[Exit backwards slowly. Friedel suddenly raises
himself, stretching out his hand after her.

CURTAIN

SCENE II

Christmas Eve in Mother Madelon's cottage. Open fireplace[3] at the Right, door (R.) and window (L.) at the back. Snow scene at back, shows through window and door when opened. Small table by the window with half a loaf of bread and one or two cracked plates and cups. A stool, a small chair, and by the fire a box. Mother Madelon sits (L.) at a spinning wheel. The children stand beside her, Gretel rubbing her eyes with her two little fists, Hans with his hands behind him.

Hans [bravely]. But, Mother, the good saint never missed us before. Are you sure he isn't coming?

Gretel. What makes you so sure, Mother, dear?

Mother. Yes, my little ones, I am afraid it is true. [More brightly.] You know, he has so very much to do. Just think how many little children he must go to see every year! Someone must always be left out. Perhaps it is our turn now. We can wait until next year. Perhaps he will come then.

Hans [rubbing his eyes]. Oh, dear, I wish to-morrow wouldn't come at all.

Mother. Oh, Hans, don't say that. Think how happy we can be. Even if St. Nicholas doesn't come, to-morrow is still the bright, beautiful Christmas Day, when everyone in the world is happy, and we shall hear the chimes ringing, and see people going about wishing each other "Merry Christmas." And then we have each other. I have my little big daughter who helps me wipe the dishes and put the plates away and my big right-hand man who is going to work so hard for me pretty soon.

Hans. Yes, Mother, but I can help you now, right away. Let me do something for you right now!

Gretel. Me too, Mother, me too!

Mother. Very well! You shall hold this yarn for me, while Gretel winds it. [Puts the yarn on Hans' hands. Hans sits on box, Gretel on stool winding. Mother turns spinning wheel and sings "Bending O'er a Cradle Low."]

BENDING O’ER A CRADLE LOW[4]

(A CHRISTMAS SONG)

Lydia Avery Coonley. George F. Root.

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Hans. Gretel, I believe St. Nicholas will come anyway, I just believe he will. [Gretel gives the yarn to her mother, Hans remains sitting on the box.] When we aren't thinking about it he'll just walk right in—I'll show you how. [Jumps up and runs out of the door.] Now, I'm St. Nicholas. [Comes in again, speaking in a loud and pompous tone.] How do you do, little Miss Gretel,—how are you little—no, big Hans! [Shakes hands with Gretel and with an imaginary Hans.] Well, Mother Madelon, have these children been very good indeed?

Mother. Yes, good saint, I couldn't ask for two better, dearer children, or any that I love half so well.

Hans [in his own voice]. Oh, Mother, do you truly think so?

Gretel. Then, Hans, if we've been good children, I 'most know St. Nicholas will come.

Hans [dancing to look out of door]. Oh, he will! He will! Mother, give me something to do so I won't keep thinking about it.

Gretel. Oh, Hans, let's have a story!

Hans. Oh, yes, Mother, please tell us a story.

Mother. Bring your little stools, then I will tell you a Christmas story.

Gretel [coaxingly]. Mother, don't you think it is too dark to spin? Let me sit in your lap.

Mother. You funny little fairy! [Takes her on her lap. Hans brings a stool and sits at his Mother's feet nursing his knee.]

Mother. Once upon a time, many, many years ago, it happened that a little child was wandering all alone through the streets of a great busy town. It was Christmas Eve, and wherever the child looked he saw shining lights and hurrying happy people. His coat was all too thin, and his little feet and hands were bare and frostbitten. The sharp ice on the ground cut his feet as he walked, and the cold wind tossed his soft hair back from his forehead. But he hardly seemed to feel the cold, for everywhere he was watching the eager, happy faces that hastened by. He looked up into a window and saw a beautiful, wonderful tree, covered with little candles and glittering balls, and all about the tree were gathered merry, laughing children. It seemed as if those happy little ones would be glad to have another little boy amongst them, and the child went quietly up the steps and tapped at the door. But the tall man who opened it said crossly, "Go away. I can't let you in here." So the child went sorrowfully down the steps and wandered on again. As he went along the street many more houses were full of light and happiness, and wherever he saw the candle-covered Christmas trees with their cluster of gay child-faces, he tapped softly at the door, or looked wistfully in at the window. But everywhere the same answer was given him. "You must go on. We can't take you in." Some people looked sorry when they said this, but most of them hardly glanced at him at all before they shut the great doors to keep out the cold wind. At last he came to the very last house—a poor little cottage with just one window. But he could see the light streaming out of it, and wearily made his way to the door. In this little house was a Mother and two little children——

Hans. Just like us!

Mother. And at one side of the room was a cradle——

Gretel. But we haven't got any baby!

