought to call
it “The Parson of Wakefield,” or some such name. I had my father,
rest his soul, in mind when I wrote it; and I put in some of my own
mad doings as well. There's comfort sometimes in setting down your own
follies in print. It seems like a way of getting rid of them. They're
not all so easy to get rid of, though, more's the pity!

DR. JOHNSON. Here, sir! Cease maundering and let me look at your
nonsense. [_Settles his spectacles, sits down in an arm-chair, and
begins to read._] “I was ever of the opinion that the honest man who
married,” m—m—m—m. [_Turning pages._] “The only hope of our family
now was that the report of our misfortunes might be malicious or
premature,” m—m—m—m. [_Turning pages._] “I now began to find that
all my long and painful lectures upon temperance, simplicity, and
contentment were entirely disregarded.” [_Turns pages for a while,
seizes his hat and stick, and stalks out without a word._ GOLDSMITH
_stares at the_ LANDLADY _in surprise; the children rush in._]

MARGERY. [_Eagerly._] Oh, sir! Will the old gentleman help you? He
said, “Thank you, my little mistress,” so kindly, when I picked up his
stick just now, that I'm sure he's not a great bear, as Dick calls him.

GOLDSMITH. [_Sadly._] He's a very good-hearted bear, if he's one at
all, Margery, and if anything can be made of a worthless fellow like
me, the Doctor will do it. But sometimes I misdoubt me that it can be
done.

[Illustration]

LANDLADY. [_Sharply._] There, now, Dr. Goldsmith, I don't 'old with
hany one calling 'imself names! I've 'ad a many lodgers in my time, and
take them hall, bad and good, I'd a deal rather 'ave shillings from
you, sir, than pounds from the hother gentlemen, for you've always a
bit of a laugh about you for me and the young ones, and that halways
'elps a body through the day. But, you see, sir, I was that worried
about the lad's fees for 'is 'prenticing that I was maybe a bit 'ard
about the rent, but, indeed—

GOLDSMITH. Not half so hard as you had a right to be! It's a shameless
scamp I am to be giving my guineas to such idle lads as were here last
night, and there's none knows it better than myself. A sorry tale my
life will be at this rate, with only debts and follies and maybe worse
till the end of the chapter—[_He buries his face in his hands._ MARGERY
_steals up behind him and lays her hand timidly on his shoulder._]

    [_A heavy step is heard, the door is flung wide open,
        and_ DR. JOHNSON _enters, breathing hard, and
        wearing an air of great importance._]

DR. JOHNSON. Madam, what is the exact amount of my colleague's
indebtedness to your establishment?

LANDLADY. Dr. Goldsmith, sir? 'E owes me fifteen guineas, come last
Lady-day.

DR. JOHNSON. And the officer in the passage? What amount must be
expended for the benefits of his presence?

LANDLADY. It's twelve shillings for the warrant, sir, and the stamp
will be three more. 'E'll want two for 'is supper and ale, but I'll not
give it. 'E'd best get into an honest business and not come cluttering
up folk's 'ouses with 'is great hugly self.

DR. JOHNSON. Here are sixteen guineas, Madam, and I desire you to pay
the poor wretch's supper. 'Twas by no fault of his that he came here.

GOLDSMITH. [_Starting up._] Which of the knaves did you talk into
giving sixteen guineas for that poor tale? I would never have believed
it!

DR. JOHNSON. To be sure, sir, it would have been another story had you
carried your wares to market yourself, for the booksellers have but
an ill opinion of you at present. But there was no fear that any one
of them would venture to say _me_ nay, or waste words in cheapening
what I chose to recommend. [_Impressively._] Mr. Newbery, your former
publisher, has been pleased to purchase the work which you intrusted to
me, and to send you a remuneration of sixty guineas.

