VI. The Christmas Waits, in times of old,
Sang carols sweet, though the night was cold,
And wandered thus, from door to door,
Till morning dawned, in days of yore.
Tableau: The Christmas Waits. [The curtain does not rise until the verse is ended, then shows empty stage. The Waits begin their carol behind the scenes, marching single file till the first couple is opposite the opening, when they turn, join hands, and enter two by two. The march of the Waits may be as simple or as elaborate as desired, or as the size of the stage permits. Or they may walk to the footlights, and stand there during a part of their song. The smallest couple should, of course, lead. The stage, darkened for the earlier tableaux, should be made bright for this march. At the end of the march, the Waits pass out as they entered, and the back curtain is dropped.][18]
[The Brownie comes forward and stands by
Ted, tapping him with the wand.
Brownie. Merry Christmas, Ted! It has come at last! [Rushes away and vanishes in chimney.]
Ted [sits up, stretches, yawns, rubs his eyes, and looks around]. Why! I do believe I've slept here all night! [Sits on table.] And, my! maybe you think I haven't been dreaming! Guess I'll go see what time it is. [Goes to door, turns, and sees stockings.] Jiminy Christmas, just look at those stockings! [Exit.]
[Enter Nurse with duster. Sees stockings.
Nurse. Well, well! did I ever! Santa Claus has been pretty good to them this year.
Marjorie [without, calling]. Maggie! Maggie! Mamma says we may have our stockings right off now. Please bring them to us, quick!
Nurse. That I will, Miss Margie, fast as ever I can! [Lifts them down.] Crammed full, I declare! and heavy!—heavy as that good-for-nothing Bridget's cake!
[Exit Nurse. Enter Brownie, cautiously
following her to door.
Brownie [peeping out]. I've got to see the end of this experiment! [Flies back to chimney and hides.]
[Enter Nurse.
Nurse [dusting]. Old Santa Claus is mighty good to these children. Fills up stockings like those, and then comes himself and brings a tree on top of all that. They must be pets of his.
[Enter Ted dejectedly, sits down, and drops
his head on his arms.
Nurse. Dear, dear! whatever is the matter, Master Ted?
Ted [darkly]. Oh, go downstairs, Maggie, and you'll see!
Nurse. Mercy on us! what's happened? [Shakes him.]
Ted. Oh, dear, oh, dear! the children don't like their stockings!
Nurse. What's that you say?
Ted [very despairingly]. Oh, go away! Go downstairs, and you'll see.
Nurse [in tragic tones]. Such a thing never happened in this blessed house before! [Rushes out.]
Ted [sitting up]. Oh, dear, what shall I do about it? It's just dreadful, and it's all my fault. [Brownie pokes his head out.] They don't want my things, either, or I'd be glad to give them all I got. [Puts his head down again. Enter Kitty, Marjorie, and Robin, disconsolately. Girls sit by fire, Robin at table.]
Robin. Well, Kitty, do you think Santa Claus couldn't read our letters?
Kitty. I don't know what to think!
Marjorie. Well, how could he make such dreadful mistakes?
Robin [rubbing his eyes]. Didn't bring one single thing I asked for—didn't bring a thing but books and puzzles!
Kitty [elbows on knees and chin in hands]. Brought me a box of fishing tackle—and I just hate to fish!
Marjorie [putting handkerchief to eyes]. He gave me big rubber boots—and I don't like to wade in the brook—I'm afraid of snakes!
[Ted, in the depths of woe, slips to the floor
and rests his head on his chair.
Robin. Don't see why Ted feels so badly—Santa Claus gave him everything he asked for!
Kitty. Yes, and Rosy's stocking was all right. I'm glad she got what she wanted—bless her little heart!
Marjorie [suddenly]. Oh, Kitty, what shall we do when Santa Clans comes and asks us how we liked them?
Kitty. I don't care—I can't thank him for those horrid old fish-hooks!
Robin [with decision]. I'm just going to tell him he can take his puzzles and give them to some other boy!
[Enter Father and Mother, sharing the
general gloom.
Father [in a puzzled tone]. It's the most singular thing!
Mother. I never heard of Santa Claus making a mistake before.
Father. Two empty cigar boxes in my stocking!
Ted [aside, dismally]. Those were for Robin and me to make lanterns of!