Mother. When the little girl heard the soft tapping at the door she said: "Shall I open it, Mother?" And the mother said, "Yes, indeed, we mustn't let anyone stay out in the cold on the beautiful Christmas Eve." So the child opened the door and led in the little, shivering stranger. The mother took him on her lap and rubbed his frozen hands, and folded her warm arms about him. And the children begged him to stay with them always. Then the Mother told them the wonderful beautiful story of the first Christmas, and how the shining angels came to the poor shepherds in the field and sang "Glory to God in the Highest, and on earth peace, good will towards men." And how the shepherds went to find the dear baby in the manger, and the wise men were led by a glorious star to find Him, too. And while she was talking to them the room seemed filled with a strange, soft light that grew lovelier and brighter every moment, until the children, wondering, turned to their mother to ask what it meant. And then they saw that the Child was gone. But the mother said: "Children, I think we have had the real little Christ-Child with us to-night." And after that men used to say that the Christ-Child sometimes came again on Christmas Eve to wander from door to door asking for shelter and love. And sometimes men drive Him away, and He can find no place to rest. But in some homes He is given a glad and loving welcome.

Gretel. Oh, Mother, I wish, I wish He would come here, to us!

Hans [looking to the window]. But, Mother, it is all dark—there is no light in the window for Him! Mother, we've got a little piece of a candle. Mayn't I put it in the cup that's broken and light it?

Mother. Yes, my little son.

[Hans jumps on the box and reaches a bit of
candle from the mantel. Fastens it in the
cup and lights it. Gretel watching
anxiously. Then together they put it in the
window and sing "The Christ-Candle."

THE CHRIST-CANDLE[5]

Kate L. Brown. Elizabeth U. Emerson.

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Note: The air "Hearts and Flowers" can also be used for this song.

Gretel. Oh, do you think the little Christ-Child can see it now, Mother?

Mother. Yes, my darling. He can. And whether He comes wandering through the snowy forests or not, He loves to know that little children think of Him and try to please Him.

Hans. Gretel, I'm going out to see if the light shows outside. [Goes out of the door and peers in at the window. Gretel keeps the door open a crack to watch him.]

Hans [comes in and bends over the fire to warm his hands]. It sparkles on the snow just the way the moonlight does, and it's ever so much brighter than the stars. Do you believe it is as bright as the star of Bethlehem?

Gretel. Oh no! It couldn't be like that! There was never another star that shone like that.

Hans. Let me put another stick on the fire, Mother. If the little Christ-Child comes He will be so cold. [Puts on one or two sticks.]

Gretel. Oh, Hans, I'm afraid He will be hungry, too. Let's toast a piece of our loaf for Him.

Hans. Yes, let me toast it.

Gretel. And I'll cut it. [Both clatter to the table, where Gretel cuts a piece of bread, and fastening it on a stick gives it to Hans, who seats himself on a stool before the fire. Gretel stands beside him. Friedel appears at the window and leans his face against it, watching.]

Gretel. Oh, Hans, be careful, be careful, you're burning it!

Hans. No, I'm not, but I'm toasting my face.

Gretel. Let me hold it awhile. [They change places. Hans stands with hands on hips and feet apart watching her. The Mother sees Friedel and rises, beckoning to him. Friedel leaves the window, and goes to the door, where he taps softly.]

Gretel. Oh, Hans! He's come! He's come! [Gretel drops fork and both fly to the door, throwing it wide open, and standing back. An instant's pause, then Friedel looks from one to the other and stretches out his hands.]

Gretel [shyly taking his hand]. We—we—we were waiting for you. Come in.

Hans. We're glad you've come.

Gretel. Mother. Mother, his hands are like ice. [Leads him to the fire. Hans shuts the door and comes to watch. The Mother comes forward.]

Mother. Sit here, little one, and let me warm the poor cold hands. [Seats Friedel on a stool close to the fire, and bending over him chafes his hands. Hans and Gretel draw away, casting furtive glances at him.]

Hans. Do you believe it is the Christ-Child, Gretel?

Gretel [slowly]. I—I don't know.

Hans [decidedly]. I do. It must be. We put the candle there for Him—and then He came. And you made toast for Him—where is His toast, Gretel?

Gretel. Oh, Hans! I dropped it when I went to the door!

Hans [hurries to pick it up]. Never mind. It didn't hurt it a bit.

Gretel [takes it and brushes it]. He won't care. Mother's hearth isn't a bit dusty. [Both go to Friedel.]

Gretel [timidly offering him the toast]. Hans and I thought you would be hungry, and so we made you some toast.

Friedel. Oh, I am, I am. [Takes a bite and turns to them.] I haven't had anything to eat since—since—Oh, I can't remember! When was it? [Puts his hand to his head.]

