UC-NRLF 
 
 *B 2<n 12M 
 
 THE HOUSE OF 
 THE HEART &. 
 OTHER PLAYS 
 FOR CHILDREN 
 
 BY 
 CONSTANCE DARCYMACKAY 
 
1 
 
 4 
 
THE HOUSE OF THE 
 HEART AND OTHER 
 PLAYS FOR CHILDREN 
 
 Designed for use in the schools 
 
 BY 
 
 CONSTANCE D'ARCY MACKAY 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 
 
<&A*^tm -te/O&g 
 
 Copyright, 1909, 
 
 BY 
 
 HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 
 
 Published November, 1909 
 
 No performance of these plays may be given without full ac- 
 knowledgment to the author and publishers. Where a play is 
 wot the title play of the volume, as in the case of The Elf Child, 
 acknowledgment should be made to read as follows : " By Con- 
 stance D'Arcy Mackay ; from The House of the Heart and Other 
 Plays for Children; Copyright, 1009, by Henry Holt and Com- 
 pany; Produced by arrangement with the publishers." Where a 
 play is named in the title of the volume of course the acknowl- 
 edgment need not state what volume it is from. 
 
 Amateurs may produce the plays in this volume upon pay- 
 ment to the publishers of $2.00 for each and every performance 
 of any one play. Professional actors must apply for acting 
 rights to the author, in care of the publishers. 
 June, ig2<? 
 
 PRINTED IN THE U. S. A. 
 

 TO MY MOTHER 
 
 729299 
 
Speaking of the dramatic instinct Presi- 
 dent Eliot of Harvard has lately said: 
 
 Here is this tremendous power over 
 children . . . that ought to be utilized 
 for their good. It is true that the 
 dramatic instinct is very general. . . . 
 So I say that this power . . . is one 
 that ought to be at least in every 
 school in this country, and moreover 
 I believe that it is going to be. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 The one-act plays contained in this volume are 
 designed in the hope of filling the needs of public 
 school performances, ethically, dramatically, and edu- 
 cationally. In consequence each play contains a dis- 
 tinct lesson, whether of courage, gentle manners, or 
 contentment. The settings are simple, and the cos- 
 tumes such as are within the compass of the school- 
 room. Full directions for costumes, scene setting, and 
 dramatic action are given with each play. Several of 
 the plays are especially adapted to holiday seasons such 
 as Christmas, Thanksgiving, etc., and all of them have 
 stood the test of actual production — that of " The 
 House of the Heart " was given by the New York 
 Educational Theatre for Children and Young People; 
 those written for the out-of-doors have had production 
 in various parks and playgrounds; and the rest have 
 been acted in the public schools and social settlements 
 of New York and other cities. 
 
 Thanks are due to the St. Nicholas, The Woman's 
 Home Companion, The Delineator, The Housekeeper, 
 The Churchman, The Normal Instructor, and Primary 
 Plans for their kind permission to reprint these plays. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The House of the Heart .... i 
 
 The Gooseherd and the Goblin . 
 
 
 
 35 
 
 The Enchanted Garden 
 
 
 
 59 
 
 Nimble-Wit and Fingerkin . 
 
 
 
 
 77 
 
 A Little Pilgrim's Progress 
 
 
 
 
 . IOI 
 
 A Pageant of Hours 
 
 
 
 
 . 129 
 
 On Christmas Eve . 
 
 
 
 
 143 
 
 The Elf Child . 
 
 
 
 
 169 
 
 The Princess and the Pixies 
 
 
 
 
 . 187 
 
 The Christmas Guest . 
 
 
 
 
 . 205 
 
SYNOPSIS 
 
 The House of the Heart. Morality Play. Suit- 
 able for any season. 
 
 The Gooseherd and the Goblin. Comedy suit- 
 able for June exercises. 
 
 The Enchanted Garden. Flower Play. Suitable 
 for June exercises. 
 
 Nimble-Wit and Fingerkin. Industrial Play. 
 Suitable for any season. 
 
 A Little Pilgrim's Progress. Morality Play. 
 Suitable for Thanksgiving. 
 
 A Pageant of Hours. To be given Out of Doors. 
 Suitable for Summer. 
 
 On Christmas Eve. Suitable for Christmas time. 
 
 The Elf Child. Suitable for any season. 
 
 The Princess and the Pixies. Suitable for any 
 season. 
 
 The Christmas Guest. Miracle Play. Suitable 
 for Christmas. 
 
THE HOUSE OF THE HEART 
 A Morality Play 
 
CHARACTERS 
 
 Child 
 
 Wisdom 
 
 Love 
 
 Cheerfulness 
 
 Industry 
 
 Experience 
 
 Lady Gossip 
 
 Laziness 
 
 Vanity 
 
 Grumble 
 
 Dame Quarrelsome 
 
 Envy 
 
DRAMATIC DIRECTIONS 
 
 The scene is in the House of the Heart, and while 
 ampler directions for its setting follow, the schoolroom 
 setting of it may be arranged very simply indeed. 
 
 There should be three entrances, one at left, one at 
 right, and one in the background. These can easily be 
 arranged with screens draped with cheesecloth — a 
 draped interioT and background being the way of 
 setting the old Morality Plays, as all teachers familiar 
 with " Everyman " will remember. Trie draping in 
 this case should be of scarlet — the color. of a heart. If 
 scarlet cannot be had, white may be used.inster.c. If] 
 this case a large red heart should be fastened in the 
 draped background as a sign that it is the House of 
 the Heart. If the window called for in the directions 
 is not feasible, the entrance in background can be used 
 instead. Have Cheerfulness spring through it instead 
 of through the window. The furniture consists of a 
 bench, a table, and several chairs. Also a pile formed 
 of cushions, preferably crimson. 
 
 For the schoolroom costumes, worn over the every- 
 day clothes of those taking part, each child should be 
 provided with two yards and a half of either cheese- 
 cloth or cambric. For the girls' costumes, cut out a 
 square in the center of the cheesecloth and slip it over 
 
 3 
 
4 DRAMATIC DIRECTIONS 
 
 their heads. The long, straight pieces that will thus 
 hang back and front will be exactly the lines of costume 
 worn in the seventeenth century. The neck can be 
 ornamented with lace or gold embroidery. For the 
 boys, if hose and doublet cannot be had, cheesecloth 
 cut in the same fashion, only much shorter, coming 
 above the knee so as to form a kind of tunic. These 
 tunics should be belted in at the waist with loose 
 girdles of leather or cord. 
 
 The Child wears pale blue cheesecloth; Experience 
 a shepherd costume — tunic of gray cambric, skins 
 draped across the shoulders, a leather girdle, and shep- 
 herd's staff in hand. Vanity, prettily fTowered cotton 
 crepe, with blue girdle and a handsome mantle. Love, 
 white cambric with a border of silver paper cut out 
 and applied. Lady Gossip, dark green cambric. Dame 
 Quarreisome ) slate-colored cambric, with a mantle 
 much torn and rent. Envy, vivid green cambric. 
 Cheerfulness, red cambric ; strings of gilt bells. Indus- 
 try, deep bright blue cambric. 
 
 In connection with the play, the children taking part 
 in it should read or have read to them portions oA 
 " Pilgrim's Progress " and " Everyman." 
 
THE PROLOGUE 
 
 Spoken by Experience 
 
 Gentles, I bid you all give ear 
 Unto the play that follows here. 
 Within a Heart the scene is laid, 
 Both good and evil will be played. 
 Grumble and Gossip you shall see, 
 And likewise Love and Industry. 
 Wisdom appears upon the stage 
 With gentle counsels, true and sage, 
 While Vanity her time doth pass 
 By gazing on her looking glass — 
 Bedecked with gauds and jewels rare, 
 The gems she purchased at the Fair. 
 Dame Quarrelsome you shall behold, 
 And hear her loudly rage and scold; 
 Laziness, too, who yawns away 
 The hours of every precious day, 
 Avoiding Difficulty's Hill, 
 Taking Sloth's wages for his till. 
 While Cheerfulness with bells so sweet 
 Runs to and fro on nimble feet. 
 And, lastly, in a robe of green 
 Jealous-eyed Envy will be seen. 
 5 
 
THE PROLOGUE 
 
 The Child who owns this Heart doth learn 
 
 Which ones to love and which to spurn. 
 
 Full hard was this for her to do 
 
 As we will straightway show to you. 
 
 I am Experience. I dwell 
 
 In mountains called Delectable, 
 
 And come from those far heights to pray 
 
 A gracious hearing for our play. 
 
 So to the scene that doth commence 
 
 Beseech you give kind audience! 
 
THE HOUSE OF THE HEART 
 
 Scene: The House of the Heart. 
 Time: The latter half of the seventeenth century. 
 
 (1678-79) 
 
 A heart-shaped room. The footlights, if possible, set 
 in a curve to add to its semblance. Scene lit by red 
 light which softens and gradually fades after the rise 
 of the curtain. The walls are cream-color. The fur- 
 niture, notably a table and several chairs, is of the 
 style of the seventeenth century. (Heavy massive 
 furniture in " Mission " style will do.) There is a 
 carved bench against the wall in left background, and 
 a pile of dark red velvet cushions in the right fore- 
 ground. An arras by the right wall. Door in back- 
 ground, center, flanked by a window on either side. 
 
 At the rise of the curtain, Wisdom is seated, and 
 appears to be listening, as if waiting for some one. The 
 Child, without, knocks, and as Wisdom is slow to 
 answer, knocks again, and then opens the door. 
 
 Wisdom 
 (kindly). 
 Enter, my child. 
 
 7 
 
8 THE HOUSE OF THE HEART 
 
 Child 
 
 (zvonderingly). 
 Knew you that I would come? 
 
 Wisdom 
 (smiling). 
 Aye, for this house was meant to be your home. 
 
 Child. 
 
 (surprised). 
 My home? 
 
 Wisdom. 
 
 Yea, yours. Henceforward from to-day 
 You shall reign over it with endless sway! 
 
 Child 
 (interested). 
 Nay, but what house is this, I pray you tell? 
 
 Wisdom. 
 
 House of the Heart 'tis called. Oh, rule it well, 
 For on your ruling hangs your weal or woe. 
 
 Child 
 (drawing near to Wisdom). 
 Your name, sweet counselor, I fain would know. 
 
 Wisdom. 
 Wisdom, my child. 
 
THE HOUSE OF THE HEART 9 
 
 Child 
 (eagerly). 
 And have we met before? 
 
 Wisdom. 
 
 Nay, for you were too young to grasp my lore. 
 I waited till the hour when you should turn 
 Unto your Heart, its inmost ways to learn; 
 When you should look and question what was there, 
 And come to take possession, full and fair. 
 Therefore I bode, knowing that soon or late 
 That hour must strike, for little folk or great! 
 And now — 'tis here! 
 
 Child. 
 
 Then pray you, of your grace, 
 Read me the meaning of this strange, new place, 
 Where of a sudden I have found my way. 
 
 Wisdom. 
 
 See that you guard it wisely, day by day. 
 Greater than he who storms a city's wall 
 Is he who holdeth his own heart in thrall, 
 Ruling its guests, watching its portals well — 
 For the Heart, Child, is like a citadel 
 Beleagured oft by foes, within, v. ithout, 
 That your own watchfulness must put to rout. 
 Will you remember? 
 
io THE HOUSE OF THE HEART 
 
 Child. 
 Aye. 
 Wisdom. 
 
 To make or mar 
 This Heart is yours. Its guardian you are. 
 Look to it well! 
 
 Child. 
 Beseech you, of your wit, 
 Tell me how best to govern over it ! 
 
 Wisdom 
 
 (indicating). 
 
 See the door rusts not on its hinges. See 
 That on your hearthstone burns continually 
 The sacred fire of hospitality; 
 For there is naught so cold as a cold heart. 
 
 [Wisdom turns towards the door, as if to leave. 
 The Child follows with outstretched hands. 
 
 Child. 
 
 Oh, tarry here a space! Why should we part? 
 
 Wisdom. 
 
 So you shall learn to rule your Heart alone ! 
 
 Child 
 
 (wistfully). 
 
 Alack! What shall I do if you be gone? 
 I shall be desolate! 
 
THE HOUSE OF THE HEART H 
 
 Wisdom. 
 
 Nay, Industry 
 And Love and Cheer shall keep you company! 
 
 Child. 
 At that I do rejoice! 
 
 Wisdom. 
 
 You shall decide 
 Which guests shall leave your Heart, and which abide. 
 Beware, oh Child, what guests you entertain, 
 For those who enter here bring joy or pain. 
 If any knock who have no right to stay,- 
 Keep the door shut, and send them on their way. 
 Let no one in who is not kind and true. 
 
 Child 
 
 (gravely). 
 I will remember. 
 
 Wisdom 
 
 (going). 
 
 Now farewell to you, 
 And to t lis Heart which I leave to your keeping. 
 
 [Exit Wisdom through door in background. 
 The Child stands watching, as if looking 
 far up the road. Love and Cheerfulness 
 and Industry enter from behind the arras at 
 
12 THE HOUSE OF THE HEART 
 
 right. As the Child comes down center 
 they make a deep obeisance and say to- 
 gether. 
 
 Sweet Child, good morrow, and a kindly greeting! 
 
 Child 
 
 (delightedly). 
 Now by your bells you Cheerfulness must be! 
 
 Cheerfulness. 
 Ready to help you at your need, parde! 
 
 Child 
 (to Love). 
 And you are none but Love! 
 
 Love. 
 
 And I will give 
 True joyance to your Heart while here I live! 
 
 Child 
 (to Industry). 
 And you are Industry! 
 
 Industry. 
 
 'Tis my delight 
 To serve you faithfully, by day or night. 
 
THE HOUSE OF THE HEART 13 
 
 Cheerfulness. 
 
 While round your neck I pray you let there shine 
 Contentment's jewel. 
 
 [Fastens it on chain about her neck. 
 
 Child. 
 Grammercy, friend mine! 
 
 Cheerfulness. 
 
 A frown will dim its luster, or a tear, 
 
 But smile and laugh and it will aye be clear. 
 
 It will reflect the radiance of your face 
 
 As in the dew the sun's bright gleam we trace. 
 
 Child 
 
 (earnestly). 
 
 Long will I treasure it, and guard it well. 
 Right glad am I you are with me to dwell! 
 
 Love 
 (smiling). 
 No heart so base but I am sometime there! 
 
 Industry. 
 True fealty unto this your house I swear! 
 
 Cheerfulness. 
 
 Leal, too, am I. Have you not heard folk say 
 "A merry heart goes far into the day! " 
 
14 THE HOUSE OF THE HEART 
 
 Child. 
 Hark! Some one knocks! 
 
 Lady Gossip 
 (without). 
 
 I pray you, let me in! 
 
 Love 
 (gravely) . 
 Will you let all so quick an entrance win ? 
 
 Child 
 (pauses, then returns, pleadingly). 
 Sure, 'tis some guest I have not seen before! 
 
 Love 
 (warningly). 
 Remember Wisdom's counsel! Guard the door! 
 
 [The knocking continues. 
 
 Child 
 
 (drawing near door again). 
 Who is it waits? 
 
 Lady Gossip 
 (without). 
 I, Gossip, bringing news. 
 
THE HOUSE OF THE HEART 15 
 
 Child 
 
 (who has looked out window, and then gone eagerly 
 to unlatch door). 
 
 'Tis Lady Gossip! How can I refuse! 
 For she is very sweet, and very fair. 
 
 Love. 
 Is Gossip sweet? I warn you, Child, beware! 
 
 [The Child opens the door. Lady Gossip 
 enters, gives a keen glance at those present, 
 and seeing Love and Cheerfulness, tosses 
 her head and moves down center without 
 any exchange of greeting. Love, meantime, 
 goes toward the door. The Child, seeing 
 that Love is about to depart, leaves Lady 
 Gossip, and catches at Love's sleeve with a 
 detaining hand. 
 
 Child. 
 Oh, Love, you will not leave me? 
 
 Love. 
 
 Even so. 
 If Lady Gossip tarries here, I go; 
 For I may not keep fellowship with guile. 
 
 Child 
 (irresolute). 
 
 Nay, but how soft her speech, how bright her smile! 
 In sooth, her chatter casts a pleasing spell! 
 
16 THE HOUSE OF THE HEART 
 
 Lady Gossip 
 (catching at Child's hand). 
 Yea, let me stay! 
 
 [ The Child hesitates, and finally goes over to 
 Lady Gossip. 
 
 Love. 
 F faith then, fare-thee-well ! 
 [Exit Love. Cheerfulness also starts for the 
 door. 
 
 Child. 
 
 What! Cheerfulness, will you forsake me, too? 
 
 Cheerfulness. 
 
 If Gossip bides, we may not stay with you. 
 Though we will leave your heart, we will be near. 
 Call on our names and we will straightway hear. 
 
 [Exit Cheerfulness. Industry starts to follow. 
 
 Industry. 
 Now after them I too will likewise hie! 
 
 [Exit Industry. 
 Child. 
 
 Alack ! Bereft of service now am I ! 
 
 Lady Gossip 
 (reassuringly). 
 Others will come! 
 
THE HOUSE OF THE HEART n 
 
 Laziness 
 (popping his head in the door). 
 
 Do you a servant need? 
 
 Child 
 
 (turning). 
 
 Now, perad venture, here is help indeed! 
 
 Your name is 
 
 Laziness 
 
 (entering with a swagger). 
 
 Laziness! Sworn comrade I 
 To such as from all useful labor fly. 
 For Industry's as common as the wind; 
 But such a one as I you'll seldom find. 
 
 Lady Gossip 
 
 (nodding) 
 There he speaks truth! 
 
 Child 
 (to Laziness). 
 
 And have you served before? 
 
 Laziness. 
 
 Yea, Dame Deceit I served a year or more. 
 'Twas she who taught me many a pleasing grace. 
 With Mistress Folly, too, I bode a space, 
 
18 THE HOUSE OF THE HEART 
 
 In putting off a task from day to day 
 
 There's none can match me. Prithee bid me stay! 
 
 Child 
 
 (undecided). 
 Your raiment, Laziness, is torn and rent. 
 
 Laziness. 
 
 'Faith, that may be, since through the mire I went! 
 For as I journeyed, straight across my way 
 The darkling Hill of Difficulty lay. 
 To climb its rugged summit I was loth — 
 I chose an easier path — the Mire of Sloth. 
 (cajolingly) 
 
 'Twas but avoiding Difficulty's Hill 
 That made my tattered doublet look so ill! 
 
 [Before the Child can decide, Lady Gossip, who 
 has strolled to the window, announces 
 another guest. Laziness, taking advantage 
 of this, stays, throws himself on the cushions, 
 right foreground, and dozes. 
 
 Lady Gossip. 
 Another guest draws nigh! 'Tis Vanity, 
 Clothed like the rainbow, and as fair to see. 
 
 [Vanity enters* 
 Child 
 (delighted). 
 Sweet Vanity, will you not linger here? 
 
THE HOUSE OF THE HEART 19 
 
 Vanity 
 (advancing). 
 
 Aye, that will I right gladly. Be of cheer! 
 Good morrow, Lady Gossip! 
 
 Lady Gossip 
 (with a curtsey). 
 
 Greetings, friend! 
 Vanity. 
 (sweeping her robes about). 
 
 How like you all these colors — do they blend ? 
 What think you of my eyes, my lips, my hair? 
 My minor tells me I am wondrous fair ! 
 
 [Gazes into mirror which she wears on a chain 
 attached to her girdle. 
 
 What news, dear Gossip ? 
 
 Lady Gossip. 
 
 All the world's awry! 
 
 (knowingly) 
 
 Oh, I could tell you tales did I but try — 
 Of Envy, Grumble, Quarrelsome, and those 
 Whom we both know — 
 
 (whispers to Vanity) 
 
 Such news I could disclose! 
 Have you no rumor keen — my ears to fill? 
 No secret I can turn to others' ill ? 
 
20 THE HOUSE OF THE HEART 
 
 Vanity. 
 
 Nay, none! Of learning news I make no boast. 
 It is my mirror that enchants me most! 
 
 [Holds out her many neck-chains with their 
 brilliant pendants, looking at them lovingly, 
 one by one, while Lady Gossip and the 
 Child stand by, admiringly. 
 
 These gauds and trinkets that I greatly prize 
 Were much esteemed by Master Worldly Wise; 
 While that old wrinkled beldame, Mistress Greed, 
 Would fain have bought from me each chain and bead. 
 
 Child 
 (her interest more and more aroused). 
 Where did you hap to- meet with such as she ? 
 
 Vanity 
 
 (pacing slowly to and fro, glancing now at her robes, 
 now at her mirror). 
 
 Why, at the Fair — the Fair of Vanity. 
 'Tis a brave place, with all that doth most please — 
 Where you can purchase baubles such as these, 
 And plumes and jewels and the bright attire 
 That Money-Love and Feeble-Mind admire! 
 
 [Vanity goes towards the background, con- 
 tinuing to gaze at her own splendid raiment. 
 Lady Gossip and the Child remain in fore- 
 ground, watching her. 
 
THE HOUSE OF THE HEART 21 
 
 Child. 
 
 How soft her robes sweep round her, fold on fold, 
 And see her necklace 
 
 Lady Gossip. 
 (nodding). 
 Of the purest gold! 
 
 Child 
 
 (with a trace of envy in her tone). 
 Her jeweled bracelets 
 
 Lady Gossip. 
 
 How they gleam and shine! 
 
 Child 
 
 (coveting). 
 
 I would that I might own one half as fine — 
 For she has all there is, and I have nought : 
 My robe is not so curiously wrought, 
 I have no kirtle of embroidery blue, 
 Nor mantle made of such a splendid hue — 
 
 Lady Gossip 
 (deliberately adding to the ferment). 
 
 Even your jewel that was once so bright 
 Begins to fade, and lose its lustrous light. 
 
 [A step in the doorway without. Vanity turns. 
 
22 THE HOUSE OF THE HEART 
 
 Vanity. 
 Who comes? 
 
 Lady Gossip. 
 'Tis Grumble entering the door. 
 
 Grumble 
 
 (entering, bent and crabbed). 
 
 I have trudged such a way my back is sore, 
 And every bone in it seems like to break! 
 
 Child 
 
 (calling as she assists Grumble). 
 A footstool, Laziness! Awake! Awake! 
 
 [Laziness continues to doze, in spite of her 
 efforts to rouse him. Business of getting 
 up, rubbing his eyes, and dropping to sleep 
 again. The Child finally fetches the foot- 
 stool herself. Gossip and Vanity are dis- 
 cussing each other s clothes in dumb-show. 
 The Child has meantime assisted Grumble 
 to a chair. 
 
 Grumble. 
 Nay, this chair likes me not. 'Tis hard and plain. 
 
 [He goes to another chair on the right. 
 This one's too soft! 
 
THE HOUSE OF THE HEART 23 
 
 Child. 
 I prithee, try again! 
 
 Grumble. 
 
 (going to another chair). 
 
 Slough of Despond, whereby I rest and live, 
 Has far more comfort than your house can give! 
 
 Vanity. 
 Nay, 'tis a mirey spot, full dark and drear! 
 
 Grumble 
 
 (peevishly). 
 Peace, Vanity! Your voice offends my ear! 
 
 [He goes back to the chair he first occupied, 
 and after a moment trembles violently. 
 I shiver here. With draughts this house is cursed ! 
 
 [He goes to another seat. 
 My throat is parched. I am consumed with thirst! 
 
 Child. 
 
 A flagon, Laziness! Bestir your heels! 
 
 [Laziness does not move, and it is the Child a 
 second time who attends to Grumble's 
 wants, bringing him a flagon and a cup. 
 As she kneels by him, pouring it out, he un- 
 clasps the Jewel of Contentment from her 
 neck. 
 
24 THE HOUSE OF THE HEART 
 
 Grumble. 
 
 The choicest jewel falls to him who steals. 
 
 [He chuckles evily, and after holding it up a 
 moment slips it into a leather pouch that he 
 wears at his girdle. The Child, all un- 
 conscious of what has passed, gives him the 
 cup. He drinks. 
 
 Child. 
 
 Satisfied, sir? 
 
 Grumble 
 
 (shaking his head). 
 
 Nay! 
 
 (leers up at her) 
 
 But you are, I trow? 
 
 Child 
 
 (looking straight before her). 
 
 An hour ago I was full blithe, but now 
 
 I know not how it is — I fain would cry! 
 
 Good my friend Grumble, can you tell me why? 
 
 Grumble 
 
 (giving back the cup). 
 
 I tell you? Nay! I cannot tell you. Lo, 
 How should I wot the cause of all your woe? 
 
THE HOUSE OF THE HEART 25 
 
 Dame Quarrelsome 
 
 (shrilly, without). 
 
 What ho, within! 
 
 [Pounds on door. 
 Child 
 
 (greatly distressed). 
 
 Have others hither come? 
 
 Lady Gossip 
 (looking out the window). 
 Now, by my faith, it is Dame Quarrelsome! 
 
 Laziness 
 
 (awakening, with a show of interest). 
 Dame Quarrelsome! 
 
 Lady Gossip. 
 
 Yea, you shall hear full soon 
 Her shrill-voiced clamor, morning, night, and noon! 
 
 Dame Quarrelsome 
 
 (entering, shaking her fist). 
 
 Have done, you Gossip! I'll not hear a word! 
 I thought 'twas your malicious tongue I heard ! 
 You wry-faced harpy 
 
 [They quarrel in dumb show at the left. Lazi- 
 ness, who has crossed to them, stands, hands 
 on knees, regarding them delightedly, turn- 
 
26 THE HOUSE OF THE HEART 
 
 ing first to one and then to the other, 
 Grumble crosses to a chair at right. 
 