Father. I'm sure I don't know who wants those!
Mother. And a roll of the muslin I make sails of for the boys' boats, in my stocking! With some old rags!
Ted [aside again]. Kite-tails!
Father. Well, Santa Claus has certainly lost his mind!
Mother. Well, he'll be here very soon, and perhaps we shall find out what these queer presents mean. [Looks at her watch.] Come, children, you must get your faces washed, and look as bright as you can for him.
Father. Perhaps, after all, it's just some joke of his.
[Exeunt all but Ted.
Ted [jumping up]. I know! I'll see Santa Claus first, and beg him to take back these things—— [Runs to fireplace, calling softly.] Oh, Santa Claus! Santa Claus! do hurry! [Sleigh bells in distance.] Oh, Santa Claus!
Santa Claus [up chimney]. Who's that I hear calling me?
Ted. It's me—me—me! Ted Bird! Oh, please hurry!
Santa Claus. Yes, yes! But this chimney's such a tight squeeze! [Loud jingling.]
Ted. Oh, please be quiet! Please don't make such a noise!
[Enter Santa Claus, through fireplace, bowing
low to Ted.
Santa Claus. Not make a noise? I'd just like to know who has a better right to make a noise than I?
Ted. Oh, yes, I know, but I must speak to you before the others come in! [Pulls up a chair, stands on it, and puts his arm across Santa Claus' shoulders.]
Santa Claus. What's all this secrecy about?
Ted. It's just this, Santa Claus. The Brownie let me help him last night, and I told him such nice things to put in the stockings, and now nobody likes them, and everything's in a terrible muddle!
Santa Claus. Oho! So you've been finding out that it isn't so easy, after all, to give people what they want, have you?
Ted. But, Santa Claus, I truly thought they would like it, and now it's just dreadful! What shall I do? If you'll only give them what they do want, you can take back all my things! I wish you would! Don't you think you could, just for this once? [Rose runs in.]
Rose. Oh, Santa Claus! Santa Claus! [Exit, calling.] Come, Papa, come, Mamma, here's Santa Claus! Robin! Marjorie! Kitty! [Enter all. The older children hang back, Rose runs to Santa Claus and stands by him.]
Father [shaking hands with Santa Claus]. How do you do, sir, how do you do?
Mother. We're very glad to see you again, Santa Claus. [Motions others to come, Nurse also urging them in pantomime.]
Santa Claus [patting Rose's head, and looking at other children]. I hear there are some children here who weren't pleased with what I brought them. How's this? [Children turn away, and hang their heads in embarrassment.]
Santa Claus [to Father]. What does this mean? Can you explain it, Mr. Bird?
Father. Well—a—you see, the stockings really weren't filled after your usual thoughtful manner.
Santa Claus [bursts into a loud laugh, at which the children turn in injured astonishment]. Well, well! That's a good joke!
Kitty [in an injured tone]. We didn't think it was a joke at all, Santa Claus.
Santa Claus. Well, my dear, you will when I tell you about it. You see, I had a new helper, last night, and it wasn't to be expected that one so new to the business wouldn't make some mistakes. Well, this one made a good many,—— [to Ted] didn't he?
Ted [dolefully]. I should think he did! He didn't do anything else at all!
Santa Claus. But when he found out about it, he felt very badly, indeed,—— [to Ted] didn't he?
Ted. He never felt worse in his life!
Santa Claus. So he came to me and begged me to fix the matter for him, and I've agreed to do it. He never suspected that I knew about it before he told me, but I did know, all the time, and so I've come prepared to make it up to you for all the trouble Ted caused——
All. Ted!
Santa Claus. Yes, Ted. [With pretended fierceness.] He meddled with my business last night.
Children [shocked]. Oh, Santa Claus!
Santa Claus. But I'm going to forgive him, because I think he learned a good many things about Christmas while he was at it. And I never could bear to see anyone unhappy when I pay my yearly call, so come along, children, come, Father and Mother Bird, and we'll see if we can't find something to suit you all under the branches of my Tree![19]
[Unveiling of Christmas Tree follows. Children
mingle with audience, and general
distribution of presents takes place.
For the parents, nurse, and children, ordinary costumes. Adult parts taken by older girls and boy. Ages of children as indicated in cast.