Mother [drawing him gently to lean against her]. There, never mind. Eat now.

[Gretel and Hans draw away again.

Hans. Are you sure it is the Christ-Child, Gretel?

Gretel. I don't know. But I think—I think if it was, His face would be all shining.

Mother. Where is your home, my son? And what is your name? Why were you wandering all alone this bitter night?

Friedel. I am Friedel. Just Friedel. Not anything else. And I haven't any home. I wish I had. A home is what I was looking for. I thought perhaps someone would take me in, and let me work to pay for keeping me. But nobody wants a boy, somehow, nobody. [Drops his head in his hands.]

Mother [stroking his head]. You shall never say that again, my son. While we have still our little hut, you shall live with us, and be an elder brother to my little ones.

Hans. You hear that, Gretel? It isn't the Christ-Child, after all. [Rubs his fists in his eyes.]

Gretel. Oh, but Hans, I believe the Christ-Child would like this almost as much. I mean He would like our putting the candle in the window, and making the toast and everything for this poor little boy, almost as much as if it was really for Him. Because it's His little boy, you know.

[The chimes begin.

Hans. Really and truly?

Gretel. Yes, I'm sure! Perhaps the Christ-Child sent him to us. Oh, Hans, listen! The chimes are beginning to ring. [Both run to the window to listen. After a moment voices in the distance begin singing "Oh, Happy Night."]

OH, HAPPY NIGHT[6]

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(Sung by a single voice, several joining in at "We hail thee!")

Gretel [at the end of the first verse]. Oh, Mother dear, do you hear the singing?

[Another verse is sung.

Friedel [wonderingly]. What is it? Angels?

[At the end of the song Fritz and others are
seen passing the window. Hans and
Gretel rush to their Mother.

Gretel. Oh, Mother! He's coming! He's coming!

Hans. Yes, he is! I saw him!

Mother [startled]. Who is coming, my children?

[The door is flung open and the children rush
in, St. Nicholas standing at the door.

Hans and Gretel. St. Nicholas! St. Nicholas!

St. Nicholas. Yes, old St. Nicholas again. Mother Madelon, may I come in?

Mother. May you come in? Ask the little ones here!

[Hans and Gretel run to draw him in.

Fritz. You see, Mother Madelon, our Heinrich heard you say the good saint couldn't find you this year——

Barbara. So we hurried right home——

Heinrich. And as soon as he came we told him about you——

Fritz. And begged him to let us show him the way!

Jan. And of course, he came!

Karl and Oscar. Yes, of course!

Mother. It was very thoughtful of you, little friends.

Hans and Gretel. Thank you, thank you all so much!

Gretel. Oh, good saint, we were so afraid you wouldn't come.

Hans. Mother said you couldn't find us.

St. Nicholas. And I doubt if I could have found you, if it hadn't been for that little gleaming candle that you put in the window to light my way.

Gretel [holding his hand]. Oh, but, St. Nicholas, we ought to tell you that we didn't put the candle there for you.

Katrina. Why, who was it for?

Gretel [softly]. It was for the Christ-Child. We thought perhaps He would be out in the snow and cold—and we were so warm and happy!

St. Nicholas. Let me tell you, little Gretel, though the Christ-Child did not come, it is just as true that He sent me to you as it is that I was led here by the clear shining of the Christ-Candle.

CURTAIN

NOTES ON COSTUME AND SETTING

The parts of the Mother and St. Nicholas should be played by adults: other adult parts taken by young people sixteen to eighteen.

Mother Madelon. Plain dark dress, white kerchief, white peasant's cap.

Hans. (Eight years old.) White shirt, bright-colored vest, full blue trousers, red stockings. Toboggan cap.

Gretel. (Six years.) Full white waist, black bodice, red skirt, or dark skirt and red stockings. White peasant's cap. Both children may wear wooden shoes.

Friedel. (Boy of nine.) Very ragged coat and trousers. Bare feet. No hat. (Should be a thin little fellow whose appearance may give the touch of pathos.)

Old Marta. (May be taken by a boy, if preferred.) Poorly dressed, in old shawl and hood, carrying a bundle of fagots. Face deeply wrinkled and lined, with an ill-tempered expression.

Rich Johann. Velvet coat, flowered vest, full knee-breeches, shoes with silver buckles. Broad-brimmed felt hat. Silver-headed cane. Is very pompous.

Cross Jacob. Rough farm clothes, heavy boots.

Woodcutter. Fur cap, warm gloves, high boots. Carries an ax. Is young, wholesome, rosy with work, and happy.

Star Child. (Child of seven or eight, who can sing.) White gown, hanging straight from neck to ground, with flowing sleeves. Carries a gold wand with a star on the end, and wears a star on the forehead. If taken by a boy, he should wear a short white sleeveless tunic, white stockings, and sandals.