GOLDSMITH. Sixty guineas! [_Sinks back on his chair in astonishment._]
Dick, lad, do you hear that? You shall have the finest jack-knife in
all Cheapside, my boy, and Margery a new bonnet with flowered ribbons
on it, for she was always sorry for me when pence were hard to come
by. And I [_rising and strutting up and down_] shall be all the
better myself for a little smartening. I'll have another look at that
marvelous pretty plum-colored velvet I saw in Filby's shop last week.
He'll be sure to trust me for it if I pay something on the old bill,
and—[_Stops short, as_ DR. JOHNSON _raps violently on the floor with
his stick._]

DR. JOHNSON. [_Shaking his head solemnly._] Nay, sir, a spendthrift you
were born, but an honest man I'll make you, if this money [_holding
up a large leather purse_] will discharge your outstanding accounts.
There shall be no plum-colored velvets, I promise you, until justice
is done. But [_observing the downcast looks of the children_] you, my
little mistress, shall not be deprived of your finery, nor the lad of
his promised toy.

GOLDSMITH. [_Plucking up courage._] Then, Doctor, you'll not leave
me without a penny, like _Simple Simon_ in the old rime? Sure, no
tradesman will trust me with his wares, either.

DR. JOHNSON. [_Firmly._] And quite right too, sir. But to leave you
four and forty pounds in your present state of mind would be sheer
madness. Steady your wits, sir, by making a fair copy of your debts, to
show me at five, when Miss Williams shall give you a slice of mutton
in the Temple. On your solemn assurance that your creditors shall be
satisfied without delay, the balance shall be yours, though it will
be wasted on folly, I make no doubt. I have the honor to wish you
good day, sir. [_Claps his hat on, seizes his stick, and marches out,
stopping a moment to pat_ MARGERY'S _curls as she curtseys to him._]

GOLDSMITH. [_With a sigh of relief._] Ah, well! It's an ill wind that
blows nobody good. Things looked black enough an hour since, and
now, Margery, you'll be monstrous fine in a new bonnet, and Dick the
cock of the court with his jack-knife. And I—I'll manage to get that
plum-colored velvet—with a taffeta lining, too—or my name's not Oliver
Goldsmith!

    [_Children clap their hands in delight_; LANDLADY
        _shakes her head at_ GOLDSMITH _disapprovingly._]

[Illustration]




THE NEW RED RIDING-HOOD


BY E. S. BROOKS

CHARACTERS


    JENNY, a girl of eight years. JOHNNY STOUT, a boy of
        sixteen or eighteen years. JIMMY BINGS, a Tramp.

    The argument shows that wolves are just as designing,
        little girls just as heedless and helpful, and the
        chances of rescue just as possible to-day as at the
        time of the original Red Riding-hood.


SCENE

    A neatly furnished parlor. JENNY discovered dusting
        furniture, arranging flowers, and making things
        look nice generally.

    JENNY. [_Surveying her work critically._]
               There!—my mama's gone away,
               To be gone, she said, all day,
         And so I am keeping house. Oh, what fun!
               I shall have no time to play,
               But must work and work away,
         And be busy as a mouse, till I've done.

               But my mama said to me—
               Now, what was it? Let me see:
         “Jenny, darling, don't go out all the day;
               But keep close at home till tea,
               When I'll come and set you free;
         So just mind what you're about, dear, I pray.

              “And keep Bridget right in call;
               And mind this, dear, most of all:
         Don't let in any stranger while I'm gone.
               Lock the windows and the hall,
            And be careful not to fall,
         And don't get into danger here alone.”

               Well, I'll try my best, I'm sure,
               To keep everything secure;
         But I've no need for Bridget, that I know;
               Girls are _such_ a bore about,
               And she might as well go out;

         I'll just go down and tell her she can go. [_Exit._]

    [JIMMY BINGS _appears outside at window (or door, if
        a window is impracticable); he peers in, looks around;
        then tries the window, opens it, and enters cautiously._]

    JIMMY BINGS.
              Well, now, here's a lucky go!
              With that window open so,
        I just skipped right in the house as slick as soap.
              Why, here's loads of pretty things.
              You're in luck, old Jimmy Bings,
        And can do a stroke of business here, I hope.
                               [_A noise outside._]
        Hello! Who's that coming here?