 Lady Gossip 
 (looking out the window). 
 
 And I do perceive 
 My dear friend Envy! 
 
 Envy 
 (entering door boldly). 
 
 Well met, by your leave! 
 
 [To Child. 
 Coveting County is my rightful home! 
 
 Vanity 
 
 (sneering). 
 
 Pity it is that you were fain to roam! 
 
 [Vanity goes toward background. 
 
 Envy 
 
 (looking after Vanity vengefully). 
 
 Nay, now I ask, what right has she to wear 
 
 A smock so splendid and a kirtle rare? 
 
 Faith would I rend them if my hands could reach 
 
 Dame Quarrelsome • 
 (at other side of room, striking Laziness). 
 Mayhap a buffet on the ear shall teach 
 You manners, Master Laziness, anon! 
 
THE HOUSE OF THE HEART 27 
 
 Child 
 (center, suddenly discovering the loss of her jewel). 
 Alack! My jewel of Contentment's gone! 
 'Tis stolen! 
 
 Envy. 
 
 Now this passes all belief! 
 
 Dame Quarrelsome 
 (angrily breaking from her group). 
 Which of us all will you dare name as thief? 
 
 Grumble 
 (edging near to Dame Quarrelsome). 
 Aye, which? 
 
 [A moment's silence during which all the vices 
 stand in defiant attitudes. 
 
 Child 
 
 (turning from them with gesture of despair). 
 
 I know not ! I am sore beset ! 
 Alas! Alas! How soon I did forget 
 Wisdom's true counseling to guard the door! 
 Would I had harkened me to Wisdom's lore! 
 Mayhap I am too late 
 
 (with clasped hands). 
 
 Oh, Industry, 
 And Love and Cheer, I pray you come to me, 
 
28 THE HOUSE OF THE HEART 
 
 And dwell with me, and never more depart, 
 And be the guests of this, my troubled Heart! 
 
 Cheerfulness 
 (without). 
 Call but upon our names, and we will hear! 
 
 Lady Gossip 
 (disturbed). 
 Whose voice is that? 
 
 Grumble 
 (trembling). 
 Whose bells ring soft and clear? 
 
 Cheerfulness 
 (springing in window at right). 
 Out, Lady Gossip! Grumble, out I say! 
 
 Lady Gossip 
 (hurrying out). 
 In sooth, I will leave quickly! 
 
 [Grumble starts to follow. 
 
 Cheerfulness 
 (facing him). 
 
 Grumble, stay! 
 
 [Grumble cowers. 
 
THE HOUSE OF THE HEART 29 
 
 Return what you have stolen ! 
 
 [Grumble gives up jewel. 
 Now begone! 
 
 [Exit Grumble. 
 Envy 
 
 (frightened). 
 And as for me, I, too, will hasten on! 
 
 Laziness. 
 
 Industry comes! Before he with me deals 
 I will at once betake me to my heels! 
 
 [Laziness goes out the door, and hove and 
 Industry enter it. 
 
 Dame Quarrelsome 
 (in a panic, to Vanity). 
 
 Fetch me my mantle, for full well I know 
 That now that Love has entered, I must go! 
 
 [Exit Dame Quarrelsome 
 
 Vanity 
 
 (approaching Child beguilingly). 
 
 Nay, let me tarry here, I do entreat, 
 
 You know full well I am both fair and sweet 1 
 
 Love. 
 Yea, with a deadly sweetness. 
 
30 THE HOUSE OF THE HEART 
 
 
 Vanity 
 
 
 (to Child, with a beseeching gesture). 
 
 
 Of your grace 
 I pray that I may linger here a space. 
 
 
 Love 
 
 
 (to the Child). 
 
 
 Choose you between us. 
 
 
 Child 
 
 (with a gesture of dismissal). 
 Vanity, depart! 
 
 Vanity 
 
 (with an angry toss of the head). 
 Good riddance, then, to you, and to your Heart! 
 
 [Exit Vanity. 
 
 Child. 
 
 Sweet guests, that spite of former word and deed 
 
 Still came to help me in my utmost need, 
 
 Oh, I have wisely learned to guard the door 
 
 So no dread foes may ever enter more! 
 
 That in my Heart eternally may be 
 
 Love, Wisdom, Cheerfulness, and Industry! 
 
 Curtain 
 
EPILOGUE 
 
 Spoken by Experience 
 
 Gentles, ye see the play is done, 
 The lights are out, the actors gone; 
 But in each child there is a Heart 
 Where good and evil play their part. 
 Ye have learned our lessoning 
 What rancor Quarrelsome doth bring. 
 Grumble and Gossip you shall spurn, 
 From Laziness and Envy turn. 
 But Love and Cheerfulness invite 
 To be your guests and bring delight. 
 Thus shall your Heart well guarded be! 
 Here endeth our Morality. 
 
 3i 
 
COSTUMES 
 
 Dresses for the girls should be gathered from a 
 Dutch neck, and fall in soft straight folds to the floor, 
 belted in by a silken cord or chain girdle. Angel 
 sleeves. Quaint caps bordered with lace or gold. 
 Headgear shaped like a coronet may also be worn. 
 See any good book of seventeenth century costumes. 
 
 For the boys, trim-fitting doublets and hose to the 
 knee. Angel sleeves or puffed sleeves. Girdles of 
 silken cords or chains. 
 
 INDIVIDUAL COSTUMES 
 
 Child: Dress of pale blue, with silver girdle. 
 Experience: Tunic of pale gray cambric. Leather 
 
 girdle and pouch. Skins fastened across shoulders. 
 
 Leather sandals, fastened with leather strappings. 
 Wisdom: Purple robe, edged with ermine at sleeves 
 
 and neck. Dull gold girdle. 
 Love: White silken robe. Wreath of roses on hair. 
 
 Golden girdle. 
 Lady Gossip: Very dark green dress. Angel sleeves 
 
 lined with pale pink. Peaked cap of pink and 
 
 green. 
 Vanity: Handsome dress of rich brocade in colors of 
 32 
 
COSTUMES 33 
 
 dull blue and saffron. Rich blue mantle trimmed 
 with gold. Golden head-dress from which floats 
 a veil of cloudy white. Where her angel sleeves 
 fall back from the arm are seen many bracelets. 
 Her fingers sparkle with rings. There are a 
 number of chains about her neck. She also wears 
 a blue girdle, to which a hand mirror is attached 
 by a long chain of ribbon. 
 
 Dame Quarrelsome: Slate-colored dress. Angel 
 sleeves lined in orange. Black cloak in rents and 
 tatters. Black velvet cap edged with lace, and 
 set on her head much awry. 
 
 Envy: Vivid green dress, the neck and sleeves of 
 which are edged with gold embroidery. 
 
 Cheerfulness: Crimson suit, hose, and cap, with a 
 crimson quill stuck jauntily in the side. Gold 
 cord at waist. Bells with a sweet, clear tone, are 
 concealed under his doublet. They ring as he 
 moves. 
 
 Industry: Hose and doublet of deep bright blue. 
 Angel sleeves lined in old rose. Old rose cord 
 at girdle. 
 
 Grumble: Black suit and cap. The latter goes 
 down at each side like ear muffs. His body is 
 bent and young; but his face is old and made up 
 with wrinkles. His mouth sags complainingly. 
 
 Laziness: Brown suit, much out at elbows. Brown 
 cap with bedraggled black quill. Brown cord at 
 waist. 
 Each of the dramatis persona should act in char- 
 
34 COSTUMES 
 
 acter. Vanity should be always looking in her mir- 
 ror, or toying with her dress and headgear. Cheer- 
 fulness should continually skip about, blithely and 
 lightly. Industry carries a mop broom, and should 
 be continually busy. Wisdom should be stately. 
 Laziness ever yawning and lounging, etc., etc. 
 
THE GOOSEHERD AND THE 
 GOBLIN 
 
 A Play in One Act 
 
Rain bow- Wing j 
 Trip, a goblin 
 
 CAST 
 
 Conrad, the Gooseherd 
 Dame Alice, Conrad's mother 
 Peterkin, a goblin 
 Dawn-Delight 
 Silverdew dries 
 
 V Attendant on Peterkin 
 Nip, a goblin f 
 
DRAMATIC DIRECTIONS 
 
 The play is one for early Spring or Fall. It is 
 designed to bring into the schoolroom a breath of the 
 great out-doors. The scene is supposed to take place 
 in the Black Forest. Let green tree branches be 
 drawn on the blackboard to represent tossing boughs. 
 Or, if the season be either Fall or Spring, have green 
 branches fastened up, and a few leaves scattered on 
 the floor. Even leaves of green paper wired to bare 
 branches have their value, and take from the deadly 
 atmosphere of the commonplace which clogs so many 
 schoolroom productions. A three-legged stool, cov- 
 ered with a round of white cardboard about a foot 
 and a half across makes the pinky-brown toadstool. 
 The pink and brown edges are painted on the white 
 cambric that covers the cardboard toadstool-wise. 
 See that it is all firmly fastened together and in no 
 danger of slipping. 
 
 The everyday clothes of the children will only need 
 a few touches to convert them into peasant costumes. 
 Conrad should wear a soft dark cap with a long 
 goose feather. Dame Alice, short white apron to 
 which is fastened a colored border and pocket. She 
 also wears a white cap of either tissue paper or muslin. 
 Dawn-Delight, a white summer dress if possible. 
 37 
 
38 DRAMATIC DIRECTIONS 
 
 Pink paper crown and wand. Silverdew, white or 
 light-colored dress, silver crown and wand. Rainbow- 
 Wing, rainbow-colored wand and crown. All three 
 fairies wear cardboard wings fastened to their shoul- 
 ders. Those of Dawn-Delight are pale pink; those 
 of Silverdew are white with silver dashes; those of 
 Rainbow-Wing suit her name. Peterkin, Nip, and 
 Trip wear peaked caps of gray tissue paper. 
 
 Conrad's " King's Robe " is, of course, some older 
 person's cloak or cape, to which is basted ermine trim- 
 ming made of white cotton batting with black tails. 
 When he is the miser, he wears this same cloak turned 
 inside out. 
 
 The play is also suited for out-doors, and directions 
 /or such a production follow. The teacher should 
 read the children these directions, as doing so will 
 help them visualize what they are trying to portray. 
 
 For the schoolroom production the following pro- 
 logue should be spoken by one of the children not 
 taking part in the play. 
 
PROLOGUE 
 
 Friends, we present a simple scene 
 Enacted in a forest green. 
 And though you see no forest here, 
 And though no birds sing sweet and clear, 
 Let but your fancy hold its sway, 
 And we will take you far away 
 From house and town and busy mart 
 Deep, deep into a forest's heart. 
 Think you that at my feet is seen 
 A tapestry of grasses green, 
 And that on either hand there grow 
 Tall trees, their branches bending low; 
 That backward stretches the great wood — 
 A lovely, fragrant solitude 
 Where nimble elves and fairies dance, 
 Hid far from any mortal glance. 
 Think that on this side you behold 
 The hut that shelters from the cold 
 Dame Alice and her only child, 
 Who live within this woodland wild. 
 Think that you catch the smell of flowers, 
 Of grass new-drenched with silver showers, 
 And that you hear the soft winds stir 
 Through oak and pine and pointed fir, 
 39 
 
THE PROLOGUE 
 
 And that o'er all, serene and high, 
 Stretches the blue arch of the sky. 
 Think but of this and you shall see 
 A little Gooseherd's Comedy. 
 
THE GOOSEHERD AND THE 
 GOBLIN 
 
 The play is designed to be given out of doors, 
 though an indoor production is perfectly possible. 
 The following directions are, however, for its out- 
 door production. 
 
 The scene is a bit of woodland sward, with grass, 
 trees, bushes in abundance. 
 
 At the right a tiny hut built of branches. Behind 
 it stretches the wood. By it a pile of branches and 
 fagots that have the appearance of being lately 
 gathered. 
 
 At the left another edge of the ivood. A wooded 
 distance in the background. 
 
 The center of the stage is a clear, grassy place, free 
 from either weeds or bushes. The play begins by 
 Conrad's mother, an oldish peasant woman, coming 
 out of the woods, left, with a bundle of fagots on her 
 back, and Conrad following her and taking the fagots 
 from her. 
 
 Conrad. 
 
 Let me carry the fagots, mother. I am stronger 
 than you. 
 
 41 
 
42 THE GOOSEHERD AND THE GOBLIN 
 
 Dame Alice 
 
 (turning). 
 
 I thought it was 3'our step I heard behind me, Con- 
 rad. Take the fagots if you will. The day has many 
 hours, and I am weary. (Sits on piled fagots.) 
 Where have you been since morn? 
 
 Conrad 
 
 (disco n tentedly) . 
 
 Ever with the geese, mother. Ever and always 
 with the geese ! They are splashing yonder now in the 
 pond. At sunrise I took them to the top of the hill 
 where I could see the towers of King Hildebrande's 
 castle shining in the sun, and later I led them to the 
 valley where I could spy the hut of Mertram the 
 Miser, half hidden by the trees. Is it true, mother, 
 that old Miser Mertram has more gold than the King 
 himself? (Seats himself on grass by Dame Alice.) 
 
 Dame Alice. 
 
 So folks say, Conrad. 'Tis hidden safely away 
 somewhere in this forest. 
 
 Conrad. 
 
 I wish I were Miser Mertram. You'd never 
 gather fagots again, mother, and you'd live on sweet- 
 meats and curds instead of acorns and black bread. 
 And as for me — this would be the last day I'd ever 
 tend the geese. (He rises.) 
 
THE GOOSEHERD AND THE GOBLIN 43 
 
 Dame Alice. 
 
 If wishes came true, Conrad, this world would be 
 a topsy-turvy place. But since 'tis working and not 
 wishing that makes the world go round, 'twere well I 
 were on my way for more fagots, lest twilight over- 
 take me in the wood. (Rises.) Look to it, Conrad, 
 that you tend the geese while I am gone, and fall not 
 to complaining and dreaming as is your wont. Com- 
 plaint never yet healed poverty, and (tenderly) day- 
 dreaming is not best for little Gooseherds! (She 
 exits into wood at left.) 
 
 Conrad 
 
 (flinging himself on grass, center). 
 
 Aye, but what if the dream came true? What if I 
 should wake some morning and find myself indeed the 
 Miser Mertram, with all his gold in my pockets. 
 'Tis said that the goblins and fairies have power to 
 grant any wish that mortals make! (Dreamily.) I 
 would it pleased them to grant me mine. Oh, if a 
 goblin would only come I'd say: "Good goblin, I am 
 tired of being Conrad the Gooseherd ! Make me some 
 one else." (Closes his eyes for a moment, as if to 
 picture such bliss.) 
 
 [During the last sentence Peterkin has entered 
 from the wood, at right, and has crept up 
 behind Conrad with a huge toadstool, upon 
 which he perches elfishly, using it for a seat. 
 
44 THE GOOSEHERD AND THE GOBLIN 
 
 Peterkin. 
 
 A foolish wish, Conrad, more worthy of your geese 
 than of you. 
 
 Conrad 
 
 (amazed, sitting up and staring, and then rubbing 
 his eyes). 
 
 Are you indeed a goblin? 
 
 Peterkin 
 (indignantly). 
 
 Do I look like a mortal? Come, blow the goose 
 
 feathers from your brain and stop staring. Although 
 
 you've never seen us, you must have heard of us be- 
 fore now, fairies and goblins both. 
 
 Conrad 
 
 (half -dream ily) . 
 
 Heard you? I've sometimes thought I did! Some- 
 times . . . when the moon comes up, round and 
 golden, over the edge of the dark forest, the air seems 
 full of fairy voices. And on Winter nights, when I'm 
 half asleep, the wind makes goblin music in the trees. 
 
 Peterkin 
 (nodding). 
 You've listened better than I thought. 
 
THE GOOSEHERD AND THE GOBLIN 45 
 Conrad. 
 But I did not know that fairyland was so near. 
 
 Peterkin. 
 It's always near to them that seek for it, Conrad. 
 
 Conrad. 
 And will you truly grant my wish ? 
 
 Peterkin 
 
 (getting off toadstool). 
 
 I will do more than that! I will give you three 
 wishes and I will grant them all, as sure as my name 
 is Peterkin! 
 
 Conrad 
 
 (dazzled). 
 
 Three wishes! That is indeed generous! And 
 shall I see the fairy- folk? 
 
 Peterkin 
 
 (naming each one of the fairies, as they advance from 
 the wood in right background). 
 
 Aye, that you shall. See, they are coming hither! 
 Dawn-Delight 
 
 Dawn-Delight 
 
 (with a pretty, half-mocking obeisance). 
 
 From the gates of the morning! (Conrad snatches 
 off his cap and bows low.) 
 
46 THE GOOSEHERD AND THE GOBLIN 
 
 Peterkin. 
 Silverdew 
 
 SlLVERDEW 
 
 (same). 
 From gossamer palace! 
 
 Peterkin. 
 Rainbow-Wing 
 
 Rainbow-Wing 
 (same). 
 From the mists of the air! 
 
 Peterkin 
 
 (as Nip and Trip approach, also from wood, right 
 background). 
 
 And Nip and Trip, goblins whose law is my word. 
 
 Nip and Trip 
 (speaking together, with a low obeisance). 
 Mortal, what is your will? 
 
 Conrad. 
 
 I wish to be Mertram the Miser, for he has more 
 gold than any one else in the world. 
 
 [As Conrad speaks he stands facing the audi- 
 ence, with his back to the fairy footstool on 
 
THE GOOSEHERD AND THE GOBLIN 47 
 
 which Peterkin has mounted. Peterkin 
 instantly drops across Conrad's shoulders a 
 long tattered cloak, and on his head pops 
 a wig of gray, bushy hair. These things 
 have previously been brought from the 
 wood at right, by Nip and Trip. Silver- 
 dew waves her wand three times. All this 
 should be done with the utmost grace and 
 swiftness. The moment the tattered miser's 
 cloak falls across Conrad's shoulders he 
 bends double with a rheumatic groan. 
 
 Peterkin. 
 
 Your wish is granted, Conrad. (They dance round 
 Conrad in a swirling circle, with joined hands.) 
 
 Conrad 
 (in the voice of querulous age). 
 Have done with your dancing! (They pause, with 
 mock deference.) I can scarcely walk. A staff, some 
 one! (Dawn-Delight gives him a gnarled one.) 
 Nay, I cannot move! I must sit me down. Alack! 
 Every bone in my body has a pain in it, and every pain 
 a tongue. 
 
 Dawn-Delight. 
 
 Nay, look how bright the sun is! 
 
 Conrad 
 (stretching out his hand). 
 It cannot warm my withered flesh. 
 
48 THE GOOSEHERD AND THE GOBLIN 
 Rainbow-Wing 
 (looking upward). 
 And how bright the sky! 
 
 Conrad 
 
 (trying to look up, and then failing, with the effect 
 of twisting his neck). 
 
 What is that to me, who am so bent I cannot see it ? 
 
 Peterkin. 
 
 And your work — there are no more geese to tend. 
 All your days are free to spend as you will. 
 
 Conrad. 
 Aye, free to spend in groaning! 
 
 Dawn-Delight. 
 
 Acorns and black bread you will never taste again. 
 The finest fruits and sweets are yours for the asking. 
 
 Conrad. 
 
 Little good that will do me when I have not a 
 tooth in my head! 
 
 [He starts to cross the greensward, leaning on 
 his staff, and groaning heavily. 
 
 Peterkin. 
 Think, Conrad, of all the gold you possess! 
 
THE GOOSEHERD AND THE GOBLIN 49 
 
 Conrad. 
 
 What is that compared to all the aches I possess, 
 good Peterkin? Nay, I see now that with Miser 
 Mertram's gold go also Miser Mertram's age and 
 pain! For every piece of money in my wallet there 
 is a twinge in my back. Pray you, give me my second 
 wish, good Peterkin, and you will see how wisely I 
 shall choose a second time. 
 
 Peterkin. 
 
 What would you now, Conrad? 
 
 Conrad 
 
 (standing in front of toadstool, and facing audience 
 as before). 
 
 I would be young King Hildebrande who is the 
 same age as myself, and who has gold and happiness 
 and power besides. 
 
 [Peterkin whisks off Conrad's miser s wig and 
 cloak, and drops in their place a purple 
 robe and a gold crown, with a dark curly 
 wig beneath it. Nip and Trip carry off 
 Miser s costume to wood. With the falling 
 of the King's robe on his shoulders, Conrad 
 gives himself most princely airs. 
 
 Conrad. 
 
 Was there ever so grand a robe? Or so glittering 
 a crown? My very geese would not know me! I 
 will look at my reflection in the pond. (Turns.) 
 
50 THE GOOSEHERD AND THE GOBLIN 
 
 Dawn-Delight 
 
 (stopping him). 
 
 Nay, gently, Conrad! Kings do not use a common 
 goose-pond for a mirror. 
 
 Conrad. 
 
 Then I will run to Nathan, the woodcutter's, that 
 all may see me, Nathan and Gretchen, and the rest. 
 (Picks up his trailing robe, preparing to run with it.) 
 
 Rainbow-Wing. 
 
 Kings do not run, Conrad. Neither do they mingle 
 with woodcutter's folk and call them by their names. 
 
 Conrad 
 
 (sulkily). 
 
 'Faith, 'tis a wearisome thing to be a King, if I 
 cannot do as I please! (Wearily.) And my crown 
 is passing heavy! 
 
 Peterkin. 
 
 Crowns never yet were light to wear, your Majesty. 
 
 Conrad. 
 
 Is there nought I can do for pleasure? Have I 
 no subjects to cheer me and cry: " Long live the 
 King! "? Are there no folk within this wood to give 
 me greeting? 
 
THE GOOSEHERD AND THE GOBLIN 51 
 
 SlLVERDEW 
 
 There are the peasants, your Majesty. Yonder 
 comes one now — a woman carrying fagots. 
 
 [Dame Alice enters from the wood, left. 
 
 Conrad 
 
 (turning). 
 
 Woman! Why, 'tis my mother! (Goes to meet 
 her, Nip and Trip holding up his trailing robe as if 
 they were his pages.) 
 
 Dame Alice 
 
 (dropping her fagots in amazement). 
 
 Just Heaven! It is his gracious Majesty! (She 
 makes a deep and humble curtsey.) 
 
 Conrad 
 (delighted). 
 Look up and see! Do you not know me, mother? 
 
 Dame Alice 
 (looking up and then bowing still lower). 
 
 I would know my liege sovereign, King Hilde- 
 brande, anywhere. 
 
 Conrad. 
 
 But 'tis Conrad, not Hildebrande, that stands be- 
 fore you. 
 
52 THE GOOSEHERD AND THE GOBLIN 
 Dame Alice 
 (aside). 
 Alas ! I see the poor young King hath lost his wits. 
 
 Conrad 
 (earnestly). 
 But mother, I am your son. 
 
 Dame Alice. 
 
 Nay, your good Majesty, you were never son of 
 mine, as these people of your court will tell you; so 
 drive these shadows from your mind I do beseech you. 
 My son is but a simple little gooseherd, and tends the 
 geese at the wood pond yonder. Indeed, indeed your 
 Majesty is no son of mine. I am only a peasant 
 woman and unused to the ways of court. 
 
 Conrad. 
 Who is my mother if you be not she? 
 
 Dame Alice. 
 
 All the world knows that Queen Clotilde is your 
 Majesty's mother, oh sire. 
 
 Conrad 
 
 (clutching at her with a cry of sudden terror). 
 
 Nay, look at me! Look close! Look close and 
 see if I be not your Conrad! (She looks a long 
 
THE GOOSEHERD AND THE GOBLIN 53 
 
 moment, and then sorrowfully shakes her head, as if in 
 pity for his crazed wits. Conrad steps back, mute and 
 dismayed.) 
 
 Dame Alice. 
 
 Have I your Majesty's permission to depart? There 
 are still many fagots to be gathered and nightfall 
 comes quickly. (Conrad makes a royal gesture of as- 
 sent, and Dame Alice, after bowing, goes slowly back 
 into wood, left, Conrad gazing after her.) 
 
 Dawn-Delight 
 
 (approaching him). 
 
 Whither now, King Hildebrande? 'Twill soon bt 
 Jusk, and the queen, your mother, waits you. 
 
 Conrad. 
 
 Nay, I have no mother but one, although she doe* 
 not know me. 
 
 SlLVERDEW. 
 
 There is a luscious feast spread for you at the 
 castle, Conrad. 
 
 Conrad. 
 'Tis not so sweet as my mother's kiss. 
 
 Rainbow-Wing. 
 
 There's music there, Conrad, as soft as the music in 
 dreams. 
 
54 THE GOOSEHERD AND THE GOBLIN 
 Conrad 
 (passionately). 
 'Twill not sound half so tender as my mother's voice. 
 
 Peterkin. 
 
 There will be jeweled lamps shining to light you 
 to bed, Conrad. 
 
 Conrad 
 
 (still more passionately). 
 
 I'd rather have the loveshine of my mother's eyes. 
 What are feasts and music and jeweled lamps to me? 
 (Despairingly.) I want my mother, and I only wish to 
 be Conrad the Gooseherd, Conrad the Gooseherd, Con- 
 rad the Gooseherd! (Flings himself sobbing on the 
 ground. His cloak, which has become unfastened, is 
 swiftly- removed by Nip and Trip. His crown and 
 scepter are likewise taken. His closed eyes and deep 
 breathing show that he has sobbed himself to sleep.) 
 
 SlLVERDEW 
 
 (bending over him with passes of her wand). 
 