Fritz and his sisters and brothers, children from twelve years down to six, are dressed in ordinary outdoor winter costumes, with as much as possible of bright color about them.

St. Nicholas differs somewhat from the accepted idea of Santa Claus, being dignified, benign, and kindly, rather than lively and jolly. Costume about the same,—long coat, high boots, fur cap, flowing white beard.

Note for Snow Scene. If not feasible to have a winter scene for the back drop, cover the back wall with white, and fasten drooping branches of evergreen at sides, to suggest the limbs of trees just out of sight. The wings may be treated in the same way,—or screens, if given in home or schoolroom. Cover the floor with white, piling with cushions beneath in some places to give an irregular surface, and to make the bank (R. Center), where Friedel lies down. Four or five evergreen trees will make an effective forest, and if quite small, they should be raised to different heights, and banked about with white. Leave opening between them (Back Center), in which the Star Child should appear, coming and going very silently and slowly. Cotton snow upon the little trees and "diamond-dust" over all, help to make this a very pretty scene.

For chimes, play the music of the carol "Oh, Happy Night" on a xylophone, behind the scenes.

TOINETTE AND THE ELVES

IN TWO ACTS

CHARACTERS

Hollyberry

TOINETTE AND THE ELVES

From the story by Susan Coolidge, St. Nicholas for January, 1876.

ACT I

Time: Christmas Eve.

Scene: The kitchen of a peasant cottage. Open fireplace[7] (R.) with large pot, hung from a crane, or standing directly upon the logs. On the shelf above, small bowls and spoons. Beside fireplace, a narrow exit leading to Toinette's room: opposite, door to other rooms. Outside door, R. Back. L. window. Down stage L. a low table with small chairs, where the children sit for their supper, used later by the Elves. Before the fire, a large old-fashioned wooden rocker.

Mother bends over sewing, near window, from time to time glancing at Toinette, who sits dreamily gazing into the fire.

Mother. Toinette! [Toinette, absorbed in thought, apparently hears nothing.] Toinette! Bless the child, is she asleep? Toinette!

Toinette [absently]. Yes, Mother.

Mother. Come, Toinette, it is time to brush the hearth and set the kettle on to boil.

Toinette [without moving]. Yes'm, in a minute.

Mother [sharply]. Toinette, the dusk is coming. It is nearly supper-time, and the candle must be lit. Come, brush the floor quickly, child.

Toinette [flinging impatiently out of her chair]. I hate to work! [Sweeps slowly and absently, stopping to lean on her broom. Enter Marie and Jeannette, with sewing and book, and sit down on low chairs.]

Marie. Toinette, will you show me how to fasten this off?

Toinette [who has been leaning on her broom, begins suddenly to sweep]. No, I won't. I'm busy sweeping.

Marie. Oh, I didn't know you were busy.

Toinette. What are your eyes for? Don't you see me sweeping?

Marie. Well, you were standing still, and I just thought——

Toinette [sweeping furiously]. You're always "just thinking" things.

Jeannette. I'm hungry, Mother.

Mother. Are you, dear?

Toinette [crossly, leaning on her broom]. She's always hungry. I never saw such a little pig.

Marie [putting her arms indignantly around Jeannette]. No, she isn't at all. You're very unkind, Toinette.

Mother. Hush, children. Don't quarrel. [Shakes her head sadly and looks perplexed.]

[Enter Pierre and Marc, the latter with
knife and bits of wood. Marc sits down
against the fireplace, whittling. Pierre
lies at full length before the fire.

Jeannette. Will you tell us a story, Toinette?

Marie [gently]. Sh, dear, Toinette's busy, but I wish she would. She can tell such lovely fairy stories when she likes to. And this is Christmas Eve, Jeannette. Perhaps the fairies are out, looking for good children. Fairies are always helping St. Nicholas; Toinette says so. I wish she would get done sweeping.

Jeannette. When you get done, can't you tell just one story, Toinette?

Toinette. Oh, it's so hard to keep thinking up stories all the time. There now, Marc, you horrid boy, just see how you've scattered chips all over my clean floor. And, Pierre, your old shoes are just as dirty as they can be. What's the use of my sweeping, Mother, when the boys are so careless?

Mother. Try to remember to brush your shoes next time, Pierre. And, Marc, it's better not to bring the whittling into the house.

Toinette. I should think as much.

Pierre [getting up]. I'm sorry I forgot, Mother. Come along, Marc, we'll go out in the woodshed.

Marc [giving the chips a brush towards the fireplace with his cap and then following Pierre]. It's pretty cold in the woodshed. [Looking resentfully at Toinette.] I'd rather be cold than get scolded all the time. [Exeunt boys.]