           [_Goes to door, and looks out cautiously._]

        Men? No! Dogs? No! Well, that's queer!
            Why! it's only just a pretty leetle gal.
            Jimmy Bings, slip out, and then
            Just walk in here bold again—
        Play your game, and make that little chick your pal!

      [_Exit through door cautiously._]
      [_Reënter_ JENNY.]

    JENNY.
           There! Now Bridget's gone away,
           And I'll have a quiet day,
         Fixing everything up lovely while I wait;
           So that Mama, she will say,
           When she comes back home to-day:
        “What a lady is my little girl of eight!”

      [_Enter by door_ JIMMY BINGS, _hat in hand.
           He makes_ JENNY _a low bow._]

    JIMMY B.
              Ah! Good-morning, little miss!
              You look sweet enough to kiss.
        Is your Ma at home this morning, may I ask?

    JENNY.
               Why, sir, no. She's gone away,
               To be gone the livelong day,
          And I'm keeping house alone.

    JIMMY B.        A pleasant task.
              And you'll do it, I'll be bound.
              Well, I'm sorry Ma's not 'round,
        For I wanted quite pertickeler to see her.

    JENNY.
              May not I, sir, do as well?
              Is it—anything to sell?
        Pray sit down, sir, so that we may talk the freer.

    JIMMY B. [_Sitting._]
              Thank you, Miss, I'll sit awhile;
              For I've traveled many a mile,
        Just to see your precious Ma, if you'll believe me.

    JENNY.
              She'll be sorry, sir, I know,
              When she hears she's missed you so.
        Can't you tell me, sir, your business, ere you leave me?

    JIMMY B.
              Well, the fact is, I'm her cousin!

                     [JENNY _looks surprised._]
              Oh, she'd know me in a dozen.
          I'm her cousin, come to see her, from Nevada.

    JENNY. [_Suspiciously._]
              In those clothes?—Oh, sir,—I fear—!

    JIMMY B.
              Oh, a railroad smash-up, dear,
          Mussed me up a little—never was jogged harder!

    JENNY.
              Oh, I'm sorry! Are you hurt?

    JIMMY B.
              Not the least. It's only dirt;
        But I always am so neat, I quite despair;
              And my wardrobe all is down
              At the Clarendon, in town,
        Where I'm stopping: I am Algernon St. Clair.

    JENNY.
              My, though! What a pretty name!
              Well, it really is a shame
        You should have to go to town in such a plight.
              There now, wouldn't Papa's do?
              Oh, please look the papers through,
        And I'll run upstairs, and soon fix you all right.

    JIMMY B.
              No, don't fret yourself, my dear;
              I prefer to have you here,
        Though perhaps I may accept your offer later.
              Is your Pa as big as me?

    JENNY. [_Surprised._]
              Don't you know him?

    JIMMY B.                Well, you see,
           I've been West so long I've kind of lost my data.

    JENNY.
            Won't you have a bit to eat?

    JIMMY B.
            Well, I do feel rather beat.

    JENNY.
            Then I'll go and bring you up a little luncheon.

    JIMMY B. [_Carelessly._]
            Have you silver, dear—or plate?

    JENNY.
            Mostly solid, sir.

    JIMMY B.               Fust rate!
            Bring it up, and let me see it while I'm munchin'.

    JENNY. [_Surprised._]
            Bring up all the silver, sir?

    JIMMY B.
            Why, that's what I come here fur,
      Just to make your dearest Ma a little present,—
            Silver service lined with gold,—
            And if hers's a trifle old
      I'll have it all fixed over.

    JENNY. [_Delighted._]    Oh, how pleasant!
            I will get it right away.
            My! I'm glad you came to-day,
      It will be, oh, such a nice surprise to Mama.

