Read Ebook: Christmas Entertainments by Kellogg Alice Maude

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Ebook has 310 lines and 37042 words, and 7 pages

Carol's "Circulating Library."

Carol is lying in an easy-chair beside a case filled with books. The description of her room should be carried out on the stage as far as practicable.

FOURTH PICTURE.

"The children took their places."

The nine Ruggles children are seated in a row facing the audience. Mrs. Ruggles stands before them, giving instructions about their behavior at Carol's dinner party. The costumes must be fantastic, following the description in the story--green glass breastpin, the purple necktie, and much-braided hair.

FIFTH PICTURE.

"The feast being over," etc.

Carol's room is shown again. The Ruggles children are seated around Carol, with Mr. Bird and Mrs. Bird and Uncle Jack in the background.

"There stood the brilliantly lighted tree."

The same characters that appeared in the preceding scene are shown in attitudes of delight and astonishment as the second curtain is drawn aside to show the Christmas tree.

SEVENTH PICTURE.

"Softly, Uncle Jack."

The library is shown again. Mr. and Mrs. Bird, Uncle Jack, Donald, Hugh, and Paul are grouped as if listening attentively. At the right of the platform a leaded-window effect is made with a slender wood frame covered with black gauze. Behind this stands a small boy in choir vestments, holding a music book and singing "My Ain Countree" to organ accompaniment.

Merry, merry sprites are we, Dancing round the Christmas tree. We've a gift for every one Though the last one is just done.

This has been a busy year, And we hope we bring you cheer, And when Christmas comes again, Look for us--The Brownie men.

A voice from out of the northern sky: "On the wings of the limitless winds I fly. Swifter than thought, over mountain and vale, City and moorland, desert and dale! From the north to the south, from the east to the west I hasten regardless of slumber or rest; O, nothing you dream of can fly as fast As I on the wings of the windy blast!

"I enter the castle with noiseless feet-- The air is silent and soft and sweet; And I lavish my beautiful tokens there-- Fairings to make the fair more fair! I enter the cottage of want and woe-- The candle is dim and the fire burns low; But the sleepers smile in a happy dream As I scatter my gifts by the moon's pale beam.

"There's never a home so low, no doubt. But I in my flight can find it out; Not a hut so hidden but I can see The shadow cast by the lone roof-tree! There's never a home so proud and high That I am constrained to pass it by, Nor a heart so happy it may not be Happier still when blessed by me!

"What is my name? Ah, who can tell, Though in every land 'tis a magic spell? Men call me that, and they call me this; Yet the different names are the same, I wish! Gift-bearer to all the world am I, Joy-giver, light-bringer, where'er I fly; But the name I bear in the courts above, My truest and holiest name, is--LOVE!"

JULIA C.R. DORR.

Here I am again. The close of the year Brings Old Father Christmas with his good cheer I'm cheery myself, and cheery I make All folks who follow advice for my sake. My advice is the same to all my friends: Give and forgive, and quickly make amends For what you do wrong. Let love be the rule. Christians, be true at the season of Yule. Old Father Christmas every one welcomes; I bring peace and happiness to all homes. Away with the bad. Have nothing but good. Do what I tell you. If only you would, You'd all live at one in true brotherhood. I always brighten up all hearts. The spell Of Christmas can all gloomy thoughts dispel. My friends, right pleased am I to see you here. How are you all? Pray come again next year. I hope you've liked the fun we've had to-night; If so, then now applaud with all your might.

J.A. ATKINSON.

Oh, Christmas time has come again, Tra la la la, tra la la la; We welcome it with glad refrain, Tra la la la la la.

Of all the happy holidays this year There's none so joyous, none so dear, Then sing we all our song of festive glee, Of Santa Claus and Christmas tree.

I'd like to watch and see him, But I know I must wait Till shines the Christmas sunshine-- I hope he won't be late.

Old Santa Claus is such a bore, Of him we've had too much and more; Now what we want is something new, But what is there for us to do? A new St. Nick would be the thing, Who would our Christmas presents bring.

Oh! Christmas time has come again, Tra la la la, tra la la la. We welcome it with glad refrain, Tra la la la la la. Of all the happy holidays this year, There's none so joyous, none so dear, Then sing we all our song of festive glee, Of Santa Claus and Christmas tree.

And this again is Christmas day; My invitations all Have gladly been accepted; Let us see who first will call.

I'm a little Eskimo girl, I live in the land of ice, We never saw a Christmas tree Nor fruits and candies nice; But we run races o'er the snow, Beneath the big, bright moon, And from this far away ice-land, I've brought you a nice bone spoon. My father hunts all through the day For reindeer, seal, and bear, And sends away in ships so strong These furs so rich and rare, And fish, and birds, and whales, you know, I've seen them many a time, And here's a pretty fur for you That came from the arctic clime.

I'm a little Indian girl, I live in the far Northwest, In the land of the Dakotas, In the land I love the best. I've brought a nice bead-basket, I made it all. You see

I know about your Christmas A happy day to thee. And here's an arrow-head for you, And a piece of pottery queer, And here are herbs for medicine good, To make you strong, my dear.

We children shoot and fish and hunt Just as our fathers do, The whole wide forest is our home: It feeds and clothes us, too.

I'm a little Chinese girl, They say I've almond eyes, I live in a boat, on a river we float, And often eat rice and rat pies.

And here is a bamboo basket, Filled with choicest tea, I picked and dried it all myself It comes from Ken See Lee.

With us we have no Christmas, No presents nor a tree; But there in the boat, I made this toy, This, too, comes from Ken See Lee.

I'm a dark little African girl, I live in a forest land, With kinky curls and jet black eyes, I watch the elephant band.

My father hunts these animals, From one of them I bring An elephant's tusk to you, my friend, 'Twill make you a pretty ring.

And here is ebony wood for you, A cocoanut from the palm, And dates to eat, so very sweet, All from our African farm.

I'm a little Arabian girl, I live in a desert land, In tents on the plain so hot and dry, And I play on the burning sand;

Here is a pretty pearl I've brought, And an ostrich's egg so rare; An Arab pony you should have And a cloak of camel's hair.

I never hear about Christmas, And don't know what you mean, But hope you will accept these gifts, And this ostrich feather green.

And I'm a happy American girl, How thankful I should be, That Christmas is so bright a day And means so much to me.

Whatever country we are from, Whatever life we lead, We'll do our best; be good and true. And do some noble deed.

Well, well, Father Christmas, I'll do as you say, And put off my trip for the frolic to-day. Your thought of a Christmas reunion is fine For all of our relatives--yours, sir, and mine;-- So, though greatly disposed at this season to wander Afloat in the air on my very fine gander, Instead of such exercise, wholesome and hearty, I've come with great pleasure to your Christmas party.

Thanks, thanks, Mother Goose, for the honor you pay To me your old friend now this many a day; Tho' we may not, of course, on all questions agree, We're alike in our love for the children, you see: To give them delight is our greatest of pleasures, And freely we share with them best of our treasures; Our energies each of us constantly bends To keep our loved title "The Children's Two Friends."

Ah, yes, Father Christmas, my jingles and rhymes, The boys and girls know in far separate climes, And sometimes I think that your son Santa Claus Earns me more than my share of the children's applause; For wherever he goes with his wonderful pack Santa always has some of my books on his back; When from Christmas-eve dreams children's eyelids unloose Oft they find in their stockings my book, "Mother Goose."

Tis true, my dear madam, that I and my son Respect most profoundly the work you have done. The boys from our store-rooms in Christmas-tree Land, Get the bonbons we make on the Sugar-loaf Strand; The children enjoy them,--I cannot deny it,-- But still need your writings as part of their diet; Your rhymes, wise and witty, their minds will retain When their toys and their candy are done,--that is plain.

TOMMY TUCKER'S SONG.

Oh, don't you remember when children were old, And money grew up on the trees, How we lived upon nothing but cake and ice-cream. And had none but our own selves to please? We went to bed late every night of our lives, And we played every day all day long; And we never did sums, and could spell anyhow, And nobody said it was wrong!

Oh, don't you remember the naughty child grew, The good one was good all in vain, Till dear Father Christmas and Mother Goose, too, To children their duty made plain? So now we can cipher and spell with a will, And at nine we are snug in our beds, With good Father Christmas in all of our dreams, And Mother Goose songs in our heads!

SONG OF ALL NATIONS.

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