Mother [rises, lights candle, puts saucepan over the fire]. Now, Toinette, I have other work to do. Finish brushing up [Toinette puts down broom], and set the table. The porridge is over the fire and will be done soon. If you would put your mind on it, daughter, and work quickly, you would get done quickly, and the work would not seem so hard. [Exit.]

Toinette [seizes a tablecloth and approaches the table]. Work quickly! Marie, how ever can I set the table with you and Jeannette in the way, I'd like to know?

Marie. We'll go in Mother's room, Toinette. [Takes Jeannette by the hand. Exeunt.]

Toinette [covering table and slapping bowls and spoons pettishly down upon it]. Work quickly! Don't I work and work all the time? And I'm never done. The work seems hard because it is hard, that's why. Oh, if we weren't so poor, and didn't have to work so hard! [Relaxes her efforts and stands before the fire, dish in hand.] And if we could have beautiful Christmas presents to-morrow, instead of just—anything. [A very gentle knock at the door.] Oh, what was that? [Opens.] The boys must be playing tricks on me. [Knocks again.] Surely, there is someone there. [Opens door and steps outside. Hollyberry slips in behind her and hides behind the door. Re-enter Toinette.] It must be the fairies, I think. [Stands looking out.] This is Christmas Eve and of course it's the right time for good fairies to be about. How I wish I could see one!

Hollyberry. Do you, Toinette? Just open your eyes and you will, then.

Toinette [jumping, rubs her eyes and looks about]. Where? Oh, where?

[Hollyberry comes from behind the door
and makes a low bow.

Toinette [clasping her hands with delight]. Oh, are you really a fairy?

Hollyberry [hands on hips]. Yes, I think I'm a pretty real sort of a fairy. We elves have heard you talking about us and you always tell what's true, so we like you.

Toinette. Oh, I'm so glad, because I love fairies. The children do too, and they are always teasing me to tell them fairy tales.

Hollyberry. I am the leader of the band of elves. My name is Hollyberry, and I've come with a message to you. I told you the elves and fairies all like you. So we are going to give you a Christmas present.

Toinette. Oh, oh! how kind you are.

Hollyberry [arms folded, nodding his head]. Yes, we are. Very kind. But people don't always think so. Toinette, how would you like to be invisible?

Toinette. Invisible? Oh, do you mean to go around wherever I like without being seen? Oh, what fun!

Hollyberry. That's exactly what I mean. We can do it, at any time, because we know how. But mortals like you can only do it on Christmas Eve, and then only when we help them.

Toinette. Do you mean you are going to show me how?

Hollyberry. That's it. There are two things you must do. First you must put fern seed in your shoes.

Toinette. Fern seed? Why, I didn't even know ferns had seeds. I never saw any.

Hollyberry. Of course not. The elves take very good care of that.

Toinette. Where shall I get any?

Hollyberry. I'll attend to that. The second thing is to put on the Cloak of Darkness.

Toinette. The Cloak of Darkness! What is that?

Hollyberry. Don't be impatient, Toinette. [Waves his holly wand and snaps his fingers above his head. The door opens and the other elves enter, carrying between them the gray cloak and a tiny bag.]

Elves [kneeling before Toinette and presenting bag and cloak]. Hail, Toinette!

Hollyberry [touching the kneeling elves as he names them]. Evergreen and Mistletoe, present the magic Cloak of Darkness. Icicle, yield the fairy fern seed. Now, Toinette, put a pinch of fern seed in each shoe, wrap the cloak around you, and then,—well, nobody but an elf can find you.

Mistletoe. The charm is only for to-night.

Hollyberry. And if you get tired of it before bedtime——

Evergreen. Take off the cloak——

Icicle. And empty your shoes——

Hollyberry. And, presto! Toinette is herself again. Now, farewell. [All bow low and go to door.]

Icicle. Good-by.

Mistletoe. We'll take care of the cloak when you're done with it.

Evergreen. We hope you'll like our Christmas present.

[Exeunt elves, laughing mischievously.

Toinette [looking after them]. What cunning little fellows! Oh, what fun. [Examines cloak.] I'll put it on right away. [Exit (R.).]

[Enter Mother (L.), going at once to the fire.

Mother. Why, where is Toinette? The porridge is almost boiling over. Come, children,—Marie, Jeannette, boys. Supper is ready.

[Enter children and take their places at table.
Mother fills bowls from saucepan while
they talk.

Mother [calls]. Toinette, come to supper, daughter.

[Enter Toinette in cloak. All are unconscious
of her presence.

Mother [giving bread to children, who eat hungrily]. Where can Toinette be? Boys, have you seen her?

Marc. No, Mother, she lets us alone when we keep out of her way.