    JIMMY B.
            Well, I rather think so, too.

    JENNY.
            Now, for your luncheon.      [_Exit._]

    JIMMY B. [_Looking after her and rubbing his hands._]
                                    Good for you!
        What a blessed little chick you are, my charmer!
              Just the cream of tender things;
              You're in luck, old Jimmy Bings—
        Oh, hexcuse me, Mr. Algernon St. Clair!—
              Just you turn an honest penny.
              Now, let's see if there are any
        Of these things worth my packing up with care.

    [_Takes the table-cloth off the table and begins
        filling it with ornaments, knickknacks, and
        valuables, looking at each article sharply.
        Suddenly he stops, both hands full, as if struck
        by a brilliant idea._]

          Jimmy Bings! Why, that is grand,—
          Here's a fortune right at hand!
    For contriving little schemes you are the boss.
          Scoop in all the things you can,
          And then, like a prudent man,
    Take the little girl off too—like Charley Ross!

    [_Hurries the rest of the things into the table-cloth,
        stopping occasionally to express his approval of
        his great plan by sundry slaps and nods. Enter_
        JENNY _with a tray of luncheon, nicely set. She
        stands in the doorway amazed._]

    JENNY.
              Mr. Algernon St. Clair,
              Why—what _are_ you doing there?

    JIMMY B.
        Only clearing off the things to help you, dear.

    JENNY.
            But the table's large enough.

    JIMMY B.
            Oh, well! Just set down the stuff,
        And I'll make the reason very, very clear—
            Brought a lot for me to eat?

    JENNY.
            Bread and cake, preserves and meat.

    JIMMY B.
        What a handy little chick you are,—
        [_Nods at her, his mouth full._]     That's so!
              Don't you want to come with me—
              And your little cousins see?

    JENNY.
        Oh, no, thank you, sir; from home I cannot go.

    JIMMY B. [_Eating rapidly._]
              Well, we'll speak of that bime-by.
              Vittles, fust-class—spiced quite high.
        Yes—they're most as good as what I get in town.

                              [_Pushes his plate away._]

            Now, then; I will tell you, Miss,
            What's the meaning of all this.
                              [_Points to his bundle._]

        Where's that silver service?

      [_Jenny opens sideboard and shows the silver service._]
                                   All right—pack her down.
      [_Stuffing it into the bundle._]

              Well, you see, it isn't fair
              That a sister of St. Clair
        Should have to use things when they're worn and old.
              So, I think I'll take them down
              To my jeweler's, in town,
        And just swap 'em off for nicer things in gold.

    JENNY.
              O—h! But that will cost so much!

    JIMMY B.
              Now, then, Sissy, don't you touch
        On that question, 'cause the new ones _I_ shall buy;
              But I'd like to have you go
              And help pick them out, you know;
        'Cause you know what Mama likes best, more than I.

    JENNY.
              But I really can't leave home.

    JIMMY B.
              Oh, I think you'd better come;
        For it won't be long before I bring you back.

    JENNY. [_Hesitating._]
              I have half a mind to go.
              Mama'd let me.

    JIMMY B.             That I know.
        So get ready, while I go to work and pack.

    JENNY. [_Deliberating._]
              She said: “Jenny, do not go.”
              But, of course, she could not know
        That her cousin, Mr. Algernon St. Clair,
              Would come here to take me out.
              Oh, I know what I'm about,
        And I'll go along with him, I do declare.

        [_Goes to closet and brings out her red cloak and hood._]

    JIMMY B.
              What a pretty cloak and hood!

    JENNY.
              Mama made them. She's so good!

    JIMMY B.
        Good as gold! Just wear them, won't you?
          That's a dear.

    JENNY.
              But I mustn't get them wet.

    JIMMY B.
              I won't let you; don't you fret.
        I'll take care of them when once we go from here.
              Now, then—are you ready, Sis?