Brownie. Wears a close-fitting suit of dark brown canton flannel, with trimmings of lighter brown or tan—a small collar, cuffs, and a belt with long points. The shoes are long, with points turned up at the toes, and the cap, close-fitting, hides the hair and covers the neck at the back, but allows the ears to show. It is finished with a point (stuffed and wired to keep it upright) which comes from the back and curves above the head.
All the Brownie's actions and motions should be startlingly sudden and swift. He should alternate between absolute stillness, and a quickness like a wild bird's.
A great deal of humor can be put into the scene of disappointment over the stockings, especially by the older girls and boy who play the adult parts.
Prepare a double set of stockings, one empty, the other filled; the Brownie carries out the empty ones, and returns with the full ones. As these are not examined on the stage, they may be stuffed with anything that is most convenient. Have in readiness a row of small hooks on the mantel, for hanging them.
For Santa Claus' costume, see note, p. 313.
Jack Horner. May be dressed, if desired, in Kate Greenaway style, but ordinary costume is all that is required. Jack recites the nursery rhyme, at the end pulling a large plum out of a brown paper pie.
Mrs. Santa Claus. A plump little girl in a long dark dress, white apron and kerchief, big white cap with wide frill, and large spectacles on her nose. One hand holds the corner of her apron full of toys, the other is stretched out as if dispensing gifts to the children.
Young Santa Claus. Little boy in boots, thick coat, toboggan cap and mittens, well covered with white cotton snow, and sprinkled at the last moment with diamond dust. He stands with one hand on a tall red chimney, the other just lifting his heavy pack of toys. Make chimney by covering a long dry-goods box with red, and painting bricks with ordinary black ink. Set on stage for this tableau.
"Merry Christmas." Little boy, daintily dressed, his arms full of toys, with a drum, a horse, etc., piled at his feet.
"No Christmas." A very ragged boy and girl. The boy stands with his left arm around his little sister, his right hand holding hers. The child looks up into his face confidingly.
The Christmas Waits. Four boys and four girls between six and twelve years of age. These children may be elaborately dressed, after Seventeenth Century pictures, or very simply—the girls in white kerchiefs and caps, the boys in short capes of any dull black material, with steeple hats, made of cardboard covered with black. These children should have good voices for the carol, "Noël! Noël! the Christ is born!"[20] March as described in text.
These tableaux are arranged on a small stage or platform behind scene at back, upon which the light is concentrated, the main stage being darkened. Properties should be in readiness, and the children must be taught to take their poses quickly and without noise.
For this small stage or platform a kindergarten table serves excellently, covered with dark green, a step being placed for the use of the Waits in their march. If practicable, a curtain made to match the scene, and rise for the tableaux, may be used, but plain curtains, hung like portières, and parting in the center, are also effective. Attention should not in any way be drawn to this curtain, in order that the first tableau may come as a surprise to the audience. The point of chief importance is that, whatever the arrangement of the curtain, it should work silently and without hitch.
IN TWO ACTS
| Mistress Delight Goodspeede. | ||
| Roger | } | Her children. |
| Myles | } | |
| Nathan | } | |
| Patience | } | |
| Prudence | } | |
| Eaglefeather, son of an Indian chief. | ||
| Elder Jonathan Hopkins | } | Colonists |
| Deacon William Porter | } | |
| Goodman John Turner | } | |
| Dominie Peter Cobb | } | |
| Gilbert Appleton, a hunter | } | |
| Mistress Submit Wells | } | |
| Mistress Praisever Porter | } | |
| Desire Porter | } | |
| } | and | |
| Reuben Turner | } | Children |
| Gershom Porter | } | |
| Jared Perkins | } | |
| Jane Porter | } | |
| Priscilla Wells | } | |
The action takes place in a small New England village, not far from Boston, in the early days of the colonies.
Prudence
Eaglefeather
Suggested by a story in St. Nicholas for December, 1880, by S.J. Prichard.[21]
Time: Evening of December 18th.
Scene: Kitchen in Mistress Goodspeede's cottage, a simple and bare little room. Open fireplace[22] [R.], with exit beside it supposed to lead to loft. Back R., door; L., window, opening upon a desolate winter scene. L., door, leading to another chamber. Down L., a spinning-wheel. Furniture, a few plain chairs and stools, and a settle. By the window a table where little Prudence and Patience are washing the supper dishes. Patience stands upon a stool in order to reach the dishpan more easily, Prudence wipes the dishes and lays them on the table.