Mother. For shame, Marc. Pierre, go call her,—she may be in her room. [Pierre crosses the room, almost bumping into Toinette, who stands in the way.]

Pierre [at door]. Toinette! Toinette! We're at supper. [A moment's silence. Toinette giggles.] She isn't here, Mother.

Marie. I'm sure I heard her laughing.

Mother. Listen. [Toinette covers her mouth to stifle a laugh. Pierre sits down again and eats.]

Toinette [aside]. This is such fun. But I'm hungry,—how am I going to get anything to eat? [Goes close to the table and, watching her chance, slips Marc's bread off the table and eats.]

Marc. Where's my bread? You took it, Pierre.

Pierre. I did not. Here's my own.

Marie. You must have dropped it on the floor.

Marc [looking under chair]. No, I didn't.

Marie. Well, you ate it, then.

Marc. I never. [Toinette laughs silently.]

Mother. Here's another piece. Never mind where that is gone. I only wish Toinette had it. [Toinette nearly chokes.] The child must have gone out. I will go to the gate and look down the road. [Exit.]

Jeannette. Poor Toinette's all gone.

Marc. Perhaps a bear has eaten her up.

Pierre. If he has, I mean to ask Mother if I can't have her room.

Marie. Marc, don't talk so, you'll frighten Jeannette.

Marc. Well, perhaps it's true.

Marie. Well, you know you'd be sorry if it was.

Pierre. I wouldn't be very sorry.

Marie [horrified]. Oh, you bad boy.

Pierre. Well, of course I don't want her to be hurt.

Marc. But we wouldn't care much if she didn't come back.

Marie. Boys, how can you be so naughty?

Pierre. But, Marie, Toinette never does a thing but scold us when she's around.

Marie. She tells us beautiful fairy stories sometimes.

Marc. That's just it—"sometimes." You don't catch her doing it unless she wants to.

Pierre. And she's just a regular old spoil-sport.

Marc. Oh, bother about Toinette. She'll come back a good deal sooner than we want her. Can't you talk about anything else?

Marie [doubtfully]. Well, it is pleasanter when she isn't here, I know.

Pierre. Of course it is.

Marie. But I hope she's having a good time somewhere else.

[Throughout this conversation Toinette listens,
horrified at first, then angry, then
distressed; at one moment about to exclaim,
then starting forward to strike one
of the boys, and at last covering her face
with her hands and crying. Enter Mother.

Mother [anxiously]. Not a trace can I see of her. Children, have you eaten your porridge? Marie, take Jeannette to bed. [Exeunt Marie and Jeannette.] Boys, go out and cut some wood for our Christmas fire. [Exeunt boys.] There will be no Christmas in this house unless Toinette comes back soon. [Sits down in the rocker to warm herself.] Dear, dear, she is a good girl, and a clever girl, but she is a sore puzzle to me. What can make her so thoughtless and careless and full of discontent? Why, even little Marie is a greater help to me than she is.

[Exit Toinette in great distress. Mother
sits in silence. Enter Toinette without
cloak, throwing herself on her knees at her
mother's feet.

Toinette. Oh, Mother, Mother! [Buries her face in her mother's lap.]

Mother [trying to raise her]. Toinette, my child! Where have you been all this time?

Toinette [with great excitement, half crying]. Oh, I've been here—right here—all the time, only you couldn't see me.

Mother. Toinette!

Toinette. Yes, Mother, it's all true. I'll tell you. A fairy came and lent me the Cloak of Darkness—and—and—I thought it would be such fun, but it was horrid. And then the children—they said such cruel things. Mother, don't they love me at all?

Mother. Mercy, mercy, what is all this about? Fairies—cloak of darkness—the child must have a fever. [Feels Toinette's forehead and takes her hand as if to count her pulse.]

Toinette. No, no! I'm not sick at all. But, Mother, don't you love me?

Mother [puts her arm about Toinette]. Love you, my child? Mother always loves you.

Toinette. But you said I didn't help you. Oh, I wish the fairy had never given me the cloak.

Mother. Fairies again! [Anxiously.] I must put the child to bed at once. Stay by the fire, Toinette. I will get your bed ready. [Rises, leaving Toinette seated on the floor by chair. Exit Mother.]

Toinette [slowly]. Mother thinks I dreamed it—or that I'm sick. But I'm not. It's all true, it's all true. [Covers her face with her hands.] How could the children be so unkind?... But perhaps I'm not always kind to the children. The boys are so provoking—but then I needn't scold them even if they are. And Marie must care a little, for she hoped I was happy somewhere. Happy! How can I be happy? [Gazes at the fire.] Perhaps if I began now, and tried and tried every day, I could be kinder—to the children—and then they would love me more—and I could try to help Mother—and then she needn't be so tired all the time—— And surely, then I would be happy. [Brightly, facing audience, hands clasped on one knee.] Yes, that's just what I'll do. And now, perhaps I can help Mother this very minute—— I'll take the candle up to her. [Jumps up, takes candle from table, pauses in center of the stage.] It is Christmas—I do think that if I begin to-morrow to try to be kind, I will surely succeed. Because Christmas is the very best and happiest day in all the whole year. It was on Christmas Day the angels first sang about Peace on earth, good will to men.