 Sleep! And let these wishes seem 
 Like the semblance of a dream 
 Lightly dreamed and lightly sped, 
 Leaving with you in its stead 
 Sweet Content, your days to fill. 
 Sleep! It is the fairies will! 
 
THE GOOSEHERD AND THE GOBLIN 55 
 
 [Fairies and Goblins vanish into wood, back- 
 ground. Enter Dame Alice from left; she 
 bends over the sleeping Conrad. 
 
 Dame Alice 
 (rousing him). 
 Why, Conrad ! Asleep so early ? 
 
 Conrad 
 
 (opening his eyes and then flinging an arm about her). 
 
 Mother! You know me now? Now that I'm not 
 the King? 
 
 Dame Alice 
 
 (rising). 
 
 The King! Good lack! The child's still dream- 
 ing! 
 
 Conrad 
 
 (rising, rubbing his eyes and looking about). 
 
 And they're gone, too, the fairies and the goblins. 
 And I'm here with you and not at the castle! And 
 ny> three wishes have vanished like smoke! (Dame 
 Alice goes to hut at right.) It must have been a 
 dream. And yet . . . and yet ... ! To be my- 
 self and none other; to make the most of what I have 
 and never sigh for what I have not — that is fairy wis- 
 dom. And right glad am I that I am neither Miser 
 
56 THE GOOSEHERD AND THE GOBLIN 
 
 Mertram with his creaking joints, nor King Hilde- 
 brande with his queen mother but only Conrad the 
 Gooseherd. And now I think 'tis time I fetched the 
 geese! (Exits, running blithely, left.) 
 
 CWTAltf 
 
COSTUMES 
 
 Conrad: Buff coat and hose. Leather belt at waist 
 with leather jerkin fastened to it. Round, soft 
 cap of felt pushed far back on his head. In it is 
 stuck jauntily a long, white goose feather. 
 
 Dame Alice: Dark maroon skirt. Black bodice laced 
 over white chemizette. White apron, clean, but a 
 little worn and tattered, it has a border of maroon. 
 A white Normandy peasant cap. 
 
 Peterkix is swathed from head to heel in tight fitting 
 goblin suit of mouse color. Peaked cap of same, 
 very tall. 
 
 Dawn-Delight: Gauzy pale pink robe. Wings deep- 
 ening from pale pink at the shoulder to deep pink 
 at the outer edges. 
 
 Silverdew: White gauzy robe spangled with silver. 
 Silver spangled wings. 
 
 Rainbow-Wing: Gauzy robe of palest forget-me-not 
 blue. Rainbow-colored wings, very delicately 
 tinted. 
 
 Nip and Trip: Suits exactly like that of Peterkin, 
 only in brown. 
 The mushroom which Peterkin carries should be 
 
 made stoutly of wood, and then be covered with white 
 
 cambric, tinted around the edges with mushroom color 
 
 — the peculiar pinky brown. The sides may slope a 
 
 little, but the top must be level. 
 57 
 
THE ENCHANTED GARDEN 
 
CAST 
 
 Wild Rose 
 
 
 Prince Butterfly 
 
 
 Bumble Bee 
 
 
 Peas Blossom 
 
 
 Lily 
 
 
 Mignonette 
 
 
 Poppy 
 
 
 Iris 
 
 
 WlLL-O'-TH E-WlSP 
 
 
 The Queen of Hearts 
 
 Other Peasblossoms, 
 
 Poppies, etc. 
 
DRAMATIC DIRECTIONS 
 
 This is a June play. The schoolroom should he 
 hung with green leaves or real or artificial flowers. A 
 green floor covering, if possible. In the center of the 
 stage there should be a seat or throne covered with 
 moss-green cambric. While the prologue is being 
 spoken the flowers stand in group in background. The 
 blinds of the schoolroom are pulled down to give an 
 effect of darkness. With the end of Will-o'-the- 
 Wisp's speech the blinds are raised to show that the 
 night is over and it is morning in the garden. The 
 children should wear their summer dresses, and over 
 them large petals of tissue paper or glazed cambric. 
 Hats shaped like the petals or bells of flowers. White 
 dress with red hearts on it for the Queen; pink hat 
 and dress for Wild Rose; stripes of yellow tissue 
 paper basted to the boy's suit of the bee; large tinted 
 cardboard wings for the butterfly, etc., etc. The pro- 
 logue is spoken by Pansy, whose dress should be yellow 
 and purple cambric, or tissue paper leaves, like an over- 
 skirt. In connection with the play read the children 
 all kinds of pretty garden verses — " A Garden is a 
 Lovesome Thing," by Thomas Brown, etc., etc. 
 
 The play is especially suited to be given out doors at 
 the closing exercises of a country school, or a woodland 
 or garden entertainment. For this fuller directions 
 follow. 
 
 61 
 
PROLOGUE 
 
 Spoken by Pansy 
 
 My name is Pansy, and my part 
 Is to enchain each mind and heart 
 Until, perforce, you see with me 
 A garden, loved of bird and bee, 
 Where stately lilies raise their heads, 
 And poppies border all the beds; 
 Where starry mignonette is found, 
 And moss and grass and dew abound. 
 Think that before your mind's clear eyes 
 The garden dark and silent lies 
 Till you behold a curious light 
 Dancing and wav'ring through the night. 
 Will-o'-the-Wisp is drawing near! 
 His step so soft you scarce can hear! 
 And thus, before the break of day, 
 He will begin our little play. 
 
 62 
 
THE ENCHANTED GARDEN 
 
 The scene is a garden, preferably a real one. If 
 this is not possible and the play is wished for Winter 
 use, it can be given indoors. In this case the stage 
 should be covered with green baize and green potted 
 plants such as ferns and palms can be used effectively. 
 
 It is supposed to be night when the play begins. The 
 poppies stand in the background on each side of a 
 throne covered with green moss. 
 
 In the center of the stage stands Will-o'-the-Wisp 
 with his lighted lantern. As he speaks he sways his 
 lantern to and fro in the darkness. 
 
 WlLL-O'-THE-WlSP. 
 
 Hush! The flowers are sleeping! See them, one and 
 
 all, 
 Mignonette and Iris and the Lily tall, 
 Drowsy crimson poppies nodding by the wall. 
 
 When the dew is falling through the summer night 
 tiither do I wander with my lantern bright, 
 Guarding all the sleepers by its elfin light. 
 
 I can feel the night wind softly passing by, 
 Hear the crickets chirping and the gray owl's cry, 
 Watch the pale moon gliding through the cloudy sky; 
 63 
 
04 THE ENCHANTED GARDEN 
 
 I am free to wander where the fairies play, 
 Through the fens and gardens nimbly do I stray, 
 But I always vanish with the break of day! 
 
 [Exit Will-o-the-Wisp. As he goes the dawn 
 breaks, a rosy glow over all the garden. 
 The flowers slowly raise their heads. 
 
 Mignonette. 
 
 Awak'en ! Awaken ! For lo, 'tis the dawn ! 
 Night time is over 
 
 Poppy 
 (stretching). 
 
 I feel I must yawn! 
 
 Mignonette. 
 
 Oh, all things are stirring — the air blows so sweet! 
 'Tis only the garden that's still fast asleep — 
 The Poppies so drowsily nodding their heads, 
 The Sweet Peas in nightcaps asleep in their beds! 
 So while through the stillness clear bird voices break, 
 Come, let's show the world that we, too, are awake ! 
 
 [The flowers join in a slow dance, minuet-like 
 in its dignity, and resembling the swayng of 
 flowers in the breeze. When they return 
 to their places Wild Rose is discovered in 
 the center of the stage, looking timidly 
 about her. 
 
THE ENCHANTED GARDEN 65 
 
 Lily. 
 Mignonette, pray you look! A new flower is here! 
 
 Mignonette. 
 She doesn't belong to the garden, that's clear! 
 
 Poppy. 
 A very great liberty for her to take! 
 
 Wild Rose. 
 
 I'm just a Wild Rose — I strayed in by mistake 
 
 Last night — in the dark. Oh, pray don't think me 
 
 bold, 
 For garden's are very exclusive I'm told! 
 
 [While Wild Rose is speaking the other 
 flowers whisper together, ivith many dis- 
 paraging glances and much shaking of heads. 
 
 Iris 
 
 (haughtily). 
 
 The flowers who grow here are flowers every one 
 
 knows, 
 But none of them ever have heard of a Rose! 
 
 Sweet Pea. 
 You say you're a Wild Rose; but how do we know! 
 
 Lily 
 And where do you live? 
 
66 THE ENCHANTED GARDEN 
 
 Wild Rose. 
 
 Why, by roadways I grow! 
 
 Lily. 
 
 By roadways, where every one sees you ! Dear ! Dear ! 
 There's little seclusion in that life I fear! 
 
 Poppy. 
 And who are your gardeners ? 
 
 Wild Rose. 
 
 The sun and the rain. 
 
 Sweet Pea 
 (to Poppy). 
 My dear, she knows little of pruning, 'tis plain! 
 
 Wild Rose. 
 
 Yet all flowers are related — a cousin am I 
 To fair Mistress Lily who's standing close by. 
 
 Lily 
 
 (haughtily). 
 
 A mere country cousin! Pray stay in your place! 
 Field families always are held in disgrace. 
 
 (shortly and snappily) 
 Not even mentioned — so lowly they're rated. 
 You grow near a road. You're not cultivated. 
 
THE ENCHANTED GARDEN 67 
 
 Wild Rose 
 
 (gently). 
 
 I never have lived behind walls, it is true; 
 
 Yet we share, do we not, the wind and the dew? 
 
 Lily 
 (aside to Sweet Pea). 
 The Wild Rose has thorns ! 
 
 Iris. 
 
 She is not very tall. 
 Her outlook on life must be lowly and small. 
 
 Mignonette. 
 
 Pray, who are your friends? 
 
 Wild Rose 
 
 (brightening). 
 
 The staunch Blackberry Vim. 
 And Blue Bell and Daisy and sweet Columbine. 
 
 Poppy. 
 
 Sweet "Columbine"! "Blue Bell"! What strange 
 
 names are these! 
 "Blackberry" and "Daisy"! Do listen, Sweet Peasl 
 
 Iris 
 
 (with aloofness). 
 The country's a very strange place, I am told. 
 
68 THE ENCHANTED GARDEN 
 
 Wild Rose 
 
 (eagerly). 
 
 The meadows are starred with the Buttercups gold, 
 The bee hovers and hums — the Bobolink sings, 
 The Swallow flies by with a glad rush of wings — 
 The fields stretch away to clap hands with the sky — 
 
 And 
 
 Lily 
 
 (tartly). 
 
 There! Hush your chatter! Here's Prince 
 Butterfly. 
 
 [Prince Butterfly enters. 
 
 Mignonette. 
 Good morning, dear Prince! 
 
 Prince Butterfly 
 
 (flitting from one flower to another, teasingly). 
 
 Ah, most rare Mignonette, 
 
 The loveliest flower in the garden ! And yet 
 
 The Iris is fairer. (Goes to Iris.) Ah, pretty Sweet 
 
 Pea, 
 
 Pink sunbonnets still are in fashion, I see! 
 
 Sweet Pea 
 (flattered). 
 Do tell us the news. Prince! 
 
THE ENCHANTED GARDEN 69 
 
 Prince Butterfly 
 
 (as flowers crowd about him, with the exception of 
 
 Wild Rose, whom he has not perceived, 
 
 and who stands by herself). 
 
 What! Have you not heard? 
 I thought it might come by some gossipy bird ! 
 Well, my news then is this : the great Queen of Hearts 
 Will leave for one morning her baking of tarts 
 To choose from this garden the loveliest flower. 
 
 Poppy 
 (smoothing her dress). 
 My petals are charming! 
 
 Lily 
 (anxiously). 
 
 I hope it won't shower! 
 
 Sweet Pea 
 
 (fastening her sunbonnet). 
 
 And no one can tell which bright flower she'll like 
 best 
 
 Mignonette 
 
 (airily). 
 
 I'm sure I'm the sweetest! 
 
70 THE ENCHANTED GARDEN 
 
 Iris 
 (regally). 
 
 And I'm the best dressed ! 
 [The Flowers return to their places. Prince 
 Butterfly suddenly perceives Wild Rose. 
 
 Prince Butterfly. 
 By my wings! Who is this? 
 
 Iris. 
 
 'Tis only a weed 
 Who came from the country. 
 
 Prince Butterfly 
 
 (pausing by Wild Rose). 
 
 A strange weed, indeed! 
 None other than Wild Rose, than whom I declare 
 There is not a flower in the garden more fair! 
 
 Poppy. 
 Dear Prince, you are hasty — pray don't be beguiled ! 
 
 Iris. 
 She says she's well-born ; but we know she grows wild. 
 
 Prince Butterfly 
 
 (wheeling suddenly, his light manner gone, his voice 
 
 filled with indignation). 
 And wild were you once, ere the garden you knew 4 
 
THE ENCHANTED GARDEN n 
 
 So be not so proud of your bearing and hue! (Iris 
 hides face.) 
 
 (cuttingly, to Lily) 
 
 Wild Lilies grow tall in the marsh and the sedge! 
 
 (to Poppy) 
 Yowr family comes from a wheat field's bright edge! 
 
 (to Mignonette) 
 The stars and the tufts that so proudly you wear 
 Are gems which the Rocket Weed family share! 
 
 (to Sweet Pea) 
 Where sunshine lies warmest and salt breezes blow. 
 On meadow and dune do your relatives grow! 
 
 (To Wild Rose, bowing low.) 
 While you, sweetest Rose (with your petals unfurled!) 
 Are sought for and loved throughout all of the world 
 In hut or in palace. This garden seemed bare 
 Till chance brought you to us, to grace it, most fair! 
 [The flowers stand with hanging heads, utterly 
 abashed, unable to look up. Two short 
 blasts of a herald's trumpet are sounded off 
 stage, and Bumble Bee enters, going fussily 
 about, not noticing what has taken place. 
 
 Bumble Bee. 
 
 Here I come humming — the velvet Bee! 
 Busy as ever you plainly see! 
 
72 THE ENCHANTED GARDEN 
 
 Green Mignonette, and gay Lily Bell, 
 Which of you all has honey to sell? 
 For here am I with my sacks to hold 
 All you can give me of pollen gold. 
 Butterfly loves to dally and shirk, 
 But as for me — I delight in work 
 
 [Queen of Hearts appears in background. Bee 
 perceives her, and instantly holds himself 
 erect as a herald, and comes down center to 
 front of stage. 
 
 Hark! With my droning trumpet I boom: 
 "The Queen is coming! Give room! Give room!" 
 Down through your borders a pathway make, 
 For one of the flowers the Queen will take! 
 
 [Queen of Hearts comes down center. 
 
 Queen. 
 
 I'm weary of Lilies, I'm tired of Sweet Peas — 
 Mignonette and gay Poppies — all fail to please. 
 But here is a Wild Rose — with petals of pink — 
 
 Wild Rose 
 (very much confused). 
 
 I came in by mistake 
 
 Queen 
 (kindly). 
 
 No great harm, I think! 
 You speak of the country — of long summer hours, 
 Of dew and of sunshine, of shadows and showers. 
 
THE ENCHANTED GARDEN 73 
 
 Bumble Bee. 
 So honey-sweet, she, I can scarce keep away! 
 
 Prince Butterfly. 
 
 I have heard Will-o'-the-Wisp and fairy folk say 
 That when a Wild Rose doth her petals unfold 
 'Tis plain to be seen that her heart is of gold! 
 
 Queen. 
 
 Enough! then no longer I'll go on my quest, 
 For this is the flower that I choose from the rest. 
 My garden without her would not be complete. 
 
 Prince Butterfly 
 (delighted). 
 I vow she is charming ! 
 
 Bumble Bee 
 (sturdily). 
 I swear she is sweet! 
 
 Queen. 
 
 No Rose in my garden has ever yet grown, 
 So this is the flower that I choose for my own. 
 
 (To Prince Butterfly and Bumble Bee.) 
 
 As she was content common roadways to grace 
 Now deck her with dew-pearls and gossamer lace. 
 
74 THE ENCHANTED GARDEN 
 
 (to Wild Rose) 
 
 Grow queenly and splendid; for every one knows 
 No garden is perfect that boasts not a Rose ! 
 
 [Wild Rose bows low and kisses the Queen \ 
 hand. Bumble Bee picks up the Queen s 
 train, like a page. Butterfly holds her fan. 
 The Queen leads Wild Rose to the mossy 
 throne in background. Bumble Bee and 
 Prince Butterfly stand on each side of the 
 throne while the Queen crowns Wild Rose 
 with a splendid wreath of laurel. Then 
 Exit the Queen, with Prince Butterfly and 
 Bumble Bee attending her. 
 
 Iris 
 (penitently). 
 I fear my fine raiment has rendered me blind! 
 
 Mignonette. 
 A garden may often be narrow, I find. 
 
 Lily. 
 
 While a tall wall that hides all the world from ou* 
 
 view 
 Is not half so fine as horizons wide blue! 
 
 All the Flowers in Unison. 
 Forgive us, oh Wild Rose! 
 
THE ENCHANTED GARDEN 75 
 
 Wild Rose 
 
 (rising, standing on steps of mossy throne, and speak- 
 ing very clearly and sweetly). 
 
 Nay, what's to forgive! 
 The past is forgotten. In peace let us live, 
 Content without envy or rancor to grow — 
 For all of us started in Eden, you know! 
 
 Curtain 
 
COSTUMES 
 
 Wild Rose: Short dress with petal-like folds of deep 
 
 pink. 
 Bumble Bee: Black suit striped with yellow. Gold 
 
 belt. Gray gauze wings. 
 Will-o'-the-Wisp: Black suit, spangled. He carries 
 
 a lighted lantern. 
 Prince Butterfly: Suit of brown. Large vari. 
 
 colored wings. 
 Peas Blossom: Short white dress. Pink sunbonnet. 
 Lily: Long orange-colored robe with black velvet dots. 
 Mignonette: Deep green dress, covered with tiny red 
 
 and pale green stars. 
 Iris: White trailing dress with pale lavender overdress 
 
 cut like Fleur-de-Lis petals. 
 Poppy: Crimson dress, short, made of shimmering 
 
 silk. Huge red poppy leaf hat. 
 The Queen of Hearts: White robe with red 
 
 Hearts. Long train. 
 The other Poppies are in the same crimson costume, 
 but the Sweet Peas wear white dresses with different 
 colored sunbonnets, pale yellow, de^p purple, white, etc. 
 Appropriate music for the flower dance would be 
 Nevin's " Narcissus," or Lang's " Flower Song." 
 Music should also be played during the pantomime 
 where the Queen leads Wild Rose to the throne. 
 76 
 
NIMBLE-WIT AND FINGERKIN 
 
CAST 
 
 Katinka, daughter of Nathan the woodcutter 
 
 Dame Difficulty, a witch 
 
 Try, a sprite 
 
 Nimble-Wit, another 
 
 First Fingerkin, "Thumbling " 
 
 Second Fingerkin, 
 
 Third Fingerkin, >- Dwarfs 
 
 Fourth Fingerkin, 
 
 Fifth Fingerkin, " Little Fingerkin," ^ 
 
DRAMATIC DIRECTIONS 
 
 While fuller directions follow, for this play have a 
 plain deal table and two or three deal chairs for the 
 furniture of the schoolroom stage; a spinning wheel 
 made of a small wagon wheel fastened to a wooden 
 frame, and having an imitation spindle which the boys 
 can easily construct, or, what is easier still, a loom 
 made of a simple frame of laths with threads stretched 
 across it (see any authentic picture of old-fashioned 
 looms or spinning wheels). 
 
 Katinka should wear a cap of glazed cambric or 
 white tissue paper with a border of gay red and blue 
 tissue paper pasted on it. A deep girdle and pouch 
 pocket made of glazed cambric with a red, blue, and 
 green border basted to it, to give it a quaint, old- 
 world peasant air. For Dame Difficulty, a long black 
 dress, black shawl, and muffler worn as a hood. From 
 under this hood float long wisps of gray hair made from 
 the ends of frayed rope. Draw charcoal lines about 
 her forehead, mouth, and eyes, to give her a truly 
 witch-like appearance. Nimble-Wit should have a 
 scarlet girdle and cap; Try, a silver wand, crown and 
 girdle, made of silver paper pasted to cambric. The 
 Fingerkins should wear pinky-brown tissue paper caps, 
 all alike, to give them an elf-like look. 
 79 
 
80 DRAMATIC DIRECTIONS 
 
 The cupboard later mentioned can be made of dry- 
 goods boxes. An imitation window, made by putting 
 up a little curain of dark glazed cambric, is an addition, 
 but not strictly necessary. The fireplace is made of 
 four good sized drygoods boxes from which the covers 
 have been removed. Nail two of them together, and 
 place a board across the top, one end resting on them, 
 and the other on the other two. Paint or chalk them 
 red, leaving white lines in squares, as if it were built 
 of bricks. Or paste red tissue paper all over it, cut 
 in brick shapes. Smudge it a little with charcoal to 
 give it the effect of sootiness and long use. Have a 
 pair of andirons made of cardboard wired and painted 
 black, and beneath them embers of red paper and black 
 coal. Let the children use their own ingenuity in 
 helping to fashion the interior. For a more elaborate 
 setting and array of costumes, see the directions that 
 follow. This is an Industrial play, and the teacher 
 would do well to dwell on such aspects of it as are 
 applicable to the everyday life of the schoolroom. 
 
NIMBLE-WIT AND FINGERKIN 
 
 Scene: Dame Difficulty's house in the midst of a 
 wood. A somewhat dark room. At the left a wide- 
 mouthed chimney place. A large black witch's caldron 
 simmering on the coals. Above the chimneyplace hang 
 several rude iron cooking utensils, notably a large iron 
 spoon. At the left background a window curtained in 
 dark cambric. At the left background a door opening 
 on the forest without. Between the window and the 
 door a dark arras. Against the right wall a cupboard. 
 In the center of the room a deal table and chair. 
 
 On the table a plate of dark bread, and a candle 
 burning. To the left of the table a spinning-wheel 
 and stool. On the floor near the wheel a heap of gray, 
 tangled flax. 
 
 At the rise of the curtain Dame Difficulty, an evil- 
 looking witch, is seated, busily spinning. From time 
 to time, as she spins, she raises her head, as if listening. 
 It is drawing towards twilight and occasionally the 
 iind wails without. After a moment Dame Difficulty 
 .eaves her wheel and bends over the simmering pot. 
 
 Dame Difficulty. 
 
 Brew ! Brew ! 
 
 Nightbane and rue! 
 
 81 
 
82 NIMBLE-WIT AND FINGERKIN 
 
 Herbs from strange fens and morasses up-torn — 
 
 Bud of the Languor Flower, root of the Thorn! 
 
 Bubbling and brewing 
 
 To mortal's undoing 
 
 The Draught of Discouragement ever I keep. 
 
 My black herbs I steep. 
 
 (Bending over pot.) 
 
 Be subtle and strong! 
 Draw fast! Be not long! 
 
 [Hovers a moment over brew with weird, 
 menacing gestures, and then goes to wheel, 
 and begins to spin. 
 
 Hist! Hist! 
 
 Linger and List! 
 
 All things that the shadows and swamp-dew have 
 
 kissed ! 
 This way and that does my Wonder-Thread twist! 
 Reel! Reel! 
 Each turn o' the wheel 
 
 Is weaving and winding for woe or for weal ! 
 From the Fens of Despair have I gathered the flax, 
 In swamp and foul lair have I sought the wasp's wax 
 That smooth it may run 
 When once 'tis begun. 
 Gray — gray is the weaving, 
 And strong past believing! 
 But he who has striven, 
 To him it is given 
 
XIMBLE-WIT AND FINGERKIN 83 
 
 To turn it to gold. 
 All power shall he hold 
 Over me and my wheel. 
 Therefore riddle and reel 
 Till the thread's end I feel! 
 
 [As her chant ends there comes a timid rap on 
 the door without. 
 
 Dame Difficulty. 
 
 Who's there? 
 
 Katinka 
 
 (clearly, without). 
 
 'Tis I, Katinka, daughter of Nathan the wood- 
 cutter. 
 
 Dame Difficulty. 
 
 Lift the latch and enter. 
 
 Katinka. 
 
 (entering, unlighted lantern in hand). 
 
 Good Dame, I have lost my way in the wood, and 
 came upon the tangled, twisted path that led me to 
 your door. 
 
 Dame Difficulty. 
 
 Sit you down and rest. There is bread on that 
 platter yonder. Eat, if you will. 
 
*4 NIMBLE-WIT AND FINGERKIN 
 
 Katinka 
 
 (prettily). 
 
 I thank you. (Sits and eats, but with faint-hearted 
 nibbles that show she does not relish it.) 
 
 Dame Difficulty 
 (keenly, looking up from her spinning). 
 Do you not like my food? 
 
 Katinka 
 (frankly). 
 It has a bitter taste. 
 
 Dame Difficulty 
 (dryly). . 
 Few find the Bread of Difficulty sweet. 
 
 Katinka. 
 
 There are hours when nothing seems so! This has 
 been such a long, long day, good dame, and nought 
 Has gone right in it since early morning, and now, at 
 sunset, I have lost my way. 'Tis the first time that 
 such an ill thing has ever befallen me, for I know the 
 forest paths by heart, yet this is the only twilight I 
 ever came upon your strange little house with its heavy 
 door. 
 
 Dame Difficulty. 
 
 Aye, all people come to that door, soon or late. 
 