Patience [severely]. Prudence, if thee's not very careful, I know thee'll drop the platter!
Prudence. Oh, no! Patience, I'm being very careful. I wouldn't let it drop for anything. It's Mother's very best platter, too.
Patience. And if thee broke it, who knows if dear Mother could ever get a new one? She hath told me many a time she brought it with her from Old England, and she saith the like cannot be found here—even in Boston town.
Prudence [gives it an admiring look, then lays it cautiously on the table]. I'm sure it's the most beautiful platter that ever was seen. Are there many more dishes, Patience, dear?
Patience [in a motherly tone]. No. Poor little maid, I fear me thou'rt very weary. Here—just these cups, and I'll help thee. [Gets down from stool and helps to wipe one or two cups.] Where are the boys, I wonder? You and I, Prudence, can never, never reach to put the dishes away on the shelf.
Prudence. No, but brother Roger or Myles can do it. Mother says they grow like tall weeds.
Patience. And the parson says they are brave striplings. [Sighs.] I would I were tall and strong. Then I should never be afraid of——
Prudence [looks fearfully over her shoulder]. Afraid of what, Patience?
Patience [putting her arm around Prudence]. Oh, never mind, Prudence, dear, not afraid of, of—anything.
Prudence [pushes her back and shakes her finger], I know, Patience, thee was going to say—Indians! Oh, Patience, doesn't thee wish Mother'd come home? [Lays her head on Patience's shoulder. Myles and Nathan pass the window.]
Patience. Never mind, sister, here come Myles and Nathan. [Enter the boys.] Myles, has thee seen Roger?
Nathan. Roger has gone to fetch our Mother home.
Prudence [going to table]. Oh, Myles, won't thee please put the dishes up for us? Patience and I are far too little. [Nathan and Prudence carry dishes one at a time to Myles, who puts them on mantel. Patience wrings out her dishcloth.]
Myles. Where is Mother, Patience?
Patience. Mistress Submit Wells hath a fever, and after supper Mother went to see if there was aught she could do to help.
Nathan [looking out of the window]. I see Mother and Roger coming up the hill now.
Patience. Quick, Nathan! Empty the pan for us! [Patience opens the door for Nathan, who carries pan out. Patience hangs up dishcloth in haste.] Mother must find everything neat when she comes.
[Re-enter Nathan, putting pan in cupboard
or under table.
Myles [mockingly]. Thou art a great housewife, Patience.
Prudence [joyfully]. Here they are!
[Enter Mother and Roger. Prudence,
Patience, and Nathan gather about her
while she takes off her cape and follow her
to the door (L.) when she puts it away.
Roger, hanging up his hat, goes to fire.
Patience. How did thee find Mistress Wells, Mother?
Mother. Much better to-night, daughter.
Prudence [catching at her skirts]. Thou'lt not go back, then, Mother?
Mother. No, little Prudence, not to-night.
Roger. It's fearsome cold out. Do stir the fire, Myles. [Warms his hands, while Myles stirs fire.]
Nathan. Then come sit down with us by the fire, Mother. Thee surely won't work any more to-night?
Mother. I am willing, Nathan, but I must be knitting. With three great lads who wear out so many stockings, I am kept more than busy, even if the good parson did not exhort us never to be idle. [Exit and re-enter with knitting.]
Patience [drawing up her Mother's chair and arranging stools]. Here, Mother, here's thy big chair. Prudence and I will get our stools. Oh, Roger, do get out of the way! Make haste! Thee's such a giant thee'll block the firelight out entirely.
[Roger gets up and stands before the fire,
while the Mother sits down, Prudence
beside her with a corncob doll and Patience
at her knee, also knitting. Myles
sits with his back against the chimney and
Nathan lies at full length before the
fire.
Roger [good-humoredly]. What a pity thee didn't name that child Impatience, Mother. It would become her so much better.
Mother [while Patience bends her face low over her knitting]. Does thee think it would make it any easier for her to be good, Roger?
Roger. Well, I'm glad thou gavest us good sober English names. I'm sure 'twould never help me to be good if I had been named Hate-Evil, like Elder Hopkins' son. Think of it—Hate-Evil Hopkins!