    JENNY.
              Yes—but, then, I mustn't miss
        To see everything locked up all safe and tight,
              So that none of those old tramps—
              My! but aren't they horrid scamps?—
        Can sneak in before we both get back to-night.

    JIMMY B. [_Looking at doors and windows._]
              Oh, well! Everything's secure.

    JENNY.
              Did you look?

    JIMMY B.            Oh, yes. I'm sure.
        So let's both be off at once, without delay.
           [_Noise outside_—JIMMY _starts, guiltily._]

    JIMMY B.
              Hello, there, now! What was that?

    JENNY.
              Where?

    JIMMY B.     Out there!

    JENNY.                  It was the cat!

    JIMMY B.
              No, it wasn't.

    JENNY.         P'r'aps it's Mama!

    JIMMY. [_Starting for the door._]    Get away!

    [_Door opens suddenly._ JOHNNY STOUT _bursts in and then
         stops, astonished._]

    JOHNNY.
              Goodness, Jenny! What's this mean?

    JENNY.
              What?

    JOHNNY.    Why this confusing scene?
              Are you moving?

    JENNY.     No, I'm going out to walk.

    JOHNNY.
            Going _out_? Whom with? and where?

    JENNY. [_Points to_ J. B.]
              Mr. Algernon St. Clair.

    JIMMY B. [_Loftily._]
          So don't keep us here, young feller, with your talk.

    JOHNNY. [_Suspiciously._]
              Jenny, who's that party there?

                                     [_Points to_ J. B.]

    JENNY. [_Pouting._]
              Mr. Algernon St. Clair—
        Mama's cousin, who has come here from Nevada.

    JOHNNY.
              From Nevada!—How you talk!

        [_Suddenly to_ JIMMY B.]

              Well, my friend, you'll have to walk!
        Pretty quick, sir, too, before I make it harder!

    JIMMY B.
              Why! You saucy little cub,
              Why!—I'll have to thrash you, Bub.
        Just you scatter, or I'll help you with my toe, sir!

    JOHNNY. [_Quickly pulling out a pistol from the table-drawer,
                      and pointing it at_ JIMMY B.]
              Do you see this little toy?
              There's six pills for you, my boy,
        Unless you drop that stuff at once and—go, sir!

    JIMMY B. [_To_ JENNY, _appealingly._]
              Look here, Sis, this isn't square!

    JENNY. [_Protesting._]
              Mr. Algernon St. Clair!

    JOHNNY. [_Contemptuously._]
        Mr. Algernon St. Fiddlesticks, my Jenny!
              Why, this sneaking fellow, here,
              Is just out of jail, my dear!
        He's a tramp, without a single honest penny.

    JIMMY B. [_Stepping toward him._]
              That's a lie!

    JOHNNY. [_Levels pistol at him._]
                            Hush! don't you talk.
              Drop your bundle, sir, and walk,
        Or I'll shoot you like a dog, without objection.
              Now, then—go, sir, or I'll fire!
              Put your hands up!—higher! higher!
        Wait here, Jenny: I'll just sever this connection.

    [_He backs_ J. B. _out of the room at the muzzle
        of the pistol_; JENNY _listens for a while,
        and then sinks on a chair and cries._]

    JENNY.
              Just a horrid, dirty tramp!
              What an awful, awful scamp!
        Oh, what _shall_ I say to Mama? Dearie, dear!
              If I'd only minded her
              Such a thing could not occur,
        And she'll _never_ trust me so again, I fear.

      [_Cries a little longer. Then jumps up, indignantly._]

              Oh, but what a horrid bear!
              Mr. Algernon St. Clair! [_Contemptuously._]
        What an awful, awful, _awful_ wicked story!

                                      [_Enter_ JOHNNY.]

              Oh, but Johnny, where is he?

    JOHNNY.
              He's as safe as safe can be.
         Fast in jail, now, all alone and in his glory.
              I just marched him to the gate;
              There I made him stand and wait
         Till I saw a big policeman come along;
              Then, when I had told the tale,
              He just walked him off to jail,
         And so there your cousin's locked up, good and strong.