NIMBLE-WIT AND FINGERKIN 85 
 
 Katinka 
 (wondering). 
 But have I never seen you before, good dame? 
 
 Dame Difficulty 
 (turning and facing her). 
 
 Nay, never before, I think, so look well at me now, 
 and see that you do not forget me! (Katinka stares, 
 rather frightened, and wholly unable to remove hei 
 eyes.) Do you think me beautiful that you look so 
 long? 
 
 Katinka 
 (withdrawing her eyes). 
 
 I did not mean to stare, good dame. Rudeness 
 would be indeed an ill payment for your hospitality. 
 (Rises.) And now I feel I can return in safety, for the 
 gleam of the charcoal burners' fires will light me 
 through the dusk. 
 
 Dame Difficulty 
 
 (clutching her). 
 
 Never so fast, oh, woodcutter's child! Those who 
 enter the door of Dame Difficulty go not forth so 
 easily. Before you cross that threshold again there 
 are three tasks you shall accomplish. (Indicates.) 
 You shall turn the tangled flax to silver; you shall spin 
 the thread to gold; and make my bitter brew a thing 
 of sweetness! (Leering.) Drink deep of mv caldron! 
 
86 NIMBLE-WIT AND FINGERKIN ' 
 
 Katinka 
 (bewildered). 
 
 But, dame 
 
 Dame Difficulty 
 (fiercely) . 
 
 Speak not till I have finished! These things shall 
 you do ere I return again. Work swiftly, oh wood- 
 cutter's child! Who lingers under my roof has need 
 of every moment! (Exit Dame Difficulty through door 
 in background, with a menacing backward glance.) 
 
 Katinka 
 
 (slowly). 
 
 " Has need of every moment! " What means she? 
 (More resolutely.) Nay, I must not let myself be af- 
 frighted by Dame Difficulty! (Runs to door.) 'Tis 
 bolted ! How noiselessly she turned the key ! (Shakes 
 it.) 'Twould take more strength than I have in my 
 bones to move such a weight an inch! (Runs to win- 
 dow, pulls curtain, looks out.) Fastened! Barred 
 (Runs to fireplace and falling on knees examines it.) 
 Alas! I could never crawl up so steep a chimney! 
 (Touching spinning wheel.) And this wheel ! I would 
 fain know how I am ever to spin it and make golden 
 so gray a thread! And this flax — how can I turn it 
 to silver ! And this brew (Bends over witch's caldron) 
 'tis so foul and thick that all the fire in the world will 
 not go an inch towards sweetening it! Alack for the 
 
NIMBLE-WIT AND FINGERKIN 87 
 
 hour I ever crossed her threshold! (Bending over 
 caldron.) She said I must taste of the brew! (Sips at 
 it gingerly with a huge iron spoon that hangs near by.) 
 It has an ill savor! (Puts down spoon and rises.) 
 Time shortens! Night comes apace. I must do the 
 best I can. (With growing despair.) And yet — and 
 yet — my heart grows heavier, and heavier! Oh, I can 
 never do the tasks, I know! (Crosses to table, and 
 leaning on it hides head in arms.) 
 
 Try 
 
 (dancing lightly out from behind arras in back). 
 
 Nay, Katinka, be not so down-hearted, since I, a 
 sprite named Try, have come to help you. 
 
 Katinka 
 
 (raising her head). 
 
 I heard no step! How came you hither? 
 
 Try 
 
 (looking cautiously about). 
 
 Hist! 'Tis a secret! The very walls might speak 
 it if they knew! By my white magic I can make 
 myself as tall as a mountain or as small as a mouse. 
 And 'tis when I am small as a mouse that I creep 
 behind yonder arras, and only come out again when I 
 see that I am greatly needed. Little does Dame Diffi- 
 culty guess that I lodge beneath her very roof ! (Mys- 
 teriously.) Aye, and there be others who lodge here 
 also! 
 
88 NIMBLE-WIT AND FINGERKIN 
 
 Katinka 
 (pleadingly). 
 Good Try, will you not help me? 
 
 Try. 
 
 I cannot help you, Katinka; but I can show you 
 where help lies. It is you who must help yourself. 
 
 Katinka 
 (beseeching). 
 But I so greatly need your aid! 
 
 Try. 
 
 There is aid in my words, Katinka, when I tell 
 you that if you do not master Dame Difficulty she 
 will master you! But once having mastered her, 
 whenever you meet her, you need fear her no more! 
 
 Katinka. 
 
 Indeed, indeed I will do your bidding, good sprite, 
 though there are so many things to be accomplished 
 that my heart grows heavy at the very thought of them 
 The brewing (Bends to taste from caldron.) 
 
 Try 
 
 (passionately). 
 
 Put down the draught, Katinka! Touch it not on 
 your life! Already one sip of it has made your heart 
 
NIMBLE-WIT AND FINGERKIN 89 
 
 like lead. 'Tis the Draught of Discouragement — 
 Dame Difficulty's ill brewing! 
 
 Katinka. 
 Is there no way to sweeten it? 
 
 Try 
 
 (taking leaves of an herb from girdle and gives it to 
 Katinka). 
 
 But one — the leaf of a little herb called Hope. 'Tis 
 a common plant, and grows by every roadside. 
 
 Katinka 
 (after sprinkling herb leaves into caldron). 
 
 Already it begins to clear! (Goes to flax.) How 
 tangled the flax is! (She begins to work on it.) 
 
 Try 
 
 (singing). 
 
 Those who heed the voice of Try 
 Will find that Nimble-Wit is nigh! 
 Come, then, clever Nimble-Wit — 
 To this skein your magic fit! 
 
 Nimble-Wit 
 
 (springing out nimbly from behind the arras in back- 
 ground). 
 
 I have lain here for long hours waiting for Try's 
 
90 NIMBLE-WIT AND FINGERKIN 
 
 voice to arouse me, and now that I may caper as I 
 will, I am at your service, Katinka. 
 
 Katinka. 
 
 Pray you, good Nimble- Wit, what will you do to 
 aid me? 
 
 Nimble-Wit. 
 
 I will summon the most wonderful little wizards 
 in the world — the dwarfs who always move at my 
 bidding. 
 
 Katinka. 
 And who are they? 
 
 Nimble-Wit. 
 
 They are none but the Five Fingerkins, Thumbling 
 and his brothers! 
 
 [The Five Fingerkins spring out from behind 
 the arras in background at these words. 
 
 Thumbling 
 
 (as the other Fingerkins stand in a row and bow loiv)* 
 What is your will with us, good Nimble- Wit? 
 
 Nimble- Wit. 
 
 My will is that vou should aid Katinka. Yonder 
 is the flax of failure — it must be turned to silver. 
 There is the Thread of Difficulty — it must be spun to 
 gold. And Katinka herself must do the spinning. 
 
NIMBLE-WIT AND FINGERKIN 91 
 
 Second Fingerkin 
 (going to flax). 
 Your will is our pleasure, Nimble- Wit! 
 
 Third Fingerkin 
 (joining Second Fingerkin). 
 You will see how fast the work will fly! 
 
 Fourth Fingerkin 
 
 (at iv he el). , 
 
 My place will be by Katinka! 
 
 Fifth Fingerkin 
 (in a squeaky little voice). 
 Thumbling, come help me by the wheel ! 
 
 [Thumbling and Fifth Fingerkin seat them- 
 selves on the floor, left, and wind the thread 
 that is made from the flax which is being 
 spun; Try stands near the brew at fireplace, 
 occasionally stirring up the coals, and 
 Nimble-Wit hovers about Katinka at the 
 wheel. During all the previous business, 
 while the Fingerkins have been finding their 
 places, Katinka under the pantomimic di- 
 rections of Nimble-Wit has been learning to 
 spin. 
 
02 NIMBLE-WIT AND FINGERKIN 
 
 First Fingerkin 
 (busily). 
 
 Aye, 'tis of a truth that Dame Difficulty can never 
 master us! 
 
 [For a few moments the work goes on in 
 silence, all doing their part in it, making 
 it a very animated pantomime. Then, grad- 
 ually Katinka shows signs of tiring — the 
 wheel goes slower; she yawns and stretches. 
 
 Katinka. 
 Alack ! •'Tis a wearisome thing to turn a wheel ! 
 Try 
 (from place by hearthstone). 
 Spin! Spin! Katinka! Let not a moment pass! 
 Katinka 
 (impatiently). 
 Out upon such labor, say I! 
 Try 
 (disturbed). 
 Beseech you, heed my voice! 
 
 Katinka 
 (more and more impatiently). 
 This flax ! How often it breaks ! Never will it be- 
 come gold! 
 
NIMBLE-WIT AND FINGERKIN 93 
 
 Nimble-Wit 
 (warningly). 
 The wheel is stopping, Katinka! 
 
 Katinka 
 
 (pettishly). 
 
 1 care not! (Stops wheel with a jerk, and leans 
 back indolently in her chair. The instant she stops 
 work all the others stop work also, as if suddenly 
 frozen — Try, in the act of poking the coals, becomes a 
 statue, the Fingerkins, with work upraised in their 
 hands, become absolutely rigid. Nimble-Wit stands 
 motionless behind her chair. Katinka finally drowses. 
 There is a moment's utter silence, which is broken by 
 the soft fall of a coal on the hearth. Katinka starts, 
 opens her eyes, looks about, and perceives what has 
 happened.) Why, they are all like statues! (Runs 
 about, trying to move them, but in vain.) They do 
 not move! They do not hear! They do not even 
 answer! And my spinning — 'twill come to nought! 
 The witch may soon return — Oh, I must work with 
 
 all my strength — with all my soul (Runs back 
 
 to chair, seats herself and begins to spin. With the 
 first revolution of the wheel the Fingerkins slowly and 
 silently begin to stir. Katinka suddenly looks up and 
 sees them.) They wake! They stir! 
 
 Try. 
 
 Aye, for the spell is broken 1 
 
94 NIMBLE-WIT AND FINGERKIN 
 
 Nimble-Wit. 
 
 'Tis you who rule us and give us power. Without 
 you we can do nought — the Fingerkins are helpless. 
 When you are idle, we are idle also. When you 
 would work we spring to your least word! 
 
 Katinka 
 (tremblingly keeping on with her spinning). 
 
 Alas ! good Nimble-Wit, what shall I do when Dame 
 Difficulty returns? 
 
 Nimble-Wit 
 (quietly smiling). 
 
 Long ere that you will be on your way homeward, 
 Katinka. For when these tasks are done, the latch of 
 Difficulty will fall of its self, and you will be free. 
 
 Try. 
 
 And to-morrow, Katinka, all this will seem like a 
 dream, and you will say to yourself: "What strange 
 things happened while I slept !" 
 
 Katinka. 
 
 (wistfully). 
 
 And must I bid farewell to you then for always? 
 
 Try. 
 
 Nay, this is not our only home, though it is beneath 
 this roof that we have become best acquainted. We 
 
NIMBLE-WIT AND FINGERKIN 95 
 
 have other dwelling places. My true home is in 
 people's hearts. 
 
 Nimble-Wit. 
 And mine in their heads. 
 
 Thumbling. 
 
 And ours — Brothers, shall I tell her the secret of 
 who we are and where we live? 
 
 [All Fingerkins nod vigorously in assent. 
 
 Thumbling. 
 We're the dwarfs who come at each child's command. 
 
 Second Fingerkin. 
 By our art Dame Difficulty's tasks are spanned. 
 
 Third Fingerkin. 
 Would you see our home ? Then look at your hand I 
 
 All Fingerkins 
 (together, jovially). 
 We're the Five Little Fingerkins! 
 
 Thumbling. 
 There's never a task we can't put through! 
 
 Second Fingerkin. 
 We're always ready your will to do! 
 
96 NIMBLE-WIT AND FINGERKIN 
 
 Fourth Fingerkin. 
 And I'd call quite often if I were you. 
 
 All Fingerkins 
 (as before). 
 On the Five Little Fingerkins! 
 
 Try. 
 
 Come, look to the brewing, Katinka! 
 
 [Katinka crosses to hearthstone and bends over 
 caldron. Incense is burned behind the 
 scenes so that it fills the room. 
 
 Katinka. 
 It has grown clear, and has the sweetest fragrance ! 
 
 Try 
 (nodding). 
 
 It is the savor of Heartsease! 
 
 [Sound of a latch falling without. 
 
 Katinka. 
 
 What sound was that? 
 
 Try. 
 
 The falling of the Latch of Difficulty! 
 
NIMBLE-WIT AND FINGERKIN 97 
 
 Thumbling 
 
 (jumping up). 
 
 Brothers, our tasks are finished. (During the work 
 that has gone before, the Fingerkins have been adding 
 gold and silver tinsel threads to what they do, so that 
 now it shimmers in the candlelight.) And here is 
 your lantern, Katinka, to light you homeward through 
 the dark forest. 
 
 Nimble-Wit. 
 
 And we will go with you and guard you to the door. 
 
 Katinka 
 
 (sorrowfully). 
 
 Only to the door, good Nimble-Wit? Alas! I had 
 not thought to part with you so soon! 
 
 Nimble- Wit. 
 
 You shall not part from us, Katinka, for now that 
 you have truly come to know us we will be your 
 servants always. But say to yourself: " I will try," 
 and we will appear! 
 
 Try. 
 
 Lead the way, Nimble-Wit. Come, Fingerkins, 
 with the lantern! 
 
 [Delicate music off stage. Exit all into the 
 forest; the door closes after them. A 
 pause. Dame Difficulty lifts the latch and 
 enters. 
 
98 NIMBLE-WIT AND FINGERKIN 
 
 Dame Difficulty. 
 
 Gone? Aye, when the latch fell loose to my touch 
 I feared that it was so! The child has escaped me! 
 She has mastered me ! (Peers further about.) Strange 
 spirits have been at work while I was absent! The 
 brew is clear and fragrant; the flax is touched with 
 silver! (Lifts candle and looks at thread.) Aha! I 
 see she has learned white magic, that woodcutter's 
 daughter, for even the gray Thread of Difficulty has 
 been turned to gold! 
 
COSTUMES 
 
 Katinka: Peasant costume. Scarlet skirt with three 
 rows of black ribbon on it. Black velvet bodice, 
 white guimpe, and sleeves. Black velvet belt and 
 pouch pocket, richly embroidered in many colors. 
 White " Normandy " cap. Hair in braids. 
 
 Dame Difficulty: Black robe, black mantle, and 
 black witch's hood. From beneath this hang long 
 gray elf locks. 
 
 Try: Pale lavender robe falling in long graceful folds 
 to her feet. Angel sleeves. Square neck edged 
 with silver. Silver spangles. Silver wand and 
 wreath in hair. ♦ 
 
 Nimble- Wit: Dark gray suit, doublet, and hose. 
 Scarlet girdle, and scarlet feather in cap. 
 
 Fingerkins: Light brown suits, all alike, and of the 
 same style, in a measure, as Nimble-Wit's. Light 
 brown peaked caps. Brown leather belts. 
 
A LITTLE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
CHARACTERS 
 
 In Order of their Entrance 
 
 Dame Decision 
 
 The Little Pilgrim 
 
 Steadfast 
 
 Knowledge 
 
 Courage 
 
 Joyousness 
 
 Falsepride 
 
 Selfishness 
 
 boastfulness 
 
 Faintheart 
 
 Honesty 
 
 Anger 
 
DRAMATIC DIRECTIONS 
 
 The setting of this play calls for two deal tables 
 and four benches. Chairs will do if no benches can 
 be had. There should be two entrances, as indicated 
 in the further directions for the play. These can be 
 arranged by means of screens or draped clothes-horses. 
 In case screens are used be sure to turn the plain side 
 to the audience. The fireplace is made by nailing dry- 
 goods boxes together with a board across the top, and 
 painting the whole to represent brick. Embers of red 
 paper and black coal. An empty bookcase for a cup- 
 board. 
 
 Over her everyday clothes the child who plays Dame 
 Decision should wear a white Puritan cap and ker- 
 chief. All the children, including those who play the 
 part of the vices, should wear the long " Pilgrim " or 
 " Traveler's " cloaks that were the custom in those 
 days. This will hide their everyday apparel and make 
 them sufficiently " costumed " to suit any schoolroom 
 needs. The cloaks can be made of two or three yards 
 of cheese cloth. (See any well-known picture of Pil- 
 grims or Puritans). Russet cloak for the Pilgrim. 
 Old-rose cloak for Steadfast. Purple cloak for Knowl- 
 edge. For Courage a pale gray cloak, a helmet fash- 
 ioned of cardboard and covered with silver paper, and 
 103 
 
104 DRAMATIC DIRECTIONS 
 
 a belt to which a sword is attached. Falsepride, a 
 cloak of figured Japanese crepe, the kind that 
 has gold and flowers on it. Selfishness, black cloak. 
 Boastfulness, dark green cloak, yellow cardboard hel- 
 met and breastplate. Faintheart, cloak one-half blue, 
 and one-half black. Anger, scarlet cloak. Honesty, 
 dull brown cloak, pointed black hat made of a peaked 
 tissue paper cap to which is fastened a black cardboard 
 rim. Pack made of black cardboard box strung with 
 black cords at shoulder. The play is suited for any 
 month or holiday when the teacher wishes to hold the 
 Pilgrims most in mind. For this reason it would make 
 a good Thanksgiving play. Tell the children the story 
 of Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, and show them the 
 really beautiful pictures that accompany the text in 
 many good editions. Show them also that the virtues 
 that the little Pilgrim finally possessed were just such 
 virtues as the real Pilgrims brought to this new land 
 of ours — and that they clung to them in spite of war, 
 famine, loneliness, and disaster. Had the Pilgrims 
 been of the same stripe as Faintheart and Selfishness 
 they would never have taken the perilous voyage in the 
 Mayflower. But Honesty, Courage, Steadfastness 
 Knowledge, Joyousness (Cheerfulness in their case) v 
 were what they brought with them. Have the children 
 find which of the Pilgrim heroes stood most clearly 
 for each of these separate virtues, Standish, Alden 
 and many more. In connection with the play read 
 them such stories as will interest them most. " A 
 Little Captive Lad," etc., etc. Show the children that 
 
DRAMATIC DIRECTIONS 105 
 
 the little Pilgrim in the play is the prototype of all 
 Pilgrims. Directions for a full stage production of 
 the play herewith follow; and the teacher should read 
 the directions aloud, for even if the schoolroom cannot 
 compass all the settings and costumes, it will give the 
 children an idea of the atmo'sphere and costumes of the 
 time. If the play is given in the schoolroom at Thanks- 
 giving exercises, the following prologue relating to the 
 Pilgrims may be spoken by a boy dressed as a Town 
 Crier. He should wear a tall Pilgrim hat, deep white 
 Pilgrim collar and a pair of white cuffs. A long dark 
 cloak fastened at his shoulders, and on his everyday 
 shoes a pair of wide gilt paper buckles securely fas- 
 tened. Around his neck a white cardboard placard 
 bearing the words: Town Crier. He should read 
 the prologue from a printed slip rolled to represent 
 parchment. In his left hand he carries a bell. If 
 the play is given at any other time than Thanksgiving, 
 this prologue is not recited; but in either case the one 
 by Dame Decision is always said. 
 
SPECIAL THANKSGIVING PROLOGUE 
 
 Friends, such a scene as here shall be 
 Was oft enacted over-sea 
 In those old wondrous far-off days 
 When Pilgrims with their proud, staunch ways 
 Refused the wrong and chose the right, 
 And let their sureness be their might. 
 Their praises, therefore, let us sing 
 'Twas they who made our Thanksgiving! 
 (And spread a feast on that far morn 
 To bless the garnered fruit and corn — 
 The apples and the golden maize — 
 For these they gave all thanks and praise!) 
 Wise-hearted Pilgrims, true and sure, 
 Quick to endeavor and endure, 
 'Twas they with work of brain and hand 
 Who sought and founded our new land! 
 They had no thought of ease or pelf, 
 They bid farewell to Love of Self, 
 They bravely passed through times of stress, 
 Yet gave not way to Boastfulness. 
 They conquered Anger and Falsepride, 
 No Faintheart could with them abide. 
 Grim fear before their stout souls flew, 
 Courage they had, and Knowledge, too, 
 106 
 
SPECIAL THANKSGIVING PROLOGUE 107 
 
 And Steadfastness! While in each heart 
 
 High Joyousness bore equal part, 
 
 Or else how could the Pilgrims face 
 
 From day to day the strange new place 
 
 Beset with famine and with foe, 
 
 With hardship, bleakness, wind, and snow! 
 
 They suffered hunger, sickness, cold, 
 
 They had few goods and little gold. 
 
 It was the spirit that they brought 
 
 Which did the marvels that they wrought— 
 
 A spirit dauntless, gallant, high, 
 
 Bequeathed to us to profit by. 
 
 So, comrades, as there now draws near 
 
 The time of bounty and of cheer, 
 
 Remember what the Pilgrims bore 
 
 In coming to this unknown shore, 
 
 And keep the land they gave to you 
 
 Forever splendid, great, and true! 
 
PROLOGUE 
 
 To be Spoken by Dame Decision 
 
 Friends, to what follows list ye well 
 
 And we will straightway strive to tell 
 
 A Little Pilgrim's history. 
 
 How at an inn he came to be ; 
 
 What friends he made, what foes he met ; 
 
 How in the end he was beset. 
 
 Here for a space there shall abide 
 
 Selfishness, Anger, and Falsepride. 
 
 Staunch Courage with his broadsword bright. 
 
 And Joyousness with footsteps light. 
 
 Our curtain, rising, shall disclose 
 
 What comrades the young Pilgrim chose 
 
 To company his onward way. 
 
 So, hearken, friends, unto our play, 
 
 And whether it shall please or pall, 
 
 We cry your patience for it all. 
 
 108 
 
A LITTLE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS* 
 
 In the Manner of a Morality 
 
 Scene: Dame Decision s Inn, 1678. Door in center 
 background. Another door at left. On each side of 
 the door in background are windows curtained in dark 
 damask. 
 
 In exactly the same place at right and left, half- 
 way from the center of the stage, two dark wooden 
 tables, with benches by them. On the tables wooden 
 cups and ewers filled with water. 
 
 At the right a fireplace: iron pot simmering on the 
 embers. On its hearth a thorn broom, a bellows. 
 On the mantelshelf a trencher, pewter plates and 
 candlesticks, etc. 
 
 The rest of the room is quite bare. 
 
 The door in background opens on a road gray with 
 dust, and a few bushes. The light of afternoon falls 
 through the curtained windows, gradually deepening 
 through twilight to night. 
 
 At the rise of the curtain Dame Decision is stooping 
 mending the fire. The Little Pilgrim pushes the door 
 in. background and enters timidly. 
 
 • Copyright, 1909, by the Century Co, 
 
 100 
 
no A LITTLE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 The Little Pilgrim. 
 
 Good dame, I pray you, may I rest me here? 
 A pilgrim, I! 
 
 Dame Decision 
 (rising). 
 Enter, and be of cheer. 
 
 The Little Pilgrim 
 (sitting at table at right), 
 I thank you. 
 
 Dame Decision. 
 
 Whither are you journeying? 
 
 The Little Pilgrim. 
 
 I go to seek th ,City of the King. 
 And here the road turns. 
 
 Dame Decision. 
 
 Aye, for good or ill a 
 My name is Dame Decision. Sit you still 
 And rest, till other pilgrims hither wend. 
 
 The Little Pilgrim 
 
 (eagerly). 
 
 Think you among them I shall find a friend 
 To bear me company along the way? 
 Oh, counsel me, good Dame, I pray you. 
 
A LITTLE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS in 
 
 Dame Decision. 
 
 Nay, 
 Pilgrim, I may not. Who doth here abide 
 Must choose his own friends, his own way decide. 
 Only by trial is true wisdom bought. 
 Did I decide for you, 'twould count you nought. 
 My part is but to keep the fire alight, 
 The tables garnished, and the flagons bright, 
 And the hearth swept — for every wand'ring guest. 
 
 [Fills cup with water and hands it to him, 
 
 Drink deep. 'Tis from the Well of Peace and Rest ! 
 
 The Little Pilgrim. 
 May any enter here and welcome find? 
 Dame Decision 
 (looking out of casemenij. 
 Aye, for my inn is open as the wind 
 To all who come. My hearthstone ever burns 
 For every wayfarer who hither turns. 
 
 The Little Pilgrim. 
 Your casements shine as brightly as a star! 
 
 Dame Decision. 
 
 The Casements of Perception, child, they are. 
 Ever I strive to keep them fair and clean 
 So that through each the world is clearly seen — 
 The radiant sunshine, and the wide blue sky — 
 The long road and its many passers-by; 
 
ii2 A LITTLE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 For if the Casements dark and cloudy grow 
 Dark, too, will be the outside world they show! 
 They who would ever see the world aright 
 Should keep the Casements of Perception bright. 
 
 Steadfast 
 (entering). 
 Good morrow, comrade! 
 
 The Little Pilgrim. 
 
 Will you sit by me, 
 Seeing that pilgrims at this inn we be? 
 
 Steadfast 
 
 (clasping the hand that The Little Pilgrim extends 
 
 to him). 
 Although I know you not, I like you well. 
 My name is Steadfast. 
 
 [After The Little Pilgrim and Steadfast meet, 
 Dame Decision exits left. 
 
 The Little Pilgrim 
 (gazing at him). 
 
 So thine eyes do» tell ! ' 
 [They sit at opposite sides of the table. 
 To seek the City of the King, I go. 
 
 Steadfast. 
 Then I will fare with you, come weal or woe, 
 And so will all my friends who now draw nigh, 
 Knowledge and Joyousness and Honesty. 
 