Myles. And if Father had called me Love-the-Truth or Have-Courage, instead of naming me after our fine Captain Standish, I know I never would have tried half so hard to be brave and truthful.
Mother. That was what Father cared for, Myles, whatever thy name might have been.
Roger. One of us is fitly named, at any rate, Mother, and that is thyself, Mistress Delight Goodspeede! [Bows.]
Patience. Yes, Mother is our Delight.
Myles. And everybody's else, too.
Mother [laughing]. Take care, children, you will make me vain, and then the parson will preach a whole sermon about vanity, and call out in the midst of it, "Delight Goodspeede, stand forth!"
Roger. How terrible! [All laugh.]
Nathan. He calleth vanity a light and shallow thing, but I'll warrant me he would turn his hour-glass at the least four times while he discoursed upon it.
Myles. More terrible still!
[All laugh again. A knock at the door.
Roger goes to answer it, Nathan sits up
with interest, and Prudence, who has been
walking her corncob doll up and down,
rushes to her Mother's chair.
Roger [his hand on the lock]. Who knocks?
Indian [without]. Eaglefeather!
Roger [turning to his Mother]. Mother, 'tis the Indian boy you helped when he was wounded last winter. May I let him in?
Mother. He hath always been friendly. Open for him, Roger.
Roger [opening the door]. Come in, Eaglefeather! Thou'rt right welcome.
[Enter Indian, bow in hand. Myles and
Nathan go to him.
Mother. What does he want, Roger? Mayhap he is hungry.
Roger [pointing to his mouth]. Hungry, Eaglefeather? Want something to eat? Bread?
Indian [shakes his head]. No hungry. Braves go hunt. [Draws his bow.] Kill much, much, much deer. [Spreads out his arms.] No hungry; cold. [Folds his arms and shivers.] Can warm? [Boys bring him to fire.]
Mother. Yes, indeed; make room for him, boys.
Myles. He can stay as long as he likes, mayn't he, Mother?
Mother [smiles and nods at the boy]. Yes, we know he is our friend. We trust him.
Nathan. Doesn't thee remember how he taught us to shoot, and make baskets for thee and the girls?
Indian. Hmph! Eaglefeather teach young brave much more some day. Many, many new thing.
Nathan. Oh, that is good news. What things, Eaglefeather?
Indian. Eaglefeather not tell. Eaglefeather show, to-morrow. Tired now. March long, long time.
Mother. Yes, poor lad. Let him rest now, boys.
[Indian lies before fire, Roger and Myles
as before, Nathan behind Mother's
chair.
Roger. Thou'rt always the one to think of making folks comfortable, Mother. What would Mistress Wells say if she saw Eaglefeather here now?
Myles. He never would be beside her kitchen fire.
Nathan. Not if he was frozen stiff.
Mother. For shame, boys; Mistress Wells hath been very kind to us.
Patience. I think she is a very sour-visaged woman, and I can't see why thee wants to help her.
[Mother gazes thoughtfully into the
fire.
Roger [watching her]. I know what Mother is thinking of!
Mother. Tell us, then, Roger, if thou be a wizard.
Roger. Mother is thinking that in Old England this is Yule-tide——
Mother. Verily, I believe thou art a wizard, Roger, for thou'st guessed aright!
Myles and Nathan. Tell us about the Yule-tide, Mother.
Prudence. Is this the Christmas day, Mother?
Roger. No, Prudence. It's the twenty-fifth that is Christmas. Isn't it, Mother?
Myles. Just a week from to-day?
Mother. Yes, children, just a week from to-day it will be Christmas in Old England.
Patience. But why did Mistress Wells make thee think of Christmas?
Mother. 'Twas what Myles said about Mistress Wells and Eaglefeather here. 'Twas because Christmas in my father's home in Old England was the time of all others when people did kind and friendly deeds, when poor folks came to the houses of rich men without fear of being driven away, and our homes were open to all who needed food and warmth.
Prudence [wonderingly]. Why, then, Mother, I think it must have been like heaven!
Nathan. Mother, doesn't thee sometimes wish we were all back in England once more?
Mother [earnestly]. Never wish that, my son.
Myles. Not after all the bitter cold winters and hardships here, Mother?