    JENNY.
              Oh, don't say my cousin, please!

    JOHNNY.
              Well, _'t was_ just the tightest squeeze!
        But how _did_ he, Jenny, get you in his snare?

    JENNY.
              He was _so_ polite and kind!

    JOHNNY.
              Oh, you goosey! Oh, how blind!
        Ha, ha, ha, ha! Mr. Algernon St. Clair!

    JENNY.
              Now, don't laugh, please; for, you see,
              It _did_ seem all right to me;
        And I thought he meant to do just what he said.
              Dear! but what _will_ Mama say,
              When she comes back home to-day?
        Oh, I wish, I _wish_ that I could hide my head!

    JOHNNY.
              Why, just tell the whole thing out,
              And say how it came about.

    JENNY.
        Well, I will. And, Johnny, I will tell her, too,
              How _you_ came, so bold and brave—

    JOHNNY. [_Interrupting._]
              Oh, no! that'll do to save.

    JENNY.
        But I shouldn't have been saved, dear, without you!

    JOHNNY.
              Never mind, my Jenny, then;
              But I guess you'll know again
        That to mind what Mama says, alone is good.

    JENNY.
              Yes, I shall!

    JOHNNY.         And, now it's through,
              I shall always think of you,
                              [_Taking her hand._]
        Little Jenny, as the NEW RED RIDING-HOOD.

[CURTAIN]

[Illustration]




THE BABES IN THE WOOD


(_An Impromptu Musical Tragedy_)

BY LAURA E. RICHARDS

    [_Air, “The Bold Young Lumberman.” The music may be continuous
            throughout, the action keeping time with it._]


Characters

    WICKED UNCLE.
    REMORSELESS FIENDS.
    BABES.
    ROBIN.


SCENE I

      [_Enter_ UNCLE.]

    UNCLE. Oh, I am a bold, bad man,
          And I have a bold, bad plan.
          Now mind what you're about,
          Just watch and see how I carry it out!
          For I am a bold, bad man,
          And I have a bold, bad plan.

    [_He beckons, and from either side, in cloaks
        and masks, and armed with daggers, enter_
        REMORSELESS FIENDS.]

    FIENDS. Two remorseless fiends are we,
        As anybody can see.
        When a deed of blood's to do,
        Just send for us and we'll carry it through;
        For remorseless fiends are we,
        As anybody can see.

    [UNCLE _gives them gold, in bags, and indicates stabbing.
         They express comprehension. Dance. Curtain._]


SCENE II: _Wood_

    [_Enter_ FIENDS, _dragging_ BABES. _They threaten to
        kill them, but are disarmed by their pleading; they
        weep, and sing._]

    FIENDS. Two remorseless fiends are we,
        As anybody can see.
        But even for a villain
        There may come a time when Barkis _ain't_ willin',
        Though remorseless fiends are we,
        As anybody can see.

             [_Dance and exeunt._]

[Illustration]

    BABES. We are poor little babes in the wood,
        And we've tried all the week to be good.
        But they've gone and left us here,
        And we really think it's a little bit queer,
        For we're poor little babes in the wood,
        And we've tried all the week to be good.

        [_They lie down and die._]

        [_Enter_ ROBIN, _hopping._]

    ROBIN. I'm a tender-hearted robin,
        And this sad scene sets me sobbin'.
        So, to give my heart relief,
        I will cover them up with a little green leaf,
        Like a tender-hearted robin,
        Whom this sad scene sets a-sobbin'.

      [_Covers_ BABES _with leaves, and exit._]

                      [CURTAIN]

      [_Curtain rises again on all the performers, who sing_]

          We are campers [or “comrades”] bold and true,
          And we've made this play for you.
          And if you like it not,
          Let us see you make a better one on the spot,
          For we're campers [or “comrades”] bold and true,
          And we've made this play for you.

                [_Dance and_ CURTAIN.]

[Music]