A LITTLE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 113 
 
 The Little Pilgrim. 
 Lo! By the doorway I see some one stand. 
 
 Steadfast. 
 'Tis Knowledge with a script and staff in hand. 
 
 Knowledge 
 
 (entering). 
 Pilgrim, much good I wish you. 
 
 The Little Pilgrim 
 
 (bowing). 
 
 Grammercy! 
 And will you tell us tales of land and sea 
 As on we journey? Give us counsel sage? 
 
 Knowledge 
 (crossing to table at left). 
 Vea, to the ending of your pilgrimage. 
 
 Courage 
 
 (entering). 
 A blithe good morrow to you, one and all! 
 
 Knowledge. 
 'Tis Master Courage! 
 
 Steadfast. 
 
 Now if aught befall 
 We shall be valiant. 
 
114 A LITTLE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 Courage 
 (to Pilgrim). 
 When you are dismayed 
 Take up this broadsword. It will be your aid. 
 
 [All seat themselves at table, left. 
 
 The Little Pilgrim. 
 Courage, I thank you. 
 
 [Faint music heard off. 
 
 Steadfast. 
 
 Hist! Dost thou not hear 
 Sweet strains of music? Joyousness draws near. 
 
 Joyousness 
 (entering). 
 Comrades, a thousand greetings! 
 
 Steadfast. 
 
 Now shall we 
 Set out upon our way right merrily 
 Since thou art with u% 
 
 Joyousness 
 (joining them). 
 
 It will be my part 
 To bring great gladness unto every heart. 
 
 [They fill flagons, and take bread from their 
 wallets. Enter Falsepride, who goes to 
 
A LITTLE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 115 
 
 table, right. A moment later Selfishness 
 enters and goes to same. 
 
 The Little Pilgrim 
 (dazzled). 
 Look now who enters in a splendid dress ! 
 
 Joyousness. 
 'Tis Falsepride, followed close by Selfishness. 
 
 The Little Pilgrim. 
 Will they not come? Are they not friends of thine? 
 
 Joyousness. 
 
 Nay, Pilgrim, they were never friends of mine, 
 And whoso chooseth with them to remain 
 Must say farewell to us and all our train. 
 
 [Enter Boastfulness. 
 See! Boastfulness now joins them. 
 
 The Little Pilgrim 
 (plainly interested in the newcomers). 
 
 With an air 
 More valiant than doth even Courage wear. 
 
 Knowledge 
 (gravely). 
 If you would spurn the false and choose the true 
 Judge not by what folk seem, but what they do! 
 
 [The newcomers at the table laugh and talk in 
 
n6 A LITTLE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 dumb show. They are presently joined by 
 Faintheart. 
 
 Steadfast 
 
 (to Pilgrim). 
 
 Now comes that trembling wight named Faint-of- 
 
 Heart 
 Whose very shadow makes him shrink and start. 
 
 Honesty 
 (without). 
 Wares ho! Wares ho! 
 
 The Little Pilgrim 
 (excited). 
 Dost thou not hear a shout? 
 
 Courage. 
 Mayhap some merchant man is there without. 
 Honesty 
 (appearing in doorway). 
 
 Wares ho! 
 
 All 
 
 (rising), 
 A peddler! 
 
 Honesty 
 (coming forward, center). 
 
 Honesty's my name, 
 
A LITTLE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 117 
 
 [Holds up gems richly set in gold. 
 And these fair jewels, glancing like a flame, 
 Are Love and Kindliness. 
 
 All 
 (delighted, entranced at sparkle). 
 Ah! 
 
 Honesty. 
 
 Who will buy? 
 [General interest. They crowd round Hon- 
 esty. 
 
 Selfishness 
 
 (shouldering forward). 
 Friends, give me room. / wish the gems to try! 
 
 Honesty 
 
 (with a wise smile). 
 Nay, gently, Selfishness, release your hold, 
 For see, your touch doth tarnish all the gold ! 
 
 [Tosses gems to Joyousness, 
 
 Falsepride 
 (taking looking-glass from pack). 
 I prithee, sell this mirror unto me. 
 
 Honesty 
 (shaking his head). 
 It is the mirror of Humility. 
 
Ii8 A LITTLE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 You cannot purchase it, Falsepride, alas! 
 
 For you have looked too long in Self-Love's glass. 
 
 BOASTFULNESS 
 
 (sucking his finger with a cry). 
 
 Good lack! 
 
 Honesty 
 
 (amused). 
 
 What ! Boastfulness, hath felt the prick 
 Of Truth's sharp needle, reaching to your quick? 
 
 [The vices withdraw to their former position 
 near table, right, while Honesty does a 
 thriving trade with the virtues, left, Pilgrim 
 hesitates, center. 
 
 Falsepride 
 (going to him, winningly). 
 Pilgrim, will you not join us? 
 
 The Little Pilgrim 
 
 (somewhat flattered). 
 
 Nay, Falsepride, 
 For I have sworn with Steadfast to abide. 
 
 Boastfulness 
 (swaggering up). 
 And who is he that thou shouldst promise so? 
 
A LITTLE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 119 
 
 Falsepride 
 
 (sneering). 
 Will you with peddlers and with strollers go? 
 
 (cajolingly) 
 You, who are wise and brave — 
 
 The Little Pilgrim 
 (drawn). 
 
 Her words are sweet f, 
 
 Faintheart. 
 Tarry with us! 
 
 Falsepride. 
 
 Yea, stay, I do entreat. 
 
 The Little Pilgrim 
 
 (turning, sees his late comrades putting on their cloaks 
 for departure). 
 
 What! Courage, will you go, and Knowledge, toe? 
 
 Courage 
 
 (leaving with Knowledge). 
 
 Aye, Pilgrim, for our way we must pursue 
 To the King's City. 
 
 [Exit Courage and Knowledge. 
 
 The Little Pilgrim. 
 
 Joy, will you begone? 
 
120 A LITTLE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 JOYOUSNESS. 
 
 Aye, for when Courage leads, I follow on 
 With Peddler Honesty. 
 
 [Exit Joyousness and Honesty. 
 
 Steadfast 
 (pausing). 
 
 Bethink you, friend, 
 You said you would go with me to the end. 
 
 Falsepride 
 (plucking at Pilgrim's sleeve). 
 Nay, but you are too fine for such as they! 
 
 Faintheart 
 (over Pilgrim's shoulder). 
 Rough is the road they tread, and long the way! 
 
 Steadfast 
 (sturdily). 
 But straight and sure. 
 
 BOASTFULNESS. 
 
 Heed not the tales they tell. 
 
 Steadfast 
 (sorrowfully). 
 Then farewell, Pilgrim. 
 
 [Exit Steadfast. 
 
A LITTLE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 121 
 
 The Little Pilgrim. 
 
 Steadfast, fare thee well! 
 Heavy my heart feels, now that he is sped. 
 
 [Goes slowly to table at right and seats himself. 
 Anger enters suddenly and lays fierce hands 
 - on Pilgrim's shoulders. 
 
 Anger. 
 Wilt thou usurp my place? The table's head? 
 
 The Little Pilgrim 
 (startled). 
 I knew not 'twas thy place to which I came! 
 
 Anger 
 (loudly). 
 Peace, lest I smite thee! Anger is my name! 
 
 The Little Pilgrim 
 (trembling). 
 
 Alas, the friends I did but now forswear 
 
 Were kind and gentle, and their speech was fair! 
 
 Falsepride 
 
 (rising). \ 
 
 Come, comrades, we have supped and drunk our fill 
 Let us begone! 
 
 [All rise, don cloaks, etc. 
 
122 A LITTLE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 Faintheart. 
 Tarry a little still. 
 
 The Little Pilgrim 
 (radiantly). 
 Now set we forth upon our journeying 
 At last, to seek the City of the King! 
 
 Selfishness. 
 
 " The City of the King " ? What words are these? 
 I take whatever path doth me most please. 
 
 Faintheart. 
 To me the easiest way doth seem the best. 
 The Little Pilgrim 
 
 (bewildered). 
 Will none of ye go with me on my quest? 
 
 (passionately) 
 Why, but ye promised the same road to take! 
 
 Falsepride. 
 Promises, Pilgrim, that were made to break. 
 
 The Little Pilgrim 
 (beseeching). 
 
 Faintheart ! 
 
 Faintheart. 
 
 Nay, Pilgrim, plead not thus with me. 
 I go with them. I dare not go with thee. 
 
A LITTLE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 The Little Pilgrim 
 
 (still more urgently). 
 Boastfulness ! 
 
 BOASTFULNESS. 
 
 Nay, I will not! 
 
 123 
 
 The Little Pilgrim. 
 
 You did prate 
 
 Of bravery. 
 
 Boastfulness. 
 
 Aye, but the hour grows late. 
 With darkling shadows all the way is sown. 
 Night comes. 
 
 The Little Pilgrim 
 
 (terrified). 
 You will not leave me here alone? 
 
 Falsepride 
 (sharply). 
 Yea, if you come not with us. Pilgrim, choose! 
 
 The Little Pilgrim 
 (to himself). 
 
 The dark . . . alone ... I fear my way to lose! 
 What was it Courage said — " When sore dismayed 
 
 [Moves towards table, left. 
 Take up this broadsword — it will be your aid ! " 
 
124 A LITTLE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 Anger. 
 Enough! Such dallying doth make me rage. 
 The Little Pilgrim 
 
 (wheeling suddenly, sword held high, stands center, 
 
 eyes uplifted). 
 I fear thee not! I choose my Pilgrimage! 
 
 Falsepride 
 (in a low voice). 
 Let us be gone! 
 
 [They vanish almost instantly 
 
 The Little Pilgrim 
 
 (turning and perceiving they have gone out door in 
 background). 
 So swiftly have they left! 
 Of friend and foe alike I am bereft. 
 I'll call the inn-wife, (raises voice) Dame Decision ! All 
 Is quiet and she does not heed my call. 
 
 (calls again) 
 Good Dame! 'Tis of no use. I must prepare 
 To rest me here, or on the way to fare. 
 
 [Crosses to table right, and sits down. 
 Oh, by my bitter folly now I know 
 That that which Knowledge said was surely so. 
 If one would choose between the false and true 
 Choose not by what folk seem, but what they do. 
 Knowledge and Courage and Steadfast were mine, 
 These I forsook for Falsepride's raiment fine, 
 
A LITTLE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 125 
 
 For Faintheart's flattery, Selfishness' greed, 
 And they forsook me in ray utmost need. 
 Oh, gentle Steadfast, thou who wert so true, 
 I lost my heart's best friend in losing you! 
 
 [Bows head on arms. 
 Steadfast 
 
 (who has entered softly, steals up to him and lays 
 
 hand on his shoulder). 
 Nay, did you think so far from you I'd wend, 
 I, who had promised you to be your friend? 
 
 The Little Pilgrim 
 (much moved). 
 Ye did return! 
 
 Steadfast. 
 Aye, for my heart did ache 
 To leave you friendless. 
 
 The Little Pilgrim 
 (with shame). 
 
 I did you forsake, 
 And ye forgive it! 
 
 Steadfast 
 (smiling). 
 
 'Tis a little thing 
 When comrades seek the City of the King. 
 Here comes the inn-wife. 
 
 [Enter Dame Decision, left. 
 
 Have you brought a light? 
 
126 A LITTLE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 Dame Decision 
 (giving lantern to Pilgrim). 
 The Lantern of Discernment, shining bright 
 To guide your footsteps. 
 
 The Little Pilgrim 
 (taking it). 
 
 Much I thank you, Dame. 
 
 Dame Decision 
 (to Pilgrim). 
 
 Take up your staff. Fail not to tend the flame (indi- 
 cates lantern). 
 
 [The music of Joyousness is heard without. 
 Now speed you forth, with comrades leal to dwell. 
 
 [Exit Pilgrim and Steadfast. Dame Decision 
 stands at door watching them. 
 They take the path together. All is well! 
 
 Curtain 
 
EPILOGUE 
 
 Spoken by Dame Decision 
 
 Ye who have listened to our play, 
 
 Beheld the Pilgrim on his way 
 
 And seen, how by Discernment's light 
 
 He learned at length to choose the right, 
 
 Mock not his stumbling. Vanity 
 
 Hath beguiled stronger ones than he. 
 
 Pilgrims along the selfsame road 
 
 Are we, with wallet, staff, or load. 
 
 His pitfalls are our own. Let us beware 
 
 Selfish enticements, Falsepride's silken snare. 
 
 Thus, choose ye wisely at Decision's Inn 
 
 That in the end ye happiness may win. 
 
 Now, friends, good-night and pleasant dreams to ye, 
 
 And thanks for your full gentle courtesy. 
 
 127 
 
COSTUMES 
 
 Dame Decision: Blue-gray robe. White cap and 
 
 Puritan kerchief. 
 Pilgrim : Trunk hose and suit of russet, slashed with 
 
 pale blue. Carries a staff. The suits of all the 
 
 Pilgrims are after the same manner of the pictures 
 
 in Bunyan's " Pilgrim's Progress." 
 Steadfast: Old rose suit and hose. 
 Knowledge: Deep purple robe falling in folds like 
 
 an abbess's. Purple cloak. 
 Courage: Pale gray suit and hose. Breastplate and 
 
 helmet of silver: scarlet plume in helmet. Sword 
 
 of tempered steel at waist. 
 Joyousness: White robe spangled in gold. Pale 
 
 green cloak. 
 Falsepride: Brocaded robe of many colors. Much 
 
 jewelry. Rose colored cloak. 
 Selfishness: Dress of black. Black cloak. Girdle 
 
 of dark green. 
 Boastfulness: Dull green suit and hose, slashed with 
 
 black. Brass helmet and breastplate. 
 Faintheart: Suit and hose half of one color and half 
 
 of another — preferably pale blue and black. 
 Anger: Scarlet suit, and scarlet hose. 
 Honesty: Brown suit slashed with white. Brown 
 
 hose. Peddler's pack. 
 
 128 
 
A PAGEANT OF HOURS 
 
CHARACTERS 
 
 The Child 
 
 The Child's Attendant 
 
 First Hour (Dawn) 
 
 Second Hour (Sunrise) 
 
 Third Hour 
 
 Fourth Hour 
 
 Fifth Hour 
 
 Sixth Hour (Noon) 
 
 Seventh Hour 
 
 Eighth Hour 
 
 Ninth Hour 
 
 Tenth Hour (Sunset) 
 
 Eleventh Hour (Twilight) 
 
 Twelfth Hour (Night) 
 
 ^Morning Hours 
 
 Afternoon Hours 
 
A PAGEANT OF HOURS 
 
 (For Children) 
 
 Time: Early June or late May. 
 
 Scene: A greensward bound by trees and flowers. 
 In the left background a half-ruined, moss-grown 
 shrine on which stands an hour-glass. The pageant 
 begins by the First Hour in gray and rosy robes enter- 
 ing from the right just as the Child breaks through 
 from the background, wondering and hesitating. They 
 face each other for a moment in startled silence, and 
 after this throughout all the pageant the Child stands 
 by the shrine, looking with shy wonder at the Hours 
 as they come and go. The First Hour coming for- 
 ward speaks. 
 
 First Hour 
 
 (winningly). 
 
 Little mortal, who art thou, 
 With thy dreams still on thy brow? 
 Hast thou left thy sleep to find 
 Secrets of the morning wind? 
 
 The Child. 
 
 While 'twas dark I came awake — 
 Gray with vapor was the lake, 
 131 
 
132 A PAGEANT OF HOURS 
 
 All the world lay hushed and still, 
 Dark the garden and the hill. 
 While the flowers about me slept 
 Through the dewy grass I crept, 
 Not a single wing went by — 
 Yet I came, I know not why, 
 For this place so cool and green 
 Ne'er before my eyes have seen. 
 
 First Hour. 
 
 Hidden well by trees and flowers 
 'Tis the Garden of the Hours! 
 Stay, and thou shalt see them pass 
 Here before thee o'er the grass. 
 Hours of blue and gold they be, 
 Each one bringing gifts to thee. 
 Listen well and thou shalt know 
 As the fleet hours come and go 
 How to prize the gifts they bear, 
 For they bring thee all things fair. 
 I am Dawn. To thee I bring 
 Drowsy bird notes, brush of wing, 
 Wind that shivers through the trees 
 And a thousand mysteries — 
 Things half-murmured by the brooks, 
 Deeper than the lore of books, 
 Whiter than the morning star 
 Fading where my banners are. 
 Breaking East on land and sea — 
 These the gifts I bring to thee ! 
 
A PAGEANT OF HOURS 133 
 
 [Exit First Hour, left. The Child stands by 
 ruined shrine in background as the other 
 Hours defile before it. As soon as one Hour 
 exits another Hour appears upon the scene. 
 As the First Hour goes, the Second Hour 
 enters, clad in rosy robes. 
 
 Second Hour 
 
 The end of the dark — the song of the lark — 
 
 These do I bring thee! The sun's gold I fling thee! 
 
 I slip through each portal, I glint in thine eyes 
 
 Crying " Up, little mortal, the day's in the skies, 
 
 And there's much to be done ere the setting of sun, 
 
 So hasten ! O, hasten ! How swift the hours run ! " 
 
 I' bring thee the perfumes of wood and of field, 
 
 All the opening flowers yield, 
 
 And warm scents from each furrow 
 
 Where shy creatures burrow, 
 
 All the stir and the whir of a million of wings, 
 
 All the joy sunrise brings. 
 
 The gossamer laces that lie at thy feet, 
 
 The hunger that sweetens the bread that ye eat 
 
 Making its savor e'en fit for a king — 
 
 These are the gifts that I hasten to bring. 
 
 [Exit Second Hour, 
 Third Hour 
 (entering, robed in cloud-white with touches of gold). 
 
 Heed me! I am swift to pass 
 As a shadow o'er the grass. 
 
n34 A PAGEANT OF HOURS 
 
 All my moments cherish well, 
 Each one holds a golden spell. 
 I, the task hour, bring to thee 
 Golden Opportunity. 
 
 [Exit Third Hour. 
 Fourth Hour 
 
 (entering, clad in cloud-white and sky blue). 
 Soft I come and soft I go, 
 Ere I pass, O mortal, know 
 That I give thee power to look 
 Wisely in thy lesson book. 
 Time gone by and Time to be, 
 Heed the gift I bring to thee! 
 
 [Exit Fourth Hour. 
 Fifth Hour 
 (entering, clad in robes of cloud-white with draperies 
 of deep sky). 
 Me behold, a working hour, 
 Full of promise and of power, 
 Let me not slip idle by, 
 For I bring thee guerdon high. 
 Building well ye build with me 
 For the days that are to be. 
 
 [Exit Fifth Hour. 
 Noon 
 
 (entering with clash of cymbals, and wearing a robe 
 of cloth of gold). 
 I am Noon! 
 I bring the tune 
 
A PAGEANT OF HOURS 135 
 
 Of a thousand droning bees 
 Carried faintly by the breeze, 
 Sweet and drowsy harmonies, 
 And the endless croon and rune 
 Of the myriad things that pass 
 Through the forests of the grass- 
 Till my heat doth hush and blur 
 All the murmur and the stir; 
 And the bird with tawny throat 
 Pauses on a half-sung note. 
 Would you know what wisdom is 
 Hearken to my silences. 
 Power to listen and to see — 
 These the gifts I bring to thee. 
 Hill and meadow, wood and dune 
 Hold my secrets. I am Noon! 
 [Exit Noon with another clap of cymbals. 
 
 Seventh Hour 
 (entering, clad in robe of deepest sky blue). 
 I am the first of the afternoon hours, 
 Dappled with sunshine and scented with flowers. 
 Learn with me, turn with me page after page: 
 Endless my bounty and splendid my wage. 
 
 [Exit Seventh Hour. 
 
 Eighth Hour 
 (entering, clad in robes of pale sky blue and white). 
 Long are my moments, yet golden each one, 
 Sweet as the tinkle of slow brooks they run. 
 
136 A PAGEANT OF HOURS 
 
 Measure me, treasure me, let me not go 
 Ere I have yielded thee all thou shouldst know! 
 
 [Exit Eighth Hour. 
 
 Ninth Hour 
 
 (entering, robed in blue, so pale that it is almost 
 white). 
 Dust of the roadway, fragrance of clover, 
 Come I to tell thee task hours are over. 
 Stray with me, play with me, shadow and sun 
 Are thine for the asking! Task hours are done! 
 
 [Exit Ninth Hour. 
 
 Tenth Hour 
 (entering, violet robed, with touches of gold). 
 I bring the robin's sunset note — 
 Echoes that through the clear air float. 
 The homing sounds of beast and bird, 
 Of shy brown wren and lowing herd; 
 While in the Western sky I set 
 Like a flaming parapet 
 Clouds of rose and violet. 
 Gaze at them and they shall seem 
 Like wondrous countries of a dream. 
 Golden crags and boulders piled 
 By some sea-coast strange and wild, 
 Or gardens rosy with new flowers, 
 Or cities with a hundred towers, 
 Or only flocks with fleece of gold 
 Crossing to their azure fold. 
 
A PAGEANT OF HOURS 137 
 
 Power to fashion dreamily 
 
 Is the gift I bring to thee. 
 
 [Exit Tenth Hour. Eleventh Hour enters 
 very slow and stately, with finger on lip, 
 wearing trailing gray robe and silver sandals. 
 
 Eleventh Hour. 
 
 Soft, with nnger on my lip, 
 Through sunset's closing gate I slip, 
 
 Mystic, slow. 
 From the marshes comes a chir, 
 And from night bird's nests a stir 
 
 As I go, 
 And my trailing garments fold 
 Like a silvery mist is rolled, 
 
 Faint and gray; 
 And I close the starry eyes 
 Of each flower that near me lies 
 
 As I stray. 
 Blurring shadows, falling dew, 
 Scents that daylight never knew . . . 
 
 Fern and grass . . . 
 Hushed song and folded wing! 
 Take the wonder that I bring 
 
 Ere I pass. 
 
 [Exit Eleventh Hour. The Twelfth Hour 
 enters with round golden moon held high 
 in hand. The Child drowses by the ruined 
 shrine. 
 
138 A PAGEANT OF HOURS 
 
 Twelfth Hour 
 (robed in black with touches of gold), 
 
 I, the night hour, solemn, deep, • 
 
 Bring to thee the gift of sleep, 
 
 And if well thy hours were spent, 
 
 To that gift I add content, 
 
 And the fairest dreams there are, 
 
 Each one shining as a star! • 
 
 While within the sky above 
 
 High I set my lamp of love (raises moon) 
 
 There to shine till raise of sun, 
 
 Till thy dream-voyage be done. 
 
 Little mortal rest thee well, 
 
 Thou hast learned the wondrous spell 
 
 That the hours do weave for thee 
 
 Coming, going, endlessly. 
 
 Learned what all their moments make, 
 
 Learned their gifts to prize and take. 
 
 Disdain us and we master thee, 
 
 Command us and thy slaves we be. 
 
 Dream, then, for naught shall come nigh, 
 
 Dream till dawn be in the sky! 
 
 I, the night hour, solemn, deep, 
 - Give to thee the gift of sleep. 
 
 [Child drowses. Twelfth Hour with moon 
 held high stands guard at left. The Child's 
 Attendant enters, sees Child, and runs to 
 the place where Child is drowsing, without 
 ever once seeing the Twelfth Hour who 
 stands silent. 
 
A PAGEANT OF HOURS 139 
 
 The Child's Attendant 
 (tenderly stern). 
 Where hast thou been? All day I sought for thee. 
 Yet when I called thou didst not answer me. 
 
 The Child 
 
 (rising and leaning against her very sleepily as they 
 
 go to exit, left). 
 I heard thee not. 
 
 The Child's Attendant. 
 
 I searched the woods, the bowers, 
 The fields, — while thou 
 
 The Child 
 (dreamily, with face uplifted). 
 
 I learned to know — the Hours! 
 
 [The Child and the Child's Attendant exit 
 
 left, slowly, while the Twelfth Hour passes 
 
 after their exit to the right. The stage is 
 
 thus left empty and the play ends. 
 
COSTUMES 
 
 All the costumes are Grecian, soft and flowing. As 
 all the children taking part in the pageant are girls 
 their robes are along the lines of small goddesses. 
 The Child: Little Greek robe of white, sandals, 
 
 chaplet of green leaves on head. 
 The Child's Attendant: Greek robe of pale green. 
 
 Green bands across hair. 
 The First Hour (Dawn) : Pale gray robe over robe 
 
 of faint pink. Pink sandals. 
 Second Hour (Sunrise) : Robe of deepest pink, with 
 
 draperies of pink gauze. Golden fillet on hair. 
 Third Hour: Pure cloud white robe, with draperies 
 
 of gold tissue. 
 Fourth Hour: White robe with draperies of sky 
 
 blue. 
 Fifth Hour: White robe with trailing draperies of 
 
 deep sky blue. 
 Sixth Hour (Noon): Robe of cloth of gold (or of 
 
 sunlight yellow) golden sandals, and golden fillet 
 
 across hair. Carries brass cymbals in hand. 
 Seventh Hour: Robe of deepest sky blue. 
 Eighth Hour: Robe of paler sky blue with draperies 
 
 of white gauze, cloud-like. 
 Ninth Hour: Robe of very pale blue — almost white. 
 140 
 
COSTUMES 141 
 
 White gauze faintly spangled with gold drifting 
 
 about the robe like a cloud fleece. Wreath of 
 
 white clover on hair. 
 Tenth Hour: Violet robe. Draperies of gold tissue 
 
 — the colors of sunset. 
 Eleventh Hour (Twilight) : Deep gray robe, longer 
 
 and more trailing than any of the others. Silver 
 
 sandals. Gray gauze draperies with touches of 
 
 silver glinting through. 
 Twelfth Hour (Night) : Black robe spangled with 
 
 silver and dull gold. Black sandals. Fillet of 
 
 stars. Carries large round golden disk to represent 
 
 the full moon. 
 The pageant should be done in a stately fashion, the 
 ;mall figures moving with measured step across the 
 grass. With a stage covered with green baize and 
 potted plants it is perfectly possible to give the play 
 an indoor production. For a more elaborate produc- 
 tion indoors colored lights may be used — rosy for the 
 dawn, strong golden light for noon, violet for the 
 dusk, etc., down to the darkness and pale moonlight 
 of the ending. For schoolroom use the play may be 
 given either with the fanciful costumes, or with every- 
 day ones. If the former way is desired the robes can 
 be easily and simply fashioned of cheesecloth ; or, lack- 
 ing these, to the dress of everyday may be added crown 
 and stars for each of the Hours with the symbolical 
 colors — gold, silver, blue, white, gray, etc. 
 