CURTAIN

ACT II

Time: One year later. Christmas Eve.

Scene: Curtain rises showing Toinette and Marie seated, sewing; Jeannette sits upon the floor, leaning against Toinette's knee; Marc leans over the back of her chair; Pierre sits in the big chair rocking and looking on. All are singing a Christmas carol. Enter Mother, pausing a moment in doorway to watch and smile at the group.

Mother. Come, chickabiddies, it is time to stop work.

Marie [going to Mother]. Oh, Mother, must we stop now? Toinette was just going to tell us the Christmas story about the Shepherds and the Star in the East.

Mother. It is supper-time now, and Toinette must set the table. [Exit.]

Pierre. And after supper comes bedtime. Oh, dear.

Toinette [cheerfully folding her work]. Never mind, Pierre, I'll tell it to you to-morrow.

Marc. That'll be Christmas day, Toinette. I wish you could tell it on Christmas Eve.

Toinette. Oh, I think I can tell it better on Christmas day, Marc. Now we all have something to do,—let's get to work. Who will fetch water for me to-night?

Marc and Pierre [springing for the pitcher]. I will, I will.

Marc. It's my turn, Pierre.

Pierre. No, you nearly always get water for Toinette. I'm going to.

Toinette. Let Pierre get the water, Marc, and you go and cut the wood.

Marc and Pierre. All right, Toinette. [Exeunt.]

Marie. What can we do for you, Toinette, dear?

Toinette. Nothing just now, I think. [Toinette is spreading the cloth and setting the bowls and spoons.]

Jeannette. But we want to help, too, dear Toinette. [Clings to her skirt.]

Toinette. I'll tell you what. I'd rather send my two little helpers in to see what they can do for poor busy Mother. She needs them more than I do. [Exit Jeannette.]

Marie [following]. Won't that be helping you too, Toinette?

Toinette. Yes, dear. [Exit Marie.] How good the children are to-night! I do think they are the best brothers and sisters a girl ever had. [Lighting the candle.] And I think they love me more than they ever used to. Oh, I'm so glad! [Tap at the door.] There is someone knocking. [Goes to the door.]

Hollyberry [bowing low]. How do you do, Toinette? A Merry Christmas to you.

Toinette. Oh, how wonderful. It's Hollyberry again, and I was just thinking about you. Won't you come in?

Hollyberry. Just for a moment. [Enter Hollyberry. Toinette closes the door.] I've brought you a Christmas present, Toinette. [Holds out cloak and fern-seed bag.]

Toinette [retreating, hands behind her]. Oh, no, no, no! I know what those are, and I don't want them. Oh! Hollyberry, they made me so unhappy last year.

Hollyberry. You didn't like the elves' gift, then?

Toinette. Oh, it was horrid—I hated it.

Hollyberry [severely]. Do you call that being grateful?

Toinette [confused]. Oh, no—I mean, yes—that is, it was very kind of you—but I didn't like it. Oh, dear!

Hollyberry [kindly]. Never mind, Toinette, I'm only teasing you now. And I advise you to take the fern seed. You will like it better this year, I'm sure.

Toinette [anxiously]. Truly?

Hollyberry. Truly. [Toinette takes bag and cloak.] And if you like it we are going to ask a favor of you. We want you to make us some fern-seed broth.

Toinette. Fern-seed broth?

Hollyberry. Yes, elves are very fond of it, but they don't get any very often, because it has to be made over a fire, and you see we're afraid of fire. We're so little and light, we might be blown in and burned up.

Toinette. But how shall I make it?

Hollyberry. It's very easy. We'll show you how. And now, good-by. We'll come in by and by when the children are in bed. [Exit with a bow.]

Toinette [looking gravely at cloak and bag]. Oh, do I dare use them? I have tried to be kinder—I know the children love me more—— Yes, I will. [Runs out. Boys singing carol in the distance. Enter boys singing, with pitcher and wood. Enter Mother, Marie, and Jeannette.]

Mother. Why, the supper is all ready, but where is that busy bee of ours, Toinette? [Goes to door as if to call.]

Pierre [catches her arm]. Oh, Mother, wait a moment; don't call her yet! You know we've made her some Christmas gifts, and we want to put them on her plate and surprise her.

Mother. Run and get them.

Marc [under his breath]. Hurry, quick, everybody.