Mother. 'Tis the very hardships we have endured that will build up a new and better England for us here, Myles—— But the Old Christmas was a happy time.
[Eaglefeather, who has been sleeping, sits
up, and from this point listens intently.
Roger. Won't thee tell us more about it, then?
Mother. I've told thee many times already, Roger, how the great Yule-log was brought in and lighted on Christmas Eve—such a monster log that it would burn until Twelfth Night. We always saved a bit of it, then, to light the next year's log. The old folks said that was for luck. All the young folks went out into the forest to gather the Christmas greens, holly, mistletoe, and long festoons of ground pine for wreaths. Ah, it was merry work, and the great hall in my father's house was a brave sight when we had decked it in the green. And on Christmas day we had our Christmas bough covered with shining candles and bright gifts for each other.
Prudence. How beautiful, Mother!
Mother. And we were awakened at dawning by the poor children of the village singing their joyous carols beneath our windows.
Myles. How I wish I could hear them!
Roger. The singing in our meeting on the Sabbath isn't very joyful, is it, Myles?
Myles. Beshrew me if 'tis. This is the way the elders and deacons stand and sing. [Myles and Roger stand side by side, eyes closed and hands folded before them, droning an old psalm tune.][23]
Tune: "Windsor."
My days consume away like Smoak
Mine anguish is so great.
My bones are not unlike a hearth
Parched and dry with heat.
Such is my grief I little else
Can do but sigh and groan.
So wasted is my flesh I'm left
Nothing but skin and bone.
Like th' Owl and Pelican that dwell
In desarts out of sight
I sadly do bemoan myself
In solitude delight.
The Ashes I rowl in when I eat
Are tasted with my bread
And with my drink are mixed the tears
I plentifully shed.
Mother [rising]. Roger and Myles, silence! I will not have this wicked mocking of our good elders. Haven't you heard the parson tell the story of how the bears ate the children who mocked Elisha?
Roger. Forgive us, Mother, we meant no disrespect.
Myles. But, verily, the sound of the singing maketh me almost as sad as the sight of the bears could.
Nathan. But, Mother, why do the good fathers never allow us to have a Christmas?
Roger. There can be no wrong in the things thou'st told us. Peace and good will and neighborliness.
Mother. But that was not all, Roger. With the feasting and merriment came much that the good Puritan Fathers did well to abolish.
Prudence [stands at Mother's knee]. But, Mother, isn't a birthday always a happy day? [Mother nods and smiles.] Then I should think the Lord Christ's birthday would be the very happiest day of all, and the good parson would like to have us sing and be joyful and glad.
Mother [kisses her]. Thou'rt too little to understand it yet, my Prudence. [Rises.] Come, we have sat too long with our talking. If our candles are not soon out, the tithing-man will be tapping at our door and reproving us. [Leads the two little girls and Nathan to door (L.)]. Come, children. Myles, see that the fire is safe. Roger, is the door fast? [Myles and Roger attend to the fire and the door.]
Indian. Must Eaglefeather go now?
Mother. Does thee think, lad, that savage though thou art, I would drive thee out into the bitter night? No, there is too much Yule-tide in our hearts for that! I have no bed for thee, but lay thee down by the fire and welcome. [Begins to wind the clock.] Boys, bring in some straw for a bed—— Stay a moment. Straw will not do. A chance spark from the fire might light it, and burn the house above our heads. There is an old mat in the shed without. See if you can find it.
[Exeunt all three boys; Mother takes down
candles from mantel and slowly extinguishes
one; holds the other in her hand, absently
snuffing it. Stands facing audience.
Mother [musingly]. I told little Prudence she was too young to understand, yet with my years, am I quite sure that I understand it myself? No, the good Fathers can never crush and kill the loving Christmas spirit. [Enter boys, quietly arranging mat, on which Indian stretches himself. Roger goes to fasten door.] Why should little children not be joyous and glad on the holy day? Why should not I help them to celebrate it? [Hesitates, then firmly and decidedly.] I believe—I will do it! Boys, come here. [Boys come to her side. Reuben Turner and Gershom Porter pass window, glance in curiously, then bend close, listening to all that is said.] Roger, what would thee and Myles say to a Christmas bough of our very own?
Myles. Oh, Mother!
Roger. Does thee mean truly, Mother?
Mother. Of a truth I do mean it, Roger.
Roger. But, Mother, they will persecute thee——
Myles. And drive us all into the wilderness——
Roger. And with Father away on his ship, who could take care of thee?
Mother. I have come into one wilderness before, Myles. I am not afraid.
Roger. But how can we do it, Mother?
Mother. I will go up to Boston town to-morrow—I can easily walk there and back again before 'tis dusk—and buy what little things I may for gifts. I hear that a ship has but now come into port.
Myles. Doesn't thee wish it was Father's vessel, Roger?
Roger. Then wouldn't we have a Christmas!
Mother. 'Twill be many a weary month before Father's ship returns, I fear. But whatever this bark may be, she hath surely brought some small trinkets that will do for us. I'll find them and bring them home with me. Then on the day before Christmas thou and Myles must go into the woods and cut a small evergreen, as perfect a one as you can find. At dark on Christmas Eve you can bring it home, and when the children are in bed we will dress it. Then, early on Christmas dawn, before the neighbors are stirring, we will light it and wake the little ones.
Roger. But, Mother, they will surely find us out!
Myles. That Reuben Turner is always spying upon us. And so is Gershom Porter. [Boys at window dodge below the sill.]
Roger. And, Mother, they think thou art only half a Puritan now, because thou canst sometimes smile and art not always stern and sour like the rest.
Myles. And they say thou art vain and frivolous because thou keep'st brazen fire-dogs and candlesticks instead of iron ones.
Roger. And dost not dress thy daughters in solemn black.
Mother [laughing]. Do they say so? What a list of sins! [Seriously.] With thee and Myles to help me I am not afraid. We will have our Christmas bough—no, not a bough, but a whole tree—if we needs must light it at midnight and cover the window with blankets! Now get quickly to bed in the loft. 'Tis shocking late!
[All turn to go, boys, R., Mother to door
(L.).
Myles [running after her]. Mother, Mother! won't thee teach us some Christmas carols, some real joyful ones—so I can forget about those bears?
Mother. Yes, yes, Myles. Now go quickly. This shall be the first Christmas in New England.
CURTAIN
Time: Before dawn of December 25th.
Scene: Same as before. Stage quite dark except for firelight. Window covered with a blanket. Lights high on one side at back to represent moonlight when door is opened. Enter Mother [L.] with a lighted candle. Goes to door [R.].
Mother [calling]. Roger! Myles! Make haste. [Looks at clock, arranges fire, examines blanket hurriedly.]
Myles [softly]. We're coming, Mother. [Enter Myles and Roger (R.).]
Roger. Are the others waked yet, Mother?
Mother. Yes, they are dressing. Quickly now, bring in the tree whilst I see if they need help. [Exit (L.), leaving candle on mantel. Boys open outer door.]
Roger. How cold it is. See, Myles, the moon hath not yet set.
Myles. Yes, yes. Come, Roger. [Disappear (L.).]
[Reuben Turner and Gershom Porter
at door, look cautiously in, then peer
around after the boys.
Reuben [softly]. I see naught of any Christmas bough.
Gershom. Yet we surely heard them planning—— How angry the parson would be. I believe he would even drive them away like the Quakers.
Reuben. My father bade me look and bring him word if what they said was true.
Gershom. Beshrew me, if they haven't covered the window so that none may see them.
[Myles and Roger heard returning with
exclamations "Have a care!" "Gently
now!" etc. Reuben and Gershom hide
themselves without. Enter Roger and
Myles with the tree already decked and
fastened in a small wooden box, which they
place in center of stage. Their backs
turned, Reuben and Gershom appear
again at door, hold up their hands in horror,
whisper together, and make signs of
caution. Watch until Mother appears,
then they vanish.
Myles. There: we got it in quite safely, Roger. Dost think the Christmas boughs in England could have been prettier?
Roger [at door]. Mother, we're ready now.
[Enter Mother, taking candle again.
Mother. Roger, Roger! shut the door at once, careless boy! Art mad? [Roger fastens door.] The children are nearly ready and grow impatient. Make torches, both of you, and help me to light the candles.
[Boys take splinters of wood from the fireplace
and all go about the tree, lighting
candles, arranging gifts more firmly, etc.,
while Patience and Prudence, without,
sing "Waken, Christian Children."
(From "Christmas Carols New and Old," Novello & Company.)