ON CHRISTMAS EVE 
 
CHARACTERS 
 
 The Little Girl 
 
 Wendy 
 
 Crusoe 
 
 Alice 
 
 Hansel 
 
 Gretel 
 
 The Traveler from Bagdad 
 
 The Boy from the Back of the North Wind 
 
 The Hush-a-bye Lady 
 
 The Little Girl's Mother 
 
 Santa Claus 
 
DRAMATIC DIRECTIONS 
 
 The window which the play calls for can be made 
 by building a frame of laths 3x3, and stretching across 
 it dark brown cambric. Cut a square in the cambric 
 the size of a window. Across the upper part of this 
 fasten a curtain on a draw string — fixed so it can be 
 drawn aside. On the side of the window which the 
 audience does not see place a chair on which Wendy 
 can stand. Wendy cam then step from one to the 
 other through the window quite easily, and give the 
 effect of flying. If this cannot be done, Wendy can, 
 of course, knock at the door, and enter as the other 
 characters do. The fireplace should be made of dry- 
 goods boxes as described in the preceding plays, and 
 give ample space for the entrance of Santa Claus. The 
 Little Girl wears her usual everyday clothes. Direc- 
 tions for more elaborate costumes follow; but if little 
 trouble and schoolroom simplicity is desired they can 
 be gotten up most easily. The boy who plays Crusoe 
 can borrow fur scarfs and have them hanging about his 
 shoulders and waist. Out of brown cambric he can 
 make such a belt and pouch pocket as Crusoe wore. 
 Alice should wear a dainty little white Swiss apron, 
 and a pretty cloak. Gretel should have a cap and 
 apron to which is basted a deep red border. HanseJ 
 i45 
 
i 4 6 . DRAMATIC DIRECTIONS 
 
 a red cap and red muffler. Bagdad Traveler should 
 wear a turban of some gay stuff wound round his 
 head. Let him borrow a Kimona, and wear it as a 
 flowing East Indian robe — only be sure that it is not 
 a Japanese Kimona — it should be of a solid color, or 
 at least of some pattern that does not too much suggest 
 the flowery kingdom. Let him borrow, too, if pos- 
 sible, a pair of Turkish slippers with turned up toes. 
 The boy from the Back of the North Wind should 
 wear his overcoat, fur cap, and ear muffs. The Hush- 
 A-Bye Lady a crown of tissue paper or artificial pop- 
 pies, and a white drapery of cheese-cloth or even a 
 sheet — so it has flowing lines. For Santa a bath robe 
 with a cord, plumply stuffed but, and a ruddy mask 
 with its white beard. A red cap on head. Directions 
 for a more elaborate production follow. 
 
ON CHRISTMAS EVE 
 
 The scene is a bare living room with a few chairs. 
 At the left a fireplace with scant embers glowing in it. 
 Above it a shelf with a couple of tin candlesticks con- 
 taining unlighted candles. From the mantelshelf 
 hangs a stocking. In the background, towards the 
 left, a window curtained in cheap flowered cambric. 
 Through it is caught a glimpse of a crisp and snowy 
 night outside. 
 
 In the right background a door opening on the out- 
 side. 
 
 Against the right wall a plain deal table. 
 
 Near the center of the room a battered lounge with 
 an old shawl neatly folded and lying across its foot. 
 
 At the rise of the curtain the Little Girl is lying 
 on the floor near the hearthstone, her head propped 
 on her hand, a book spread out before her. After a 
 'econd she closes the book and rubs her eyes. 
 
 The Little Girl. 
 
 r 
 
 The fire's growing so dim I can't see to read any 
 longer, and Mother won't be home for hours yet. I 
 daren't light the candles for candles cost so much and 
 there's no money to pay for ttiem; so all I can do is 
 to sir hy the fire and think. (Wind wails without.) 
 U7 
 
148 ON CHRISTMAS EVE 
 
 There's the wind, sighing and singing to keep me 
 company on Christmas Eve. When it blows like that 
 it always seems as i"f it had something it wanted to 
 tell me about far off countries that I've never seen, 
 about streets with white palaces, like the Arabian 
 Nights, and islands with coral shores, and palm trees 
 thick as feather dusters. (Dreamily.) And then — the 
 wonderful people — Crusoe and Aladdin and the Snow 
 Queen and Peter Pan and Wendy — Especially Wendy! 
 I've loved them for so long, and thought about them 
 so much — Oh, how I wish that I might see them! 
 (Vehemently.) Oh, how I wish that they were real, 
 and that they would come to me in any way they could ! 
 (A rasping sound at the window without.) Why, 
 what's that? (Listens.) Nothing! Only the wind 
 playing tricks in the chimney. (Another rasp.) That's 
 more than the wind. ^-That's some one trying to get in. 
 (Timidly.) I — I believe I'm half afraid — and yet — 
 
 and yet (Courageously.) How silly of me! It 
 
 may be only a dead branch tapping at the pane, or a 
 bit of icicle that has snapped and fallen. (Goes to 
 window.) Of course I'll open it and see ! (She stands 
 by window. Business of opening it. A great gust of 
 wind, and Wendy tumbles over the sill, breathless, with 
 her broom in her hand.) 
 
 The Little Girl 
 (half amazed, half rapturous). 
 
 W-h-y — it's some one flying on a broomstick! Oh, 
 my wish! It has come true! It has come true! 
 
ON CHRISTMAS EVE 149 
 
 Wendy 
 
 (pausing to shake off snow). 
 Of course it's come true! But I thought I should 
 never make you hear me. I don't know what I should 
 have done, if you hadn't opened the window. You 
 see, its such a blustery night that for a moment I com- 
 pletely lost my bearings. I've just been to take a 
 Christmas dinner to Peter Pan, and see that he has a 
 snug fire built in his little house in the tree tops. 
 
 The Little Girl. 
 
 Peter Pan! Why, you must be Wendy! Oh, 
 Wendy, I was just wishing you were real. 
 
 Wendy 
 (stoutly). 
 
 Real! Why, of course I'm real! I come from the 
 Country of Imagination, and that's the realest place 
 there is, anywhere! You know that the things you 
 sometimes think unreal are often the realest things 
 there are. 
 
 The Little Girl. 
 
 But — Wendy — tell me. How did you know I 
 wanted you? 
 
 Wendy 
 
 (matter-of-factly) . 
 Because I met a wish flying through the air. 
 
150 ON CHRISTMAS EVE 
 
 The Little Girl 
 (utterly dumfounded). 
 A wish — flying through the air! 
 
 Wendy. 
 
 Why, yes. Dear me, haven't you ever heard, 
 haven't you ever learned that wishes are the most 
 wonderful messengers there are? And that if you 
 wish for a thing long enough and hard enough it 
 comes true at last! That is, if you work for it, too! 
 
 The Little Girl 
 (incredulously). 
 But I haven't worked for this ! 
 
 Wendy. 
 
 Oh, yes, you have. In hundreds and hundreds of 
 ways. You had to learn to read before you could get 
 acquainted with us at all — and you tried very hard to 
 become acquainted with us, didn't you ! And then you 
 sent a wish. Oh, it's a wonderful thing to see the 
 wishes flying! 
 
 The Little Girl 
 
 (evincing great interest). 
 
 Do they all look alike? 
 
 Wendy. 
 
 Good gracious, no! They're as different as people 
 are. Ugly wishes are dark, like bats; but beautiful 
 
OX CHRISTMAS EVE 151 
 
 wishes are like birds, or flying flowers, or stars on their 
 way through the dark. 
 
 The Little Girl. 
 
 But the way is so long — I should think they'd get 
 broken or lost! 
 
 Wendy. 
 
 Oh, no. They are the strongest things there are. 
 At least, some of them. Weak and wobbly wishes 
 never go far. They just flutter and fall and drop to 
 the ground, and I never count them as truly wishes at 
 all. (Takes up her broom.) 
 
 The Little Girl 
 (alarmed). 
 
 Dear Wendy — you're not going? I wanted you so 
 much to stay. It's Christmas Eve and I'm so lonely! 
 
 Wendy 
 
 (incredulously). 
 Lonely! On Christmas Eve! 
 
 The Little Girl. 
 
 You see my mother hasn't come home from work 
 yet, and I'm waiting for her. 
 
 Wendy. 
 
 What time does she generally arrive? 
 
152 ON CHRISTMAS EVE 
 
 The Little Girl. 
 
 Six o'clock week days, but on holidays not till eleven. 
 
 Wendy 
 
 (slowly). 
 
 Eleven ! (Suddenly brightening.) Why, that would 
 give us plenty of time! 
 
 The Little Girl. 
 Time? 
 
 Wendy. 
 For a party! 
 
 [Wendy crosses to fire and puts a little more 
 coal on; warms her hands a moment, and 
 then begins to fasten most securely her hood 
 and flying cape, meantime carrying on an 
 animated conversation with the Little Girl. 
 
 A party? 
 
 The Little Girl 
 (bewildered). 
 
 Wendy. 
 
 Don't you know that people always have parties on 
 Christmas Eve? 
 
 The Little Girl 
 (wistfully). 
 I've never had one. But perhaps that's because I 
 don't know any people to invite. Yet even if I did 
 there's nothing here to eat but bread and potatoes. 
 
ON CHRISTMAS EVE 153 
 
 Wendy 
 (indignantly). 
 Eat! It's only stupid people who go to parties to 
 eat. And as for guests — there are those who are 
 always ready to make happy the hours of the very 
 loneliest of children. What would you say to Robin* 
 son Crusoe and Alice-in-Wonderland and 
 
 The Little Girl. 
 Oh, Wendy! 
 
 Wendy 
 
 (nodding). 
 I thought you'd only forgotten them! Now sit 
 down in that chair and wait for me till I come back. 
 (Takes up broom.) You can't imagine what con- 
 venient things broomsticks are once you've learned to 
 fly. (Goes to window.) 
 
 The Little Girl 
 (much mystified). 
 But where are you going? 
 
 Wendy 
 (laughingly, as she climbs out). 
 To deliver the invitations! 
 
 [Exit Wendy. 
 The Little Girl. 
 There she goes, flying over the tree-tops! Oh, I 
 wonder if it's all a dream, or if I'm really to have a 
 
154 ON CHRISTMAS EVE 
 
 party — if I'm really to see Robinson Crusoe and — (A 
 knock on the outside door.) What's that? (Another 
 knock.) It surely can't be Wendy back again ! (Runs 
 to door and opens it. Alice appears upon threshold.) 
 Why, Alice! 
 
 Alice 
 
 (entering). 
 I was just running home from Wonderland when I 
 met Wendy, and she directed me right to your door. 
 The March Hare and the Hatter wanted to come, too, 
 but I wouldn't let them. They always talk so much 
 that no one else can get a word in edgewise. 
 
 The Little Girl. 
 
 Won't you sit by the fire? I wish it was burning 
 brighter. 
 
 Alice 
 
 (seating herself comfortably). 
 Oh, I like it just as it is. It looks as it sometimes 
 does in our grate at home. (With a sigh of content.) 
 I'm very fond of the firelight country. 
 
 The Little Girl 
 
 (puzzled). 
 The Firelight Country 
 
 Alice. 
 
 Yes. Don't you know? But perhaps you've never 
 looked at a fire that way. When you've learned tff 
 
ON CHRISTMAS EVE 15$ 
 
 it's just like fairyland! There are black, black 
 dungeons and golden lakes and ruby towers and trees 
 with jewels hanging thick as fruit. Ah, one doesn't 
 have to travel to see wonders. One can have them 
 here at home. 
 
 [A knock at the outer door. 
 
 The Little Girl 
 (delightedly). 
 That must be the rest of the party beginning to 
 come. • 
 
 Alice. 
 
 I think it's Robinson Crusoe. I passed him on the 
 way. 
 
 The Little Girl 
 (opening door). 
 Good evening, Mr. Crusoe! 
 
 Crusoe 
 (entering, with a parrot in a cage). 
 Good evening, my dear little girl! Good evening, 
 (Vliss Alice. Wendy says that you are expecting me. 
 
 Alice 
 (rising). 
 Take this chair by the fire, Mr. Crusoe. How is 
 your man Friday? 
 
 Crusoe. 
 
 Friday is in excellent health, I thank you, Miss 
 
156 ON CHRISTMAS EVE 
 
 Alice! He's still on the island, but I'm bringing the 
 parrot with me. (Puts parrot on table, right, and 
 then goes to seat by fire. Alice and the Little Girl 
 join him.) 
 
 The Little Girl. 
 
 Please, Mr. Crusoe, won't you tell us a story? I'd 
 love to hear some more of your adventures. 
 
 Crusoe. 
 
 Adventures? Bless my heart! Well, let *ne see. 
 Once upon a time . . . (A knock on the door.) Once 
 upon a time when I ... (A louder knock.) 
 
 The Little Girl 
 (politely). 
 I believe that's another knock on the door! 
 
 Alice. 
 I'll open it. 
 
 The Little Girl. 
 
 Mercy, what a blast of cold air! 
 
 Alice. 
 
 I don't wonder. You see it's the Boy from the 
 back of the North Wind ! (He enters.) 
 
 The Little Girl. 
 What a long, long way you must have blown! 
 
ON CHRISTMAS EVE 157 
 
 The Boy 
 
 (breathlessly). 
 
 ' Wait just a minute! Don't close the door! There's 
 a tall dark man coming, wearing the strangest clothes. 
 
 The Little Girl 
 (estatically, after looking out the door). 
 It's the Traveler from Bagdad! 
 
 [ The Traveler from Bagdad enters and salaams 
 deeply a great number of times. The Little 
 Girl, not to be outdone by him in manners, 
 follows his example, bowing till she is quite 
 out of breath. He carries with him a huge 
 roll of carpet. 
 
 The Little Girl 
 
 (aside to Alice, as the Traveler ceases his salaams). 
 
 There! He's stopped at last! It must be dread- 
 fully tiring to meet with friends in Bagdad. 
 
 The Bagdad Traveler 
 
 (with another salaam). 
 
 Blessings be upon this house from the first hour of 
 the day until the twelfth. 
 
 The Little Girl 
 (indicating carpet). 
 Is that 
 
158 ON CHRISTMAS EVE 
 
 The Bagdad Traveler. 
 That's the magic carpet on which I travel. And as 
 I was floating over the roofs of Europe what should 
 I see but a boy and girl trudging along hand in hand. 
 At first I thought they might be the children of Sinbad 
 the Sailor — Sinbad's children are great rovers, you 
 know — they take after their father; but it turned out 
 they were two little folk named Hansel and Gretel, so 
 I asked them to come with me, and here they are! 
 (Unrolls his magic carpet, and Hansel and Gretel roll 
 out, chubby and merry looking.) 
 
 The Little Girl 
 (gazing at them). 
 
 What a darling little cap ! And what cunning little 
 shoes ! 
 
 Hansel. 
 
 At Christmas time Kriss Kringell puts presents in 
 our shoes instead of in our stockings! 
 
 Gretel. 
 Will you not have some of my candy? It is from 
 the Witch's house that we found in the wood. Ach! 
 It was such a house! All candy! Hansel, he is still 
 eating a piece of the door and this is a piece of the 
 roof! 
 
 [The various groups talk and gesticulate in 
 pantomime: Hansel and Gretel and the Lit- 
 tle Girl, center; Alice and the Boy by the 
 table. 
 
OX CHRISTMAS EVE 159 
 
 Crusoe 
 (to the Bagdad Traveler). 
 I am glad, sir, to meet such a distinguished fellow 
 traveler. What is the latest news from Aladdin and 
 the Caliph? (Sound of something brushing against 
 the window.) 
 
 The Little Girl 
 (eagerly). 
 That's Wendy back again ! (Opens the window as 
 before and Wendy enters.) 
 
 Wendy. 
 
 Peter Pan sent regrets. He was giving a party to 
 the fairies and couldn't come. Tinker Bell wouldn't 
 let him. 
 
 The Little Girl. 
 
 I'm sorry about Peter, but O Wendy, it's such a 
 beautiful party, and I'm having such a splendid time! 
 (Turns and perceives the Rock-a-Bye Lady, who has 
 entered unobserved.) . Look! there's another guest, 
 Wendy, and I didn't even hear her when she entered. 
 She slipped in as quietly as a snowflake. (Going for- 
 ward, half-shyly.) You're very beautiful, and I'm 
 glad you've come to my party, but I don't believe 1 
 know who you are. 
 
 The Hush-a-Bye Lady 
 
 (quite tenderly). 
 Don't you, my sweet? Ah, you should know, for 
 
i6o ON CHRISTMAS EVE 
 
 I've been coming to you every night for years and 
 years; summer and winter, week days and holidays. 
 (As she speaks she leads the Little Girl to the shabby 
 sofa and seats herself beside her.) 
 
 The Little Girl 
 (drowsily, her head against the Lady's shoulder). 
 About — what — time — do — you — usually — come? 
 
 The Hush-a-Bye Lady 
 (lullingly). 
 
 I come when the night wind wakes, and when the 
 
 little stars are lit like candles all across the sky. I 
 
 come when the nickering, creeping shadows say, " Day 
 
 is over, Day is over. Time for weary heads to rest." 
 
 [The Little Girl nods as the Lady speaks, and 
 
 finally sleeps. The Lady rises gently, letting 
 
 the Little Girl lie full length on the sofa, 
 
 and covers her with the worn shawl. Then 
 
 she stands a moment, face uplifted, and 
 
 finger on lip. All listen. Faint and then 
 
 nearer grow the bells of Santa Claus. A 
 
 rattling of hoofs overhead. Ruddy and 
 
 beaming he comes down the chimney. 
 
 Santa Claus. 
 Oho! What is this I see? Nobody warned me of 
 any party! Merry Christmas, everybody. The sea- 
 son's greetings to you, Mr. Crusoe. (Sees the Little 
 Girl fast asleep.) Fast asleep, is she? 
 
ON CHRISTMAS EVE 161 
 
 Wendy 
 (anxiously). 
 Yes, but there's her stocking. 
 
 Santa Claus 
 (chuckling with suppressed mirth). 
 
 Did you think I'd forget that? (He starts to 
 fill stocking and then pauses. Beckons.) Come here, 
 Wendy! (He whispers to Wendy. Her face shows 
 dawn of rapturous idea.) 
 
 Wendy. 
 
 He says we must bring her a Christmas tree. 
 
 Santa Claus. 
 
 Where's the Boy from the back of the North Wind ? 
 (Boy comes forward.) He's the one to fetch the tree. 
 He knows all about the pines and where the Christmas 
 firs grow, don't you? 
 
 The Boy. 
 
 Yes, sir. 
 
 Santa Claus. 
 
 Then off with you ! 
 
 Wendy 
 
 (beaming and clasping her hands). 
 Oh. Santa! 
 
i6 2 ON CHRISTMAS EVE 
 
 Santa Claus 
 
 (with upraised finger). 
 S-sh! 
 
 The Hush-a-Bye Lady 
 (smiling). 
 
 No fear of waking her. I've put her too soundly 
 asleep for that. 
 
 Santa Claus 
 (his eyes twinkling as he fills stocking). 
 
 Madam, I owe you a debt of gratitude. You and I 
 have been working in unison these many years, and it's 
 very seldom that you fail me. 
 
 The Boy 
 
 (entering with tree, assisted by Crusoe and Traveler). 
 Here it is, Santa. (They stand it over by the fire- 
 place.) 
 
 Santa Claus. 
 
 Bless my soul! It's a fine tree! Now, what shall 
 we trim it with? For I've already filled her stocking, 
 and you know, if I rob my pack it won't be fair to 
 the other boys and girls. 
 
 Crusoe 
 
 (delving into his pockets). 
 
 Here, sir, are some nuts and dates from my Desert 
 Island. 
 
ON CHRISTMAS EVE 163 
 
 Hansel. 
 
 And here is more candy from the candy house we 
 found in the wood. (Santa Claus takes gifts and 
 trims tree.) 
 
 Gretel 
 
 (eagerly). 
 
 You must take my candy, too. 
 
 The Bagdad Traveler 
 
 (taking off various chains and trinkets with which his 
 costume and turban are adorned). 
 
 These will remind her of the Arabian Nights. 
 
 Alice 
 
 (taking off her quaint little Lewis Carrol apron). 
 
 I am afraid all I can give is this apron. I'm ft, 
 sorry, for aprons aren't very interesting. But in the 
 pocket there's a little cake — a frosted cake from thf 
 March Hare's tea party. 
 
 The Boy. 
 And as nothing but ice grows at the back of the 
 North Wind, I'll have to contribute frost work. 
 
 [Gives white cotton batting sprinkled with glit- 
 tering dust. 
 
 Wendy. 
 
 Here are some candles I was taking to Peter Pan. 
 He won't miss them in the least. 
 
164 ON CHRISTMAS EVE 
 
 The Boy. 
 And here's a taper to light them with. 
 
 Santa Claus 
 (surprised). 
 A taper? 
 
 The Boy. 
 
 It's just a flame from one of the Northern Lights — 
 1 always have it with me. 
 
 The Hush-a-Bye Lady 
 
 (unfastening flowers from her girdle). 
 
 And here are some scarlet poppies, that will look 
 well next the green, and a star or two that fell from 
 the sky last summer. I see so many falling stars in 
 my journeying from dusk till dawn, and I always catch 
 them and use them for jewels in my hair. 
 
 Santa Claus 
 (plainly puzzled). 
 What will we put on the top of the tree? 
 
 The Hush-a-Bye Lady. 
 
 What would you say to a shimmering, shining 
 dream ? 
 
 Santa Claus. 
 (delighted). 
 The very thing! 
 
OX CHRISTMAS EVE 165 
 
 Wendy. 
 Now all's complete, I must be flying home again. 
 [Exit through window as formerly. General 
 bustle of departure. 
 
 Alice. 
 The Duchess will be expecting me by this time, and 
 I must hurry, for the Queen will be there too, and 
 if I'm late I'll be sure to hear a voice crying: " Off 
 with her head! Off with her head! " 
 
 [Exit Alice. 
 Crusoe. 
 
 Well, my man Friday will be getting anxious. 
 Come, Polly. 
 
 [Picks up cage and exits. 
 
 The Hush-a-Bye Lady 
 (speaking softly as she leans over the Little Girl). 
 Good-night, dear child, and a happy waking. May 
 all the dreams you moet on Rock-a-Bye-Street be full 
 of peace and joy. 
 
 [Exit Lady. 
 The Bagdad Traveler. 
 Come, Hansel. Come, Gretel. Remember you are 
 to ride on my carpet. 
 
 Hansel and Gretel 
 (pausing at door). 
 Good-night, Santa, and a Merry Christmas! 
 
166 ON CHRISTMAS EVE 
 
 Santa Claus. 
 
 Good-night' Good-night! Merry Christmas > every 
 one. (To Boy.) Well, young man, since we both 
 live in the polar region our ways lie in the same 
 direction. How would you like to come with me and 
 drive the reindeer? 
 
 The Boy 
 
 (delightedly). 
 I'd like it better than anything! 
 
 Santa Claus. 
 
 Up you go, then, up you go ! (Pushes boy up chim- 
 ney. Seizes another toy from his pack and lays it be- 
 side the Little Girl who still soundly slumbers.) Sleep 
 well, dream deep, and wake to a Merry Christmas 
 morning! 
 
 [Santa Claus goes up the chimney. There is 
 heard again the stamping of hoofs and the 
 jingling of bells growing fainter and fainter. 
 They cease altogether. Silence. A pause. 
 Steps are heard without. The Little Girl's 
 mother opens the door wearily, closes it be- 
 hind her, and puts down her bundle. Then 
 stares, rubs her eyes, and stares again, trans- 
 fixed by what she sees. The Little Girl 
 sleeps on. Tableau. 
 
 Curtain 
 
COSTUMES 
 
 The Little Girl: Dark blue woolen dress, clean 
 but worn. 
 
 Wendy: Brown dress. White lace collar. Brown 
 cloak. Carries large " Witch " broom. 
 
 Crusoe: Tall fur hat. Suit made of a combination 
 of fur and leather; with leather girdle and knives 
 stuck in it. Goat skin pocket attached to girdle. 
 Gun in hand. 
 
 Alice: Prim little short dress of white. Dainty white 
 apron with tiny pockets and edging of lace. Wears 
 a pale blue woolen cloak, hooded, which she takes 
 off on entering. 
 
 Gretel: Dark green skirt. Deep girdle of same laced 
 over a white bodice. Cream colored apron bordered 
 with red and green. Flaring white peasant cap. 
 Dark green cape that she removes on entering. 
 Red mittens. Wooden shoes. . If these are not 
 procurable a good way to imitate them is to have a 
 pair cut and shaped from the heaviest wrapping 
 paper, and then pasted over an old pair of slippers. 
 
 Hansel: Dark knee breeches. Bright shirt and over 
 this a little tight-fitting black velvet jacket snugly 
 buttoned up the front. Black cap with laps over 
 the ears. Green mittens. Wooden shoes. Both 
 Hansel and Gretel wear very gay stockings. 
 167 
 
168 COSTUMES 
 
 Bagdad Traveler: Yellow satin suit with very full 
 Turkish breeches. Red and green silken sash. A 
 great number of neck chains and immense jewels. 
 Yellow stockings and yellow turned-up Turkish 
 slippers, richly embroidered with gold. Blue and 
 white turban. His face should be a dark yellowish 
 brown and he should have a black mustache curling 
 up at the ends. 
 
 The Boy from the Back of the North Wind: 
 Esquimaux suit dusted with silver snow powder. 
 
 The Hush-a-Bye Lady: Long trailing white robe 
 bordered with scarlet poppies on bands of silver. 
 Silver stars and white and scarlet poppies worn on 
 her flowing hair as a crown. Over her dress she 
 wears a long soft white wrap trimmed with swans- 
 down. 
 
 The Little Girl's Mother: Plain gray woolen 
 working dress. Dark jacket, neat but worn. Shawl 
 over her head. 
 
THE ELF CHILD 
 
CHARACTERS 
 
 Heather Bell, an elf 
 The Herb Gatherer 
 First Village Child 
 Second Village Child 
 Chorus of Six or More Village Children 
 
DRAMATIC DIRECTIONS 
 
 The play can be given either out of doors or indoors. 
 If indoors, try to bring to it as much of the outdoor 
 spirit as possible. Teach the children a quaint march 
 figure if there is not room for them to dance. Build 
 the Herb Gatherer's hut of canvas and fasten to it 
 twigs and leaves and patches of green cambric. A 
 little door of white cardboard painted with faint brown 
 streaks to represent birch bark, and having greenish 
 and brownish markings of a deeper tone to give the 
 effect of moss and weather-staining. Use a schoolroom 
 bench if a weather-darkened one is not to be had. A 
 number of plants should be placed about right, left, and 
 in background. There should be, if possible, a green 
 floor covering. If the costumes later designated are 
 too difficult, have prettily colored tissue paper caps for 
 the peasant boys, and aprons with gay borders for 
 the peasant girls. Heather Bell should wear a pair 
 of purplish wings made of tinted cardboard, and the 
 Herb Gatherer a dark dress and hood, with an apron 
 to which are fastened red and green cabalistic signs 
 so as to make a border. 
 
 At the indoor production of the play one of the 
 village children should speak the following proiogue: 
 171 
 
PROLOGUE 
 
 Listen all ye who come to stay 
 
 And witness here our elfin play ! 
 
 Think that you see, from left to right, 
 
 A woodland, sun-kissed, dappled, bright; 
 
 That overhead green branches meet, 
 
 And that midst grass and frond-fern sweet 
 
 Grow flowers with juice medicinal, 
 
 And herbs possessed of healing spell. 
 
 While, hid by oak and pointed fir, 
 
 The house of the Herb Gatherer 
 
 Peeps at the passers in the wood — 
 
 At peasant child or dame with hood. 
 
 Imagine that it is the close 
 
 Of a long summer's day. The rose 
 
 Begins to fold her soft leaves up, 
 
 The bee forsakes the lily's cup; 
 
 And village children homeward turn 
 
 Ere candlelight begins to burn. 
 
 Imagine, therefore, such a scene 
 
 Set deep within a forest green, 
 
 Let woodland fancies hold you thrall. 
 
 And grant your patience through it all. 
 
 172 
 
THE ELF CHILD 
 
 The scene is a forest. Trees right and left, with 
 curious herbs and flowers growing beneath them. In 
 the background the Herb Gatherer s hut, very tiny and 
 weather-stained, with moss on its sloping eaves, and 
 grass growing up to its very door sill as if the forest 
 claimed it for its own. Near this an old bench, so 
 gray-green with lichens that it looks like part and parcel 
 of its surroundings. The time is on a mid-summer eve 
 at the edge of twilight. The village children, girls 
 with short skirts and peasant bodices, and boys in quaint 
 suits and caps, pass laden with flowers, and carrying 
 gay baskets heaped with wild fruits, and piles of fagots. 
 They go from right to left across the stage, their final 
 exit being left. 
 
 At the right, half -hidden by tree branches, little 
 Heather Bell watches them wistfully. All of Heather 
 Bell's movements are light and fantastic, differing 
 greatly in their elfishness from those of the village 
 children. 
 
 Chorus of Children. 
 
 Gentle comrades, come away! 
 Closes now the long bright day. 
 On our hearths the fagots burn, 
 Back from the forest paths we turn. 
 173 
 
174 THE ELF CHILD 
 
 O the touch of mother lips, 
 O the arm that round us slips! 
 We shall shut the darkness out, 
 And the shadows round about. 
 Twilight falls, yet from afar 
 In each doorway like a star 
 Shine the beacon lights of Home 
 Telling us no more to roam. 
 [Exit Children. Heather Bell, who has 
 emerged from behind the trees at the word 
 "Home," darts after them with pleading, 
 outstretched arms. 
 
 Heather Bell. 
 
 The lights of Home — Oh, by those lights the lamps 
 of fairyland seem cold and dim ! Stay, let me go with 
 you! (Sorrowfully.) They do not heed! They do 
 not hear! They do not even see me! 
 
 Chorus of Children 
 (in distance). 
 Like a welcome when we roam 
 Shine the beacon lights of home! 
 
 Heather Bell. 
 
 Nay, they are gone, and there is naught left but the 
 echo ! And here am I alone in the wood ! My elf 
 comrades would laugh at me could they see how fruit- 
 less hath been my journey. 'Tis the every edge of the 
 forest, and nought do I see but trees and ferns and — 
 
THE ELF CHILD 175 
 
 (Catches sight of Herb Gatherer's hut.) Stay, there's 
 a little house within the trees! Nay, as I live, 'tis the 
 house of the wise old woman the village folk call the 
 Herb Gatherer. They say that her skill in simples 
 hath made her more than human wise. And more than 
 elfin wise, it may be, for those who live in the forest 
 learn to see far off. If I did but tap on the door. 
 (Goes up to the hour.e.) There's some one stirring 
 within! I can hear a footstep! Oh, if I knocked, 
 would she hear me? If she opened the door would 
 she speak to me? I will try! (Knocks gently at 
 door.) 
 
 [The Herb Gatherer opens the door and appears 
 upon its threshold, a strange regal figure, 
 touched with forest mystery, and carrying a 
 bag holding herbs in her hand. 
 
 The Herb Gatherer. 
 
 Now, by tht tap of thy fingers I know thee to be an 
 elf. What dost thou here so far from the heart of 
 the forest? Where are the other elves, thy comrades? 
 
 Heather Bell 
 (overjoyed). 
 Thou dost see me? Thou dost hear me? 
 
 The Herb Gatherer. 
 Assuredly. 
 
 Heather Bell. 
 Then why do they not see me ? 
 
176 THE ELF CHILD 
 
 The Herb Gatherer. 
 They? 
 
 Heather Bell. 
 
 The village children who passed but now with songs 
 and dances. I call to them and they will not listen, 
 I stretch out my arms to them and they will not heed 
 me. Why do they pass with never a glance or a word 
 for me ? 
 
 The Herb Gatherer 
 (going to seat, left). 
 
 They pass thee, elf, because they do not see thee. 
 They are mortal folk, and to them thou art only a 
 shadow. 
 
 Heather Bell 
 (to herself, following Herb Gatherer to seat). 
 
 A shadow! Mayhap, then, that is why! (To the 
 Herb Gatherer.) O good Herb Gatherer, they say in 
 the village that forest ways have made thee more than 
 human wise and for that reason I seek thy counsel. 
 Listen. All my life I was content in the forest. The 
 wind and the dew and the stars were enough for me. 
 Then came the night when I strayed to the edge of 
 the village, and saw the lights that shone through 
 windows and doorways, welcome lights, human lights, 
 the lights of Home ! And since that time the lights of 
 fairyland have never called me ; . I have no heart for 
 any elfin dances; I shiver now when winds sweep 
 through the forest. I want the look of human eyes, 
 
THE ELF CHILD 177 
 
 so deep, so tender. I want the touch of human chil- 
 dren's hands. 
 
 The Herb Gatherer 
 
 (nodding to herself). 
 
 Weary of unreality, poor elf. Aye, there be many 
 like thee. 
 
 Heather Bell. 
 
 There is a house in the village — a little house where 
 a man and his wife sit childless by their hearthstone, 
 and on winter nights when the wind wails the woman 
 raises her head and listens. And ofttimes she opens 
 the door and looks without. 
 
 * Why dost thou open the door, wife? " says the man. 
 
 " Lest a wandering beggar child touch the latch, 
 and I not hear it," says the woman. " For though 
 we are poor there is bread enough for one mouth more, 
 and a place is ever to spare at our hearthstone." 
 
 " And in thy heart too, good wife," says the man. 
 
 " Aye, and in my heart, too," says the woman. 
 
 Seest thou not, good Herb Gatherer, that if they 
 could but hear me I might lift the latch and enter. 
 Often and often I knock, and often I stand with my 
 face pressed to the window. Is it because I am a 
 shadow that they do not hear me? \ 
 
 The Herb Gatherer. 
 
 Aye, 'tis because thou art a shadow, as all elves arc 
 shadows. 
 
i;8 THE ELF CHILD 
 
 Heather Bell 
 (anxiously). 
 Is it my wings that make me not a human ? 
 
 The Herb Gatherer. 
 
 Nay, 'tis because thou hast no soul. 
 
 Heather Bell 
 
 (passionately). 
 
 No soul! What is a soul? Can I not gain one? 
 Answer ! 
 
 The Herb Gatherer. 
 
 Aye, thou canst gain one. But how I may not tell 
 thee. 
 
 Heather Bell 
 (joyously). 
 
 Oh, I will find the way, if way there be! Let me 
 but think upon it ! Wilt thou wait here for me ? 
 
 The Herb Gatherer. 
 Aye, I will wait. What is thy name, strange elf? 
 
 Heather Bell. 
 My name is Heather Bell. 
 
 The Herb Gatherer. 
 And thou are rightly called; for thou are garbed 
 like the dim moors at twilight. 
 
THE ELF CHILD 179 
 
 Heather Bell 
 (bounding off left). 
 I will not keep thee long, I promise thee. 
 
 The Herb Gatherer 
 (going from flower to flower, culling and cutting and 
 chanting slowly as she bends over them). 
 Herb that only knows the moon, 
 Flower that ever fades too soon ; 
 Bud the honey bee hath left, 
 Stem the summer storm hath cleft — 
 Of ye all I take my till, 
 Be ye balm for human ill ! 
 
 Heather Bell 
 
 (re-entering joyfully from left, hands full of glittering 
 
 metal). 
 
 Look, look, good Herb Gatherer! Now I shall have 
 
 me a soul ; for see, I bring more gold than a king's 
 
 ransom! 'Tis elfin gold, all glittering and shining. 
 
 The Herb Gatherer 
 (shaking her head). 
 Thou canst not buy a soul, sweet Heather Bell. 
 Gold cannot gain thee one. 
 
 Heather Bell 
 (letting the gold slip through her fingers to the ground). 
 Alack for my hopes! Yet still there is some way! 
 (Anxiously.) Thou wilt be here when I return to 
 thee? 
 
180 THE ELF CHILD 
 
 The Herb Gatherer. 
 Aye, I'll be here. 
 
 Heather Bell 
 
 (with returning lightness). 
 
 I'll speed me! 
 
 [Exit Heather Bell left. 
 
 The Herb Gatherer 
 
 (chanting and bending as before). 
 
 Pollen bright as drifting gold, 
 Honey that the flower bells hold, 
 Subtle juices every one 
 Slow fermented by the sun, 
 Working nature's wondrous will, 
 Be ye balm for human ill. 
 
 [Re-enter Heather Bell, right. 
 
 Art back again, sweet Heather Bell? 
 
 Heather Bell. 
 
 Swift as my wings could carry me! And now at 
 last, good Herb Gatherer, I have my portent. Wise 
 as thou art, there are some things we elves alone are 
 given to know. I can tell the language of the bees 
 and birds, what the brook sings as it runs, and what 
 old runes and tales the pine trees whisper one to 
 another — all this will I fathom for thee and more, so 
 I may gain me a soul ! 
 
THE ELF CHILD 181 
 
 The Herb Gatherer 
 
 (pityingly). 
 
 Knowledge cannot give thee a soul, sweet Heather 
 Bell. All the deep lore of Elfdom will not aid thee. 
 
 Heather Bell. 
 
 Nay, I will try again. Wait yet a little, good 
 Herb Gatherer. 
 
 [Exit Heather Bell, left. 
 
 The Herb Gatherer 
 
 (bending and chanting as before). 
 Branch that frost can never blight, 
 Creeping tendril, curled and white, 
 Fibers sunshine hath not found, 
 Root that groweth underground, 
 Now your healing tasks fulfil, 
 Be ye balm for human ill! 
 [Re-enter Heather Bell, breathless, from back* 
 ground. 
 How now, Elf? What has possessed thee? 
 
 Heather Bell 
 
 (passionately, her face wet with tears). 
 
 Oh, come — come swiftly! Here in the wood a 
 child hath gone astray! I cannot make her hear me 
 
 —cannot make her see me ! The tarns are deep 
 
 — the water pixies evil ! Beseech you 
 
182 THE ELF CHILD 
 
 The Herb Gatherer 
 
 (pausing). 
 Hark! 
 
 [The First Village Child appears in bach- 
 ground, followed by the other village chil- 
 dren, right. From the left hastens Second 
 Village Child, a little girl with bramble- 
 torn dress and cap, and' her eyes wide with 
 fear. 
 
 First Village Child. 
 Sweetest comrade, didst thou stray? 
 
 Second Village Child. 
 
 Aye, I turned and lost my way. 
 Oh, the wood's a fearsome place — 
 Every gnarled tree seemed a face! 
 By the deep tarn in the dell 
 On the rocks I slipped and fell ! 
 And the forest was so still — 
 And I wept and fled, until 
 
 First Village Child. 
 
 Hush thee, sweet, and have no fear! 
 
 See! The village lights are near! 
 
 Soon again our steps shall turn 
 
 To the hearts where fagots burn ! 
 [The children pass slowly out left. Heather 
 Bell clings to the Herb Gatherer in a pas- 
 sion of relief. 
 
THE ELF CHILD 183 
 
 The Elf Child. 
 
 She is safe — she is safe, oh, good Herb Gatherer! 
 (Shuddering.) And the tarn was so deep — and I 
 could not make her hear! 
 
 The Herb Gatherer. 
 What is that within thine eyes, sweet Heather Bell? 
 
 Heather Bell 
 
 (brushing hand across eyes). 
 
 Indeed, good Herb Gatherer, I know not! 'Tis a 
 smarting drop of salty water that seems to come from 
 my heart! 'Tis something I have never felt before — 
 I, who am but a shadow! And alas! alas! good Herb 
 Gatherer, I know at last that the way an elf may 
 gain a soul is a way that I may not find. (Bitterly.) 
 I have nought to offer you but shadows, and the 
 dreams of shadows! (Turns to go.) 
 
 The Herb Gatherer. 
 
 Shadow no longer, little Heather Bell. Thy tears 
 have made thee human. Gold could not purchase 
 thee a soul, nor knowledge gain it for thee, but grief 
 and thought for another than thyself will open e'en 
 the doors of Paradise! (Heather Bell raises a face 
 radiant with human happiness; her wings fall to the 
 ground.) Listen! Yonder are the village children! 
 Thy hearthstone waits thee, and a woman's hungry 
 kisses! 
 
184 THE ELF CHILD 
 
 Chorus of Village Children 
 
 (re-entering, see Heather Bell and surrouna her 
 rapturously as a new playmate). 
 
 Little stranger, come away! 
 Thou wilt not refuse to stay? 
 On our hearths the fagots burn! 
 Back from forest ways we turn. 
 O the touch of waiting lips! 
 O the arm that round us slips! 
 We shall shut the darkness out, 
 And the shadows round about. 
 Twilight falls, yet from afar, 
 In each doorway like a star, 
 Shine the beacon lights of home, 
 Telling us no more to roam! 
 [ The children dance off right, with the willing 
 Heather Bell. The Herb Gatherer watches 
 them, a grave smile in her eyes. Then she 
 stoops and picks up the wings that a 
 moment since fell from Heather Bell's 
 shoulders. As Heather Bell exits it is seen 
 that she is no longer fantastic in her gestures, 
 nor elfish in her flitting walk as formerly. 
 
 The Herb Gatherer. 
 
 She hath dropped her wings, and doth not even 
 know it! I will take them to mend the storm-broken 
 wings of bees and butterflys! 
 
 I The Herb Gatherer goes towards her huU 
 
THE ELF CHILD 185 
 
 From the distance comes the joyous echo of 
 
 children's voices. 
 
 Like a welcome when we roam 
 Shine the beacon lights of home! 
 [The Herb Gatherer listens a moment, with 
 
 face up-raised, and then as the echo dies, 
 
 enters her hut and closes the door. The 
 
 play ends. 
 
COSTUMES 
 
 The Herb Gatherer: Olive green dress, laced 
 bodice, and skirt falling to ankles. Tattered cloak: 
 of same color about shoulders. Apron with 
 quaintly embroidered pockets and border. Dark 
 green pouch pocket at girdle which she fills 
 with herbs. 
 
 Heather Bell: Elfin dress of dark heather purple- 
 brown. Hose and tight-fitting waist of same 
 color. Slashings of purple cloth that fall in rib- 
 bons below the knees. Soft pointed elfin shoes. 
 Heather colored wings with faint markings of 
 white. Peaked cap. 
 
 Village Children: Peasant dresses, quaint and gay. 
 
 186 
 
THE PRINCESS AND THE PIXIES 
 
CHARACTERS 
 
 Thuldo, a peasant 
 
 Gretta, his wife 
 
 Rosadew, a little apprentice who lives with them and 
 
 tends their sheep 
 Flittermouse, \ 
 Fernseed, V Pixies 
 
 Thistlekin, J 
 King Radnor 
 Queen Eleanor 
 
 Attendants on the King and Queen 
 
DRAMATIC DIRECTIONS 
 
 The play can be given most easily, for the indoor 
 setting is simple in the extreme: a plain deal table 
 and a deal chair; a cupboard and fireplace built of 
 boxes as described in Nimble- Wit and Fingerkin ; and 
 the most ordinary white china bowls, cups, and plates. 
 If the costumes designated for a fuller dramatic pro- 
 duction of the play are not wished, then substitute 
 tissue paper caps of brown for the Pixies, all made 
 alike ; a bright handkerchief around the neck for Thul- 
 do; an apron with a gay border basted to it for Gretta; 
 and a few rags and tatters basted to Rosadew's every- 
 day dress to give her the appearance of poverty. 
 Capes for the King and Queen, and gilt crowns. 
 Gilt paper stars and crosses fastened to ribbons, and 
 then crosses about the shoulders of their attendants. 
 The one item of expense will be Rosadew's robe that 
 the Pixies have spun for her. This can be made of 
 three yards of pale blue glazed cambric with a great 
 star of silver paper cut out and pasted to the center 
 of the material; and a border of gold paper pasted 
 around the edge. 
 
 The gestures of the peasants and their bearing 
 189 
 
190 DRAMATIC DIRECTIONS 
 
 should be somewhat awkward and uncouth, so as to 
 contrast with that of the court folk. Rosadew's ways 
 and manner should be especially charming. The pix- 
 ies should move about on tip-toe, lightly, fantastically, 
 swiftly. 
 
THE PRINCESS AND THE PIXIES 
 
 The scene is Thuldo's house, a bare, meager room, 
 the floor uncarpeted, the walls unadorned. 
 
 At the left there is a hearthstone with embers aglow, 
 and with a shelf above it on which are a few rude 
 cooking utensils. 
 
 A table in the center of the room made of plain 
 deal. Three or four plain deal chairs. 
 
 Against the right wall a cupboard containing earth- 
 enware dishes. 
 
 In the center background a door. At the left of 
 this a window rudely curtained. A door opening in- 
 to another room at left. Th • time is evening in late 
 April. At the rise of the curtain the stage is empty. 
 A whirring sound comes from the room at left and 
 presently stops as the door opens and Flittermouse ap- 
 pears, looking cautiously about, and stepping nimbly 
 and lightly as if in fear of detection. Then Flitter- 
 mouse returns to the room at left again and above the 
 pleasant whirring sound is heard the voice of Flitter- 
 mouse singing. 
 
 Twirl and turn, twirl and turn, 
 Thistlekin, Flittermouse,- Seed o'Fern! 
 Wondrous the garment we prepare, 
 Fit for a true Princess to wear. 
 191 
 
i 9 2 THE PRINCESS AND THE PIXIES 
 
 Golden the thread on the spindle flies, 
 Pearly the tears of Rosadew's eyes, 
 Twirl and turn, twirl and turn, 
 Thistlekin, Flittermouse, Seed o' Fern ! 
 [As the song ends Flittermouse comes into the 
 room again, and somewhat impatiently, as 
 well as cautiously, looks out the door. 
 
 Flittermouse. 
 There's not a sign of them! 
 
 Thistlekin 
 
 (entering with Fernseed). 
 
 Not a sign, say you, Flittermouse, and here we are 
 at your elbow! 
 
 Flittermouse 
 
 (turning). 
 
 Greetings, fellow Pixies! Where have you been 
 this long time? 
 
 Fernseed. 
 
 Out on the hills where Rosadew is tending sheep. 
 
 Flittermouse. 
 Was she alone, good Fernseed? 
 
 Fernseed. 
 
 Nay, not altogether alone; for at noon there came 
 an old woman so feeble and weary that Rosadew must 
 
THE PRINCESS AND THE PIXIES 193 
 
 needs help her over the muddy brook bank, and the 
 lichen-covered rocks. 
 
 Thistlekin. 
 
 And later there came a beggar boy with whom 
 Rosadew must needs share her black bread and goat's 
 cheese. (Mysteriously.) So here's to our further 
 spinning, comrades! 
 
 Fernseed. 
 
 Aye, and neither Rosadew nor Thuldo nor his wife 
 have ever guessed what goes on beneath their very 
 roof. 
 
 Flittermouse. 
 
 Hist! I hear Goodwife Gretta coming! Let us to 
 [Exit gnomes through door, left. 
 
 our spinning! 
 
 Gretta 
 
 (entering and looking about). 
 
 There's no one here — 'tis as quiet as the fields in 
 the spring sunshine, and yet I thought I heard foot- 
 steps. Well, I was mistaken. 'Twas naught but the 
 wind playing tricks in the chimney, and I must set the 
 cakes to brown. (Bends at hearthstone, setting out 
 round cakes, like small slabs.) 'Tis near the hour foi 
 Rosadew's home-coming. (Rises and looks towards 
 outer door.) There she is, driving the sheep before 
 her. Now she is putting them into the byre. (Enter 
 
194 THE PRINCESS AND THE PIXIES 
 
 Rosadezu.) Well Rosadew, does the evening find you 
 tired and hungry? 
 
 Rosadew 
 (prettily). 
 So tired, and so hungry! But let me turn the 
 cakes, Goodwife Gretta. You have been stirring 
 about the house much longer than I. 
 
 Gretta 
 
 (yawning). 
 The day is long when one rises at dawn! Look to 
 the cakes if you will, Rosadew, and see to it that they 
 do not burn. (Stretches.) There are times when it 
 seems a hundred years between sunrise and sunset! 
 
 Rosadew 
 (rising from hearth). 
 Will you not rest, Goodwife Gretta, and let me 
 take your knitting? I can knit and watch the cakes 
 at the same time. See how the shadows dance where 
 the firelight plays! (Gretta dozes in her chair, and 
 Rosadezu, seeing that she is not altogether at ease, runs 
 and fetches a footstool.) Nay, of what use am I if 
 I cannot serve you? Am I not your apprentice, and 
 is it not my pleasure to do my office well? (Goes 
 back to her place by the fire, and knits industriously.) 
 There! The last stitch is taken and the cakes are 
 done! Now let me see to the table and the cupboard 
 (Rises.) 
 
THE PRINCESS AND THE PIXIES 195 
 
 Gretta 
 (opening her eyes). 
 
 Nay, then, how did I fall to dozing! (Goes to the 
 door.) 'Tis almost supper time! (Stands by the 
 door looking out.) 
 
 Rosadew. 
 
 Aye, the hills are growing dark, and the sunset if 
 fading! 
 
 Gretta. 
 
 I can see Thuldo coming up the hill road now. 
 He is late. What kept you, Thuldo? I have been 
 looking and listening for you these many moments! 
 
 Thuldo 
 (entering). 
 Great news is astir on the highway! The Kint, 
 and Queen are weary of living alon'e in their grea 
 castle, and have sent forth word that the child that i 
 nearest to being a Princess they will take and rea. 
 as their own! 
 
 [Rosadew during the following has put the 
 cakes on a platter, and now goes to and 
 fro between the cupboard and the table, 
 putting rude bowls and plates on it. 
 
 Gretta. 
 
 Nearest to being a Princess ? What can that mean, 
 I wonder? 
 
196 THE PRINCESS AND THE PIXIES 
 
 Thuldo. 
 
 Whatever it means, wife, it is no affair of ours. 
 Our lives pass far enough from courts and the like. 
 Come, the table is ready and the cakes have a savory 
 odor. The King and Queen may have finer viands; 
 but I'll warrant they have no finer hunger! 
 
 [They take their places at the table, Rosadew 
 placing the cakes on a platter, and pouring 
 out milk into bowls, rising from her place 
 to wait on Thuldo and Gretta. The hum- 
 ming at the room left begins again, faint 
 as a whisper at first, and then growing 
 gradually louder. 
 
 Rosadew. 
 Have you ever seen the King and Queen? 
 
 Thuldo. 
 
 Aye, I have seen them. Often they ride down the 
 highway with smiles and bows for all who pass. 
 
 Gretta 
 (raising her head). 
 What is that sound? 
 
 Thuldo. 
 Sound ? 
 
 Gretta. 
 
 It is like the whir of a wheel or a shuttle, as if some 
 one was spinning. 
 
THE PRINCESS AND THE PIXIES tfcff 
 
 ROSADEW. 
 Spinning? 
 
 Gretta. 
 
 Aye, 'tis like the running of a loom. 
 
 Thuldo. 
 
 What nonsense, wife. You'll be hearing songs in 
 the wind next. 
 
 Rosadew. 
 
 Perhaps . . . perhaps it's Pixies! 
 
 Thuldo 
 
 (with a snort of indignation). 
 Pixies ! 
 
 Rosadew. 
 
 The little elf-creatures who live upon the moors, 
 and sometimes near the hearths of people's homes. 
 
 [A knock sounds at the door without. 
 
 Gretta. 
 Hark! What is that? 
 
 Thuldo 
 (placidly going on with his eating). 
 It is the spring wind blowing at the latch. 
 
198 THE PRINCESS AND THE PIXIES 
 
 Gretta. 
 It is a knock. Go open it, Rosadew! 
 
 [King Radnor enters, followed by Queen 
 Eleanor and attendants. 
 
 Thuldo 
 (much taken aback). 
 It Is their Gracious Majesties! 
 
 King Radnor. 
 Greetings unto all beneath this roof. 
 
 [Rosadew, with hands clasped upon her breast 
 and wide-open eyes, backs towards the fire- 
 place. 
 
 Queen Eleanor 
 (to Thuldo and his wife). 
 Have you not heard of that for which we seek? 
 
 Thuldo 
 (bowing lower and lower). 
 I did, indeed, hear a rumor, your Majesty. 
 
 Queen Eleanor. 
 Is there no child beneath your roof, good peasant? 
 
 Gretta 
 (recovering from her stupefaction). 
 But one, your Majesty; a young orphan apprentice 
 
THE PRINCESS AND THE PIXIES ioo 
 
 who tends our sheep. But, indeed, if your Majesty 
 wishes a child that is nearest to being a Princess, your 
 Majesty would never look at little Rosadew. 
 
 Queen Eleanor. 
 
 Yet I have promised myself that I will pass no 
 house, rich or poor; so call the child, good peasant. 
 
 Gretta 
 (beckoning violently). 
 Come hither, Rosadew. 
 
 Rosadew 
 (approaching very timidly). 
 
 In such poor rags as these I am not fit to come near 
 your Majesty. 
 
 Queen Eleanor 
 (very charmingly). 
 Ah, but what if you should prove to be a Princess? 
 
 Rosadew 
 (wonderingly). 
 A Princess / 
 
 Queen Eleanor. 
 
 I am looking for a little maid who is royal enough 
 to come and live with me in my castle, and how am I 
 to know if she is royal ? your big eyes ask. Well, there 
 is one way by which we may always tell; for it isn't 
 
200 THE PRINCESS AND THE PIXIES 
 
 what is worn on the back that makes a Princess, it's 
 what is worn in the heart. And so every little girl 
 who is generous and simple and kind is a very royal 
 sort of Princess, don't you see? 
 
 Gretta 
 (aside). 
 Who ever heard the like! 
 
 Queen Eleanor 
 (holding out her hand to Rosadew). 
 
 Come and let me look deep into your eyes, little 
 Rosadew. 
 
 [As Rosadew goes towards her the door at left 
 opens, and above the whirring is heard the 
 Pixies' song, sung in chorus, rapidly. 
 
 Twirl and turn, twirl and turn, 
 Thistlekin, Flittermouse, Seed o' Fern. 
 Wondrous the garment we prepare, 
 Fit for a true Princess to wear. 
 Golden the thread on the swindle-flies, 
 Pearly the tears of Rosadew 's eyes. 
 Twirl and turn, twirl and turn, 
 Thistlekin, Flittermouse, Seed o' Fern, 
 
 King Radnor 
 (starting). 
 'Tis like the sound of Pixie voices. 
 
THE PRINCESS AND THE PIXIES 201 
 
 Thistlekin 
 
 (dancing in with Flittermouse and Fernseed, who carry 
 
 between them a gorgeous robe, a tiny diadem 
 
 of stars, and a necklace of pearls). 
 
 Aye, and we are none but Pixies, your Majesty. 
 And all day long and every day we watch little Rosa- 
 dew yonder as she tends her sheep on the hills. And 
 there is none too lowly for her to help, and none so 
 poor but that she must do them a courtesy. For 
 everything that is glad she has a smile; and for 
 everything that is sorrowful, a tear. So all unknown 
 to Thuldo and his wife beneath this roof we have 
 done our Pixie spinning, and now our handiwork is 
 finished. 'Tis a robe for Rosadew, woven of her 
 deeds of kindness, and bordered with an embroidery 
 of the sweetest thoughts. (Places it about Rosadew's 
 shoulders.) You need no longer blush for your rags, 
 sweet Rosadew. 
 
 Fernseed. 
 
 And here is a necklace made of all the tears of pity 
 she has shed. (Fastens it about her neck.) 
 
 Flittermouse. 
 And these stars are made of the love and shining- 
 ness that looks forth from her eyes. (Crowns her 
 with diadem of tiny stars.) 
 
 Queen Eleanor 
 (tenderly). 
 Ah, I see now that she is a true Princess, Will 
 
202 THE PRINCESS AND THE PIXIES 
 
 you come with me, little Rosadew, and live in the 
 castle of my heart? 
 
 Rosadew. 
 
 O, gladly, gladly; for none ever looked at me as 
 you have looked, none ever spoke in such a gentle 
 voice as yours (Queen Eleanor clasps her to her.) 
 But Thuldo and his wife, with whom I have lived so 
 long, and my sheep whom I have tended 
 
 Queen Eleanor. 
 
 You shall see them often, Rosadew, and this I 
 promise you: that neither hunger nor cold shall ever 
 cross their threshold. 
 
 Rosadew. 
 
 And the Pixies — dear little people of the moor, 
 how can I ever thank you? 
 
 Flittermouse. 
 
 By remembering that we are always in your service. 
 [Exit King Radnor, Queen Eleanor, Rosadew 
 and attendants. 
 
 Thistlekin. 
 
 Come, comrades. Our labors are finished. Let us 
 go dance in the moonlight! 
 
 [Exit Pixies through door in background. 
 
THE PRINCESS AND THE PIXIES 20| 
 
 Thuldo 
 
 (dazedly, standing by Rosadew's place at table and 
 touching the things she used). 
 
 There is the plate from which she ate, and the cup 
 from which she drank! She, a Princess! 'Tis a sign, 
 wife, that we must be careful of what we say and do, 
 for who knows how many of the folk we meet may 
 be royal? 
 
 Curtain 
 
COSTUMES 
 
 Rosadew: Tattered dress of black or brown. Littlt 
 
 sleeves coming to the elbow. White stockings tc 
 
 represent bare feet. 
 Tkuldo: Peasant costume. Black, shabby knee 
 
 breeches. White, loose shirt, over which is worn 
 
 a dark green vest with tarnished brass buttons 
 
 down one side. 
 Gretta: Scarlet skirt. Black peasant bodice. White 
 
 chemisette. 
 King Radnor: Velvet cap with gold and plume. 
 
 Long purple velvet riding cloak that covers him 
 
 from head to heel. 
 Queen Eleanor: Long black velvet riding cloak 
 
 opening over a robe of rich brocade. 
 The King and Queen's attendants. As handsome 
 court clothes as possible. 
 
 tt>4 
 
THE CHRISTMAS GUEST 
 
 A Miracle Play in One Act after the Manner of the 
 Sixteenth Century 
 
CHARACTERS 
 
 Rosamund 
 Geoffrey 
 Harold 
 Elinor 
 Frances 
 
 Dame Margaret 
 A Beggar 
 The Spirit of Yule. Prologue and Epilogue 
 
DRAMATIC DIRECTIONS 
 
 In order to give a sixteenth century appearance to 
 the schoolroom production, at each end of the space 
 which forms the stage, and part way across, place 
 screens. Over the screens hang portiers or curtains 
 of some solid color — dark green, crimson, Italian blue. 
 These screens are so placed as to give the necessary 
 number of exits and entrances, viz., the door in center 
 background, and one at right and left. Against the 
 background or wall, hang a curtain of some material 
 closely resembling flowered damask. This, when 
 lifted with an air of looking out, will stand in lieu 
 of a window. White splotches of chalk on the black- 
 board over whch this curtain is hung will give the 
 effect of a snowy night outside when the curtain is 
 lifted. If " mission furniture " is not procurable, drape 
 the school chairs with curtains to give a sixteenth 
 century effect. The fireplace mentioned in the direc- 
 tions can be done without ; though if one of the school- 
 made fireplaces fashioned of drygoods boxes mentioned 
 in the other plays can be had, it will add greatly to 
 the scene. On the curtains which drape the screens, 
 and against any of the wall space that remains, hang 
 as many pine and holly wreaths as possible. Have 
 candles burning here and there to show it is the close 
 S07 
 
208 DRAMATIC DIRECTIONS 
 
 of day. If the more ornate costumes described at the 
 end of the play are not procurable, the everyday 
 dresses of the children can be changed thus: White 
 cheesecloth draperies for the Spirit of Yule, chaplet of 
 real or artificial holly. The quaint dresses for the 
 girls should be made in the same fashion as those 
 described in The House of the Heart, there being little 
 change in the costumes of children in the two cen- 
 turies. The boys' costumes are also the same as those 
 described in The House of the Heart. The material, 
 cambric. For Elinor, pale blue. For Frances, pale 
 yellow. For Dame Margaret, an everyday long dress 
 with a white cap and kerchief. For Geoffrey, dark 
 purple. For Harold, dark green. For the beggar, a 
 long tattered hood and cloak of some dark color, gray 
 or brown. 
 
 If the play is given on a miniature stage, care should 
 be taken about the lighting of the scene. From the 
 time when the children blow out the candles the room 
 should grow darker and darker. Then, when Frances 
 discovers that the beggar was indeed the angel, a 
 brilliant shaft of light should strike full into the 
 darkened room. 
 
The Spirit of Yule stands before the curtain and 
 delivers the Prologue 
 
 Lordings and Ladies gathered here 
 To have your fill of Christmas cheer, 
 Give ear I pray you needfully 
 Unto such things as here shall be. 
 Short is our play and scant of wit, 
 Yet I beseech you, follow it 
 And take the kernel of its truth. 
 As for the players — let their youth 
 Condont their faults. Your patience lend 
 And if ye find aught to commend 
 In this our play, we are repaid 
 For all the striving we have made, 
 Now shall the curtain slowly rise, 
 Displaying to our waiting eyes 
 The play's beginning. Let it be 
 Heard to the end with courtesy. 
 
 309 
 
THE CHRISTMAS GUEST 
 
 The scene of the play is the hall of a sixteenth cen- 
 tury house of people of quality. At the right a chim- 
 ney place with huge logs aglow. The chimney shelf 
 is banked with Christmas greens. By the hearth, fac- 
 ing the audience, a splendidly carved high-backed 
 chair. Near it a footstool. There are a number of 
 candles burning on the chimney shelf. 
 
 In the right background a door opening on the vista 
 of a white wintry twilight that is nearing its close. 
 
 In the left background a window with crimson 
 damask curtains reaching to the floor. 
 
 At the left, back, a door opening into another room 
 of the house. On the left wall, skins, swords, deer 
 horns, etc. Running along the lower part of the wall 
 a long carved bench. On it tumbled heaps of Christ- 
 mas gifts, bunches of holly and mistletoe, etc. 
 
 At the rise of the curtain Dame Margaret is seated 
 by the fire embroidering. She is small and ruddy. 
 Her hair is almost white, but her face is unlined. 
 
 Near the center of the room there is a table (mission 
 style). On it a plate, cup, and flagon, Christmas cakes, 
 and candles burning. At the left the children stand 
 in a group, holding their presents in their hands, 
 notably, a fur-lined hood, a pouch purse, fur-lined 
 m 
 
212 THE CHRISTMAS GUEST 
 
 shoes, while Rosamund is trying on a brocaded fur- 
 lined cloak that falls in heavy folds to the floor, calling 
 on the others to admire it. 
 
 Rosamund. 
 Doth it not look most fairly, Frances? 
 
 Frances. 
 
 Nay, 
 I'm weary of thy cloak. Put it away. 
 Ever since morn we've talked of naught but gifts, 
 Now while the north wind drives the snow in drifts 
 It is the hour for tales and legends old, 
 For rhymes of saints, or of crusaders bold, 
 Of kings and heroes and angelic choir. 
 Come, let us gather close about the fire, 
 And quench the candles, till we make the room 
 A place of dancing shadows — gleam and gloom. 
 
 [Rosamund and Geoffrey blow out candles 
 Draw fast the curtains. Let the Yule log's light 
 Be our one festal flame this Christmas night! 
 
 (to Harold) 
 What dost thou see? 
 
 Harold 
 
 (who has gone to draw the curtains, pauses there 
 # looking out). 
 
 I see the roadway go 
 Past frosty hedge and meadow white with snow, 
 
THE CHRISTMAS GUEST 213 
 
 Where nothing stirs, save wintry boughs tossed high 
 Against the bleakness of the bitter sky. 
 
 Rosamund 
 (gaily). 
 Come, leave the casement. What have we to do 
 With winter's humors.? Here are wreaths of yew 
 And candlelight and our own hearthstone's glow — 
 So let the drifts heap high, and the wind blow! 
 
 Harold. 
 
 Nay, for on foot to-night, storm-fagged and bent, 
 Their bodies hunger-torn, their raiment rent, 
 Who knows what beggars face the bitter wind! 
 
 Geoffrey. 
 
 Now Heaven grant that such may shelter find, 
 And peace and cheer. 
 
 Frances. 
 Unto that wish, Amen! 
 
 Rosamund 
 
 (as children follow her towards whi,e Dame Margaret 
 is sitting). 
 
 Come, let us gather near the hearth and then 
 Perchance we'll ask Dame Margaret for a tale! 
 
 Dame Margaret. 
 
 A tale, dear hearts? Hark! How the wind doth 
 wail! 
 
214 THE CHRISTMAS GUEST 
 
 It seems to twist the branches of each tree 
 And wring from them a cry of agony. 
 
 Geoffrey. 
 I'll warrant none will stir abroad this night. 
 
 Dame Margaret. 
 Save one, my son, who speeds on wings of light! 
 
 Geoffrey 
 (amazed). 
 On wings of light 
 
 Dame Margaret. 
 
 Aye, for the legends say 
 That ever on the close of Christmas day, 
 When folk are tired of feasting and of mirth, 
 The Christmas Angel comes again to earth, 
 Chooses a house and knocks upon its door 
 
 Elinor 
 (wide-eyed). 
 Why, thou hast never told this tale before! 
 
 Dame Margaret. 
 
 And then 
 
 A Woman's Voice 
 (calling from beyond the door at left). 
 Good Dame! 
 
THE CHRISTMAS GUEST 215 
 
 Dame Margaret 
 (rising). 
 
 It is thy mother's call. 
 (raises voice) 
 Coming, my lady ! 
 
 [Exits hurriedly, left. 
 
 Rosamund 
 
 (still gazing dreamily into fire). 
 
 What if to this hall 
 The wondrous, shining Christmas Angel came, 
 All clothed in white, with wings like to a flame, 
 Knocked on our door and 
 
 Elinor. 
 
 O, I quake with fear! 
 Thou dost not think an angel will come 'here? 
 
 Rosamund 
 
 (her arm about her). 
 
 Why tremblest thou? 
 
 Elinor 
 
 (shamefacedly). 
 
 I'd know not what to say 
 Unto an angel — if one chanced to stay! 
 
216 THE CHRISTMAS GUEST 
 
 Frances 
 
 (wisely). 
 
 Say? Sooth, it is the time of deed, not word. 
 It is the birthday of our gracious Lord, 
 So to the angel we would give our best, 
 The gifts we cherish above all the rest. 
 
 [They go to the bench, left, taking up the 
 gifts as they speak. 
 
 Rosamund. 
 Then I would give my cloak of glorious hues. 
 
 Elinor. 
 And I my hood ! 
 
 Harold. 
 And I my fur-lined shoes! 
 
 Geoffrey. 
 And I my purse! 
 
 Frances. 
 
 And I 
 
 [A knock on the door without. 
 
 Harold 
 (in an awed voice). 
 
 Some one is there! 
 Oner the door! 
 
THE CHRISTMAS GUEST 217 
 
 Rosamund. 
 Nay, nay, I do not dare! 
 
 Elinor 
 
 (fearfully). 
 If it should be the Angel! 
 
 Rosamund 
 
 ( ' commandingly ) . 
 
 Open, straight! 
 Ye know full well an angel should not wait. 
 
 Elinor. 
 
 Hark! How the wind wails ! And the fire burns low. 
 I am afraid. 
 
 Frances. 
 Stay, thou, and I will go. 
 [The children stand together, silent and half 
 fearful, while Frances crosses to the door 
 and opens it. On the threshold appears an 
 old Beggar, tattered and forlorn, yet in 
 spite of flapping rags wearing a strangely 
 regal aspect. 
 
 The Beggar 
 (extending palm). 
 Hast thou any alms to give on Christmas night? 
 
218 THE CHRISTMAS GUEST 
 
 Geoffrey 
 
 (aside to the others, intensely relieved). 
 
 Nay, 'tis no angel clothed in robes of light, 
 *Tis but a wandering Beggar, lean and old. 
 
 Frances 
 (to beggar). 
 Come in and rest thee. It is bitter cold. 
 
 [Beggar crosses with her to chair by fire, 
 And here be Christmas cakes, so eat and sup, 
 
 [Takes them from table, center. 
 And have thy fill. 
 
 [Hands flagon. 
 The Beggar. 
 
 Sweet to the lips the cup 
 So freely given, for it warms the heart, 
 And to the soul true joyance doth impart. 
 
 Rosamund 
 (aside to Geoffrey), 
 That speech is passing strange. What means it? 
 
 Geoffrey 
 (shaking his head, much mystified). 
 
 Nay, 
 I do not know! 
 
THE CHRISTMAS GUEST 219 
 
 Elinor 
 (timidly, to beggar). 
 Hast thou come far to-day? 
 
 The Beggar. 
 Aye, far! From a Far Country! 
 
 Frances. 
 
 Wilt thou not 
 
 Let me refill thy cup? 
 
 [She and the Beggar talk in dumb show. The 
 other children withdraw to the left and talk 
 among themselves, with ever-straying 
 glances towards the figure by the fire. 
 
 Rosamund 
 
 (aside, soberly). 
 
 Bethink the lot 
 Of beggar folk! While we are housed and warm 
 They fare forth cold and hungry through the storm. 
 The chill wind makes a mock of what they wear, 
 Their poor bones feel the keen and searching air; 
 Knuckles all blue with frost, and feet half-shod, 
 Pierced by the stones and brambles they have trod. 
 
 Harold. 
 
 While we have joys and comforts manifold 
 Are we not churls our bounty to withhold? 
 
320 THE CHRISTMAS GUEST 
 
 Geoffrey. 
 Come, then, and let us give the while we may. 
 
 [They cross to Beggar, carrying gifts. 
 
 Geoffrey 
 
 (fastening shoes on Beggar's feet). 
 
 Wilt thou not take from me on Christmas day 
 A little gift to smooth the roads ye tread? 
 
 Harold 
 
 (bestowing purse). 
 
 And this, perchance, will find for you a bed, 
 
 The highways are full dark and cold I know, 
 
 For those who journey friendless through the snow. 
 
 Frances. 
 
 In sooth, why should you trudge the road again? 
 To share our peace and shelter we are fain. 
 Will you not linger while the Yule logs burn? 
 
 The Beggar. 
 Nay! To that country far I must return 1 
 
 Elinor 
 (shyly). 
 Well, then, I prithee wear this hood for me! 
 
THE CHRISTMAS GUEST 221 
 
 The Beggar 
 (rising). 
 Now in the name of sweet Sainte Charitie 
 I give ye thanks! 
 
 Rosamund 
 (approaching). 
 And pleasure me to wear 
 This cloak to shield ye from the wintry air* 
 
 The Beggar. 
 It is a finer cloak than beggars use. 
 
 Rosamund 
 
 (eagerly). 
 
 But thou wilt not a Christmas gift refuse? 
 Wilt thou not take the gift as friend to friend? 
 
 [The Beggar looks at Rosamund a long 
 
 moment and then bows head in assent. 
 
 She slips the cloak about the Beggars 
 
 shoulders. 
 
 The Beggar. 
 Who giveth to the poor doth surely lend! 
 
 [Pauses at door, facing audience. 
 In time to come may there be shown to ye 
 Such welcome as ye now have shown to me, 
 
222 THE CHRISTMAS GUEST 
 
 And when ye knock the door be opened wide. 
 
 [Raises hand. 
 
 Till then all Christmas peace and joy abide 
 Amongst ye always. 
 
 [Exit Beggu, , 
 Frances 
 
 (in a hushed voice). 
 
 As the Beggar spoke 
 'Twas like a benediction, and the cloak 
 Fell as in royal folds. 
 
 Geoffrey. 
 
 Oh, hast thou thought 
 That if the Angel comes we now have nought 
 To give in greeting? 
 
 [A sudden white radiance streams in from 
 •without, filling the darkened room. 
 
 Frances 
 
 (at window, with a cry). 
 
 Look ! There where but now 
 The Beggar stood stands one about whose brow 
 Flashes a glory mystical and white. 
 Oh, 'twas no Beggar came to us to-night! 
 
THE CHRISTMAS GUEST 223 
 
 Rosamund. 
 
 It was the Angel! And we did not know I 
 
 Frances. 
 
 Grieve not. It was a miracle. For lo, 
 Humble and piteous and meanly dressed 
 fhe Christmas Angel came to be our guest! 
 
 Curtain 
 
EPILOGUE 
 
 Spoken by the Spirit of Yule 
 
 Lordings and Ladies, all is done, 
 And our short play its length has run. 
 For that ye heard it patiently 
 We give most humble thanks to ye, 
 And bid ye think of this glad time 
 Of wassail bowl and church bell's chime 
 That there be those who lack for bread, 
 Who have not where to lay their head. 
 Forget not when your hearthstones glow 
 Those other hearths whose fires are low, 
 That giving where the needy are 
 Ye give to something higher far. 
 And now good-night. If, of your grace 
 Our play hath pleased you for a space 
 Right glad are we, and well content, 
 And count our labors blithely spent, 
 And wish to ye what ere befall 
 A Merrie Christmas, one and all! 
 
 *H 
 
COSTUMES 
 
 The Spirit of Yule: Long white cashmere robe, 
 
 falling in straight folds from neck, edged with 
 
 white swansdown, and bands of green ribbon. 
 
 White sandals laced with green. Angel sleeves 
 
 falling back softly from arms. Has flowing hair 
 
 and a chaplet of holly on head. Carries a tall 
 
 white staff in hand. 
 Rosamund: Quaint dress of rose colored velvet, cut 
 
 from a square neck and falling in folds to the floor. 
 
 Angel sleeves. White lace edging neck. Cap of 
 
 white lace on head. 
 Elinor: Pale blue cloth made in same fashion as 
 
 Rosamund's. 
 Frances: White brocade. Edging of brown fur and 
 
 gold. Made in same quaint fashion as other two. 
 Geoffrey: Trunk hose and suit of dark purple — the 
 
 tunic cut plain. Leather girdle and pouch at 
 
 waist. 
 Harold: Suit same style. Dark green. 
 Dame Margaret: Gray dress of woolen cloth. 
 
 Crossed white kerchief. Fifteenth Century cap. 
 
 The shoes are all in the soft pointed style of 
 
 u Romeo " slippers. 
 
226 COSTUMES 
 
 The Beggar: Dark brown ragged robe and cloak, 
 
 and a head-covering something like a monk's cowl 
 
 in that it should shadow the face. White stockings 
 
 to simulate bare feet, with coarse leather sandals 
 
 much torn and worn, and fastened with thongs. 
 
 The parts are for children from ten to fourteen. 
 
 Dame Margaret should be played by a mature-looking 
 
 child, the Beggar by some one who overtops the other 
 
 children in height, and Harold and little Elinor by 
 
 the youngest children in the cast. 
 
 Crimson light turned on in the firelight will give 
 the desired " Hearth glow " effect. 
 
14 DAY USE 
 
 RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED 
 
 LOAN DEPT. 
 
 This book is due on the last date stamped below, or 
 This booK is one h renew ed. 
 
 i5NoV64BE ' 
 
 +ifc4i^tt> 
 
 irT64^^ 
 
 LI) 21 A -60*1 
 
 General Library 
 
 University of California 
 
 Berkeley 
 
YB 31865 
 
 •"" 
 
 72929:* 
 
 9^ 
 Mi 6 ' 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA UBRARY