[Exit children in haste. Mother takes saucepan
from fire and fills bowls. Enter children
singing carol, each bearing a homemade
gift. They place the presents about
Toinette's place, and all take their places
at the table, sitting with folded hands until
hymn is ended. During the singing Toinette
enters, dressed in cloak, and stands
near door (R.), her hands clasped in
pleasure at the sight.

Marc [looking towards the door]. Oh, I wish Toinette would hurry.

Marie. Won't she be surprised?

Pierre. And won't she look jolly surprised, too? I love to see Toinette when she's surprised. Her eyes get so big and shiny, and she just stares.

Marc. Andrew, the blacksmith's son, thinks his sister is prettier than our Toinette, but I don't.

Pierre [in great scorn]. Aw! I should think not. Our Toinette is just the prettiest girl in the village.

Marie. And the very nicest, too!

Mother [smiling]. And Toinette is Mother's right hand. We all love Toinette! Don't we?

Toinette [softly]. Oh, the dear little things! I can't wait a minute longer. [Exit quickly.]

Children [calling]. Toinette! Toinette! [Enter Toinette without cloak. Shows great surprise.]

Children. Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas, Toinette!

Toinette. Oh, oh! what do I see? [Sits down in her place.] Oh, did you make these lovely things, children?

Pierre. Yes, mademoiselle, we did!

Marc. Every one of them.

Marie. Nobody helped us.

Jeannette. All for you, Toinette, all for you! [Leaves her chair and throws her arms around Toinette.]

Toinette [kissing her]. Oh, thank you, thank you! How beautifully these are made. [Looks them over one at a time.] How good everyone is. I'm so happy I don't know what to do.

Pierre. And to-morrow's Christmas! Hurrah!

Mother. Yes, dear, but if you don't go to bed and to sleep, Christmas won't come. [Takes Jeannette by the hand.] We will leave you to finish, Toinette.

Children. Good-night, Toinette!

Toinette. Good-night, everyone! [Marie and Jeannette throw their arms about Toinette.]

Marie. Good-night again, dear Toinette! [Exeunt all but Toinette, who clears the table, shakes off crumbs, and sets fresh bowls and spoons. The children are heard singing carol. When all is ready and the song is done, Toinette goes to outer door and looks out. After a moment the elves rush in.]

Elves. Here we are, Toinette, here we are!

Hollyberry. Now let's proceed to business. Where is the saucepan, Toinette! Icicle, give me the honey-dew; Mistletoe, you have the fern seed.

[Toinette produces the saucepan and the
elves crowd around her and hand her the
articles named. The honey-dew is supposed
to be in a jar—or pitcher—or anything
curious or unusual in appearance;
the fern seed in a quaint box.

Hollyberry. Now, Evergreen, give me the holly stick she must stir it with.

[Toinette puts it on the fire, the elves watching
with great interest.

Hollyberry. It's very simple, but it must be made with great care.

Mistletoe. You must always stir it the same way!

Evergreen. Or else it will curdle.

Icicle. And you must never let it scorch!

[Toinette bends over fire, stirring broth. A
very gay waltz in very quick time is played
softly outside, and the four elves dance and
tumble about, coming up one at a time to
peep over Toinette's shoulder. They
show great fear of the fire, however.

Toinette. Now, little Elves, the feast is ready!

Elves. Oh, joy! Oh, joy! [All seat themselves at table, Toinette pours out broth, and they eat. Music continues, Toinette refills bowls, and elves drink from them, tipping their heads far back and making grotesque motions. Music grows fainter. Elves rise and bow to Toinette.]

Elves. Thank you, Toinette! Thank you!

Evergreen. We've had a merry feast.

Mistletoe. And fairies are never ungrateful.

Icicle. When you need us, you'll find us ready.

[Evergreen, Mistletoe, and Icicle go outside
and stand about door. Hollyberry
remains within.

Toinette. But I haven't thanked you at all!

Hollyberry. No need of that, Toinette. [He brushes door-post with his holly wand.] Be lucky, house! We are the luck-bringers, and we have feasted here! [Touches Toinette on the head and hands.] Be lucky, Toinette! Good temper, and kindness, and unselfishness are the very best good luck, after all. Now, good-by!

Elves. Good-by, good-by! Merry Christmas to all!

[Exeunt. Toinette closes the door and goes
slowly to hearth, where she sits down on
floor, resting her arm on a chair and her
head on her hand.

Toinette [softly]. The fairies have been here, and they have taught me a lesson.... After all, it isn't the fairies who make the children love me, or me love the children.... I think—yes, I'm sure—that it is Christmas that makes us all love each other!

[Her head drops, and she falls asleep. The
children's voices are heard, singing, very
softly and distinctly, the last verse of the carol: