JAY T. STOCKING
It was Christmas night at Castle Havenough in the Land of Nothing
Strange. It had been a day of gifts and guests, and now the king and
queen had gone to a great dinner in the banquet hall, and the young
prince and princess were left alone to spend the rest of the day as they
chose. A great fire blazed in the fireplace. It cracked and roared and
chuckled as the young prince and princess threw in pitchy sprays of
evergreen. The Christmas tree across the room, bespangled with tinsel
and tassels and sheen, now glowed in the light of the fireplace and
gleamed and twinkled and sparkled as if every twig were set with rubies
and diamonds. The floor, the chairs, the table--everything--were heaped
high with gifts, for this young prince and princess had received
everything that they had wished for. And it was almost always
so,--whatever they wished for, they received. It seems strange to us,
indeed, that this young prince and princess were not always or
altogether happy. But it was not strange at all in the Land of Nothing
Strange.
Before the king went out to the great banquet, he called the prince and
princess to his side and putting his arms about their slender shoulders,
said, “My children, I hope you have had a happy day and have received
everything that you desire. If not, I promise you that if you can agree
exactly on what you wish, and will tell me, if money can purchase it, it
shall be yours.”
“But cannot money purchase everything, father?”
“No, my son, not quite everything.”
“But if money cannot purchase it, father?”
“Then, princess, I will try and get it for you in some other way.”
“And if you cannot?”
“Well--then I will tell the Wishing Man.”
And with that he was off. But not until he had told them that since this
was Christmas Day they might stay up just as late as they wished.
Just as late as they wished! Why, this was the very best Christmas gift
of all! Because not even princes and princesses, you know, can sit up
always, or often, just as late as they wish.
Just as late as they wished! What in the world would they do? Why,
everything, of course, in all that time. But first of all they must
decide whether there was anything more that they wished and whether they
could agree upon their wish.
So they threw themselves upon the floor at full length before the fire,
upon the great white bearskin with the head that snarled and showed his
long, gleaming, harmless teeth as if he would eat just one more thing.
With their chins resting upon their hands, and their elbows on the
floor, and the fire throwing lights and shadows on their faces, they lay
and talked.
“You wish first,” said the prince, who had not quite made up his mind
what he wished, and wanted time to think. “You are the younger, and you
are a girl. What do you wish?”
“Well, I wish that all the snow were sugar and all the mud were
chocolate. Don’t you?”
“No, of course not. Why, you couldn’t coast! The runners would stick,
and if you ran and fell upon your sled you would go heels over head, and
like as not you would break your neck. Besides, there wouldn’t be any
sugar in summer, and there would be no chocolate except when it rained.”
“I never thought of that,” said the princess. “What do _you_ wish?”
“I wish that--that--my Christmas stocking were as tall as this house and
I had to take a ladder to get up to it and another ladder to get down
into it. Don’t you?”
“Why, no, of course not.”
“Why not?”
“Why, because the Christmas stocking is just the same size as all your
other stockings, and if your Christmas stocking were as big as the
house, all your other stockings would be as big as the house, and you
never could get one on; and if you did get it on it would go clear over
your head.”
“That’s so,” said the prince; “I never thought of that. Well, what _do_
you wish?”
“Well, I wish--that every day was Christmas, and there wasn’t any
school. Don’t you?”
“No! If there wasn’t any school, you’d be a dunce. And who wants to be a
dunce? I’ll tell you what _I_ wish.”
“What?”
“I wish that every day was just as nice as Christmas, but different.
Different, you know, but just as nice. That’s what I wish.”
“So do I.”
And so they agreed upon their wish,--that every day should be like
Christmas--different, but just as nice. And they would tell that wish to
their father in the morning.
“But do you suppose that money can purchase it, prince?”
“I don’t know. I--I’m afraid it can’t. But father said he would tell the
Wishing Man. I wonder what he looks like; I should like to see him.”
“So should I.”
Just then there was a commotion in the fireplace. It sounded as if the
wood had fallen forward on the andirons. And so it had. But something
else had happened. On the backlog, which was blazing fiercely, there sat
a funnier little man than you would see in going around the world. He
was red from the top of his cap to the tip of his boot; his coat, which
was flung over his little red wings, was red. His face was red, but
perhaps that was just a reflection from the coals of the fire. You would
think that he would have burned up or that he would have jumped out of
the fireplace in a hurry. But he didn’t do anything of the sort. It
seems very strange, but it was not strange at all in the Land of Nothing
Strange. As he sat there upon that blazing backlog, his hands upon his
knees, with the flames leaping around him, and his feet resting down in
the red-hot coals, you would have said that this was the most
comfortable seat that he had ever found in all his life.
“Well?” the little man drawled.
“Well?” drawled the prince and princess, as they drew back on their
elbows and sat up in amazement.
“Well? I’m here.”
“Who’s here?” asked the prince.
“Why, _I_ am here. You said you would like to see what I looked like,
and so I have come. _I’m_ here.”
“Are you the Wishing Man?” asked the princess.
“That’s my name.” And then he broke into a snatch of a song:
“I have wishbones on my fingers,
I have myst’ry in my eyes;
My clothes are lined with four-leaf clovers
And are stained with magic dyes.
“I have pockets full of rabbits’ feet,
And amulets and charms;
Just for luck I pick up horseshoes;
I have tattoos on my arms.
“I know a world of wonders,
And if you would believe,
I have fortunes in my wallet
And surprises up my sleeve.
“I come from a distant country,
Away up near the sky,
From the golden palace, Overhead,
In the land of Wonder Why.
“I’m the best of friends of children,
And I’ll help _you_ if I can;
Now tell me what your wishes are,
For I’m the Wishing Man.”
They told him that they had decided to wish that every day should be
just as nice as Christmas--different, but, then, just as nice.
“That is a good wish,” said the Wishing Man. “I hope that you will get
it, but you never can tell.”
“You never can tell! Arn’t you the Wishing Man? Don’t you know? Don’t
you give folks their wishes?”
“Oh, no! I am not wise enough for that. The Angel of Blessings does
that. I merely go through the world and carry to him all the wishes that
I hear people make.”
“How do you carry them?” asked the prince.
“Oh, right here,” and he pointed to a little jeweled box that he had at
his belt. “Right here. You see I have a padlock on it and I never lose a
wish.”
“Are you the only wishing man in the world?” asked the princess.
“Oh, bless my soul, no! If I were, do you think I would have time to sit
here on this nice cool seat and chat with you? There are a great many of
us, but we all look just alike, we are all dressed just alike, and we
are all twins.”
That seems strange, but it was not strange at all in the Land of Nothing
Strange.
“My country is the country of Wonder Why. I come here every morning, and
I stay till I have my little box full of wishes, and then I take it
back. By the way, I see that it is full now, and your wish is right on
top. Would you like to go with me to see the Angel of Blessings? Those
who talk with him are most apt to have their wishes granted. Many folks
do not get their wishes just because they do not seem to understand how
to get them. Would you like to go with me?”
“Is it very far?” asked the prince. “Could we get back before bedtime?”
“Oh, yes, with time to spare.”
“Shouldn’t we be cold?” asked the princess.
“No, we would fly very fast, and we shouldn’t have time to shiver more
than once before we got there. Come, then, get on my back,” and he
tucked his red coat between his little red wings, which he shook out,
and made ready to fly.
“Now part your hair in the middle so you won’t be any heavier on one
side than on the other. Step right in here; the fire won’t hurt you.
Now, prince, put your right arm around my neck like this, and hold on to
my left wing with your left hand,--so, and princess, put your left arm
around my neck and hold on to my right wing with your right hand,--so.
Now, ready.”
Up they went, and off they went, through the frosty air, faster than the
fastest aëroplane. Below them lay the beautiful white snow; above them
hung the beautiful white stars. They had just shivered once and were
nearly ready to shiver again when the Wishing Man folded his red wings
and they landed upon the doorstep of the golden palace, Overhead, in the
Land of Wonder Why.
The Wishing Man took them by the hand, one on either side, walked up the
white marble steps, opened the great doors, which swung at a touch, and
stepped inside. This was the palace, Overhead. Anybody could see that
this was the House of Wishes. Why, there was everything here that
anybody had ever wished for or ever could wish for. Down the side here
at the right there were great possessions. There were carloads of gold
heaped up, and carloads of silver heaped up, and there were
houses--every kind of house--and there were farms that reached away just
as far as the sun shone, and there were gardens in which there was every
kind of flower that anybody had ever seen grow in any place in the
world. Over on the other side were things to wear and things to eat;
there were gowns and furs and hats and suits, and beyond these there
were bricks of ice cream as big as ice cakes,--just for one! And plum
puddings as big as your head,--just for one! And whole mince pies that
you could eat and never see anything afterward. Before them, across the
room, were the very best things of life, the very best of all, just
plain something to eat, happy days and sleepy nights, and good
friends,--just the things that men like most. These things that I have
mentioned were simply what you could see right in the first rows, but
behind these things at the right and left and over in front,--there is
nobody who ever lived who could tell you all that was there, because, as
I have told you, there was everything that anybody had ever wished for,
and everything that anybody _could_ ever wish for.
Now, right in the center of the hall, to which a golden carpet ran,
there was a platform, and upon the platform a great white desk, bright
as the moon, and at the desk, clothed in white, sat the Angel of
Blessings. At the right of the Angel of Blessings stood his messengers.
He called them pages. The line was sometimes short and sometimes long.
They wore no uniform. Some were rich and some were poor, some had
beautiful clothes and some had ragged clothes, but the face of every one
shone like a star, and it was their duty to carry blessings and wishes
to people who had got their wish.
Upon that golden carpet, that ran from the door to the platform, the
little red Wishing Men were continually passing each other as they came
up to the desk to leave their wishes and went out again to listen for
more. All day, all night, they came and went, came and went, and all day
and all night the Angel of Blessings, clad in white, at the great white
desk, opened the wishes and read them. Sometimes he shook his head
sorrowfully, and even frowned; sometimes he smiled and nodded! When he
frowned or looked sorrowful it meant that the wish was lost, and he
dropped it into the huge waste-basket at his left and it fell to the
bottom of the earth. But when he smiled and nodded, it meant that the
wish was granted, and he handed it to one of his pages waiting at the
right, who fell upon one knee, took the wish, and carried it to the
wisher.
The Wishing Man took the prince and the princess by the hand, walked
along the golden carpet to the great white desk upon the platform, and
announced the visitors to the Angel of Blessings: “Prince and Princess
Havenough from the Land of Nothing Strange.” Then the prince and
princess, who, of course, had been trained in court, made their most
beautiful bow, but spoke no word until the Angel of Blessings had spoken
to them. The Wishing Man laid upon the desk the wish which they had made
and which he had carried in his little golden casket, and then he
retired with many a bow until the Angel should summon him again.
“Prince and Princess Havenough,” said the Angel as he read the wish and
smiled, “it is a good wish. It will be granted, on _one_ condition--that
you will be my pages, carry my blessings, and take the wishes which I
send to those who have their wishes granted. Will you be my pages?”
“Must one go very far, Mr. Angel?” asked the prince, “because we are
small; we have never traveled far; we don’t know where many places are.”
“Oh, not at all, prince,” said the Angel; “merely to the Land of Nothing
Strange--to your home, to your friends, to your acquaintances. Will you
be my pages?”
“We will, Mr. Angel,” and they bowed.
“Then stand here at my right. I may have some commissions for you now.
Let me look at these wishes which have just been brought to me. Here is
a wish from a little boy in the Land of Nothing Strange, not far from
Castle Havenough. He wishes that he had a pair of skates; he hasn’t any;
all his friends have some.”
“He may have a pair of mine,” said the prince. “I will take them to
him.”
“Good!” said the Angel; “his wish is granted.” And he handed the wish to
the prince with the name and the address of the wisher.
“Let me see; here is a wish from a little girl in the Land of Nothing
Strange, not far from Castle Havenough. She wishes that she had a doll.
She asked Santa Claus for one last night and he didn’t bring it to-day.
He must have forgotten it. She wants one very much.”
“She may have one of mine! I have very many,” said the princess.
“Good!” said the Angel; “it is granted.”
And he handed the wish to the princess, with the name and the address of
the wisher.
“Here is another,” said the Angel. “It is from the teachers and the
servants of Castle Havenough. They wish that they were happier,--that
the prince and the princess were somewhat more thoughtful and kind.
Shall their wish be granted?”
“We will try, Mr. Angel.”
“Good! And here is one from the royal house. I see the seal. Why, it is
from the King and Queen of the Land of Nothing Strange. ‘We wish that
our son and daughter were more dutiful, thoughtful, loving, and kind.’
Shall the wish be granted, pages?”
“We will try, Mr. Angel.”
“Good! That is enough for to-night. To-morrow I shall have some more
blessings for you to carry. Every day I will send you some, so long as
you are in my service. And I promise you that every day will be as happy
as Christmas,--different, but just as nice. Wait a minute.” And then he
wrote something on a card and handed it to them,--he called it their
COMMISSION
“Be it known to all those who may read this short line,
That the prince and the princess are pages of mine;
They carry my blessings, will seek what you wish,
Will be kind and regardful, polite, unselfish.
For wages, I now and hereafter decree,
Their days shall be happy as happy can be.”
Then he pressed a little golden button, and the Wishing Man came and
took the prince and princess by the hand and led them down the golden
carpet to the great door, and in less time than it takes to tell you
they were back again, and down again upon the skin of the great white
bear, which still lay snarling and showing his teeth at the flickering
fire.
The Wishing Man wanted to be off, but the prince and princess asked him
so eagerly to sing again that he finally consented to sing what he had
sung before,--“Just by way of encore,” he said:
“I have wishbones on my fingers,
I have myst’ry in my eyes;
My clothes are lined with four-leaf clovers
And are stained with magic dyes.
“I have pockets full of rabbits’ feet,
And amulets and charms;
Just for luck I pick up horseshoes,
I have tattoos on my arms.
“I know a world of wonders,
And if you would believe,
I have fortunes in my wallet
And surprises up my sleeve.
“I come from a distant country,
Away up near the sky,
From the golden palace, Overhead,
In the land of Wonder Why.
“I’m the best of friends of children,
And I’ll help _you_ if I can;
Now tell me what your wishes are,
For I’m the Wishing Man.”
And then he was gone.
It may be that it was a very long, tiresome journey to the palace; it
may be that the cold had made the prince and princess very sleepy; it
may have been due to something else. At any rate, when the servants came
at ten o’clock and opened the door softly, the prince and princess lay
fast asleep before the fire, which was burning very low, and the clock
was tick-tock, tick-tocking very loud indeed.
What the prince and princess told the king in the morning, how long they
were pages of the Angel of Blessings, how many people they carried
blessings to, I cannot tell; I never heard. But this I know: that night,
and for many days after, the servants and the teachers said that it
seemed to them the prince and princess were kinder than usual, and the
king and the queen not long after were heard to say they never in their
lives _had_ seen the prince and princess so loving and so happy.
KRISS KRINGLE[9]
THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH
Just as the moon was fading
Amid her misty rings,
And every stocking was stuffed
With childhood’s precious things,
Old Kriss Kringle looked around,
And saw on the elm-tree bough,
High hung, an oriole’s nest,
Silent and empty now.
“Quite like a stocking,” he laughed,
“Pinned up there on the tree!
Little I thought the birds
Expected a present from me!”
Then old Kriss Kringle, who loves
A joke as well as the best,
Dropped a handful of flakes
In the oriole’s empty nest.
THE STAR OF BETHLEHEM
ELEANOR L. SKINNER
The radiant star in the East had done its work. It had guided the
shepherds and the Wise Men to the manger where the heavenly Child lay in
Mary’s arms. The people, who had watched its light with solemn wonder,
and had whispered to each other about its beauty and meaning, had gone
to rest. Suddenly in the eastern sky there was a breaking up of the
glorious light into millions of shining points. A shower of silver and
gold fell to the earth.
An old man with a long white beard saw the wonder. “The star in the East
has gone!” he sighed. “The glory of the skies has vanished!”
Morning dawned. Happy little children ran to the fields to gather
flowers. The sunny meadows glistened with hundreds of little star-like
blossoms.
“How beautiful!” cried the children, clapping their little hands for
joy. “Let us gather some flowers, and take a gift to the Mother and
little Babe.”
They filled their arms with the starry blossoms and started to the
manger. On their way they met the old man with the long white beard. He
stopped for a moment and looked at the happy children. A strange light
came into his eyes; he bowed his head and whispered, “The star of
Bethlehem has burst into blossoms! The glory of the skies has come to
abide on earth!”
NUTCRACKER AND MOUSE KING
EDWARD THEODOR WILLIAM HOFFMANN
It was Christmas Eve. Marie and Fritz sat cuddled together in a corner
of the back parlor, for they had not been permitted during the whole day
to go even into the small drawing room, much less into the best drawing
room into which it opened. The deep evening twilight had come and they
began to feel almost afraid. Seeing that no Christmas candles were
brought in, Fritz whispered to his sister Marie, who was just seven,
that he had heard rattlings and rustlings going on all day in the closed
room, as well as distant hammerings, and that not long before, a little
dark looking man with a big box under his arm had gone slipping and
creeping across the floor. He well knew that this little man was no
other than Godpapa Drosselmeier. At this news Marie clapped her little
hands for gladness and cried:
“Oh, I do wonder what pretty things Godpapa Drosselmeier has been making
for us this time!”
Godpapa Drosselmeier was anything but a nice looking man. He was little
and lean, with a great many wrinkles on his face, a big patch of black
plaster over his right eye, and not a hair on his head. He wore a fine
white wig, made of glass. But he was a very, very clever man, for he
knew and understood all about clocks and watches, and could make them
himself. So when one of the beautiful clocks in Fritz and Marie’s home
was out of sorts and couldn’t sing, Godpapa Drosselmeier would come,
take off his glass periwig and his little yellow coat, put on a blue
apron, and begin to stick sharp-pointed instruments into the inside of
the clock. Of course, whenever he came he always brought something
delightful in his pockets for Marie and Fritz--perhaps a little man who
could roll his eyes and make bows and scrapes, most comic to behold, or
a box out of which a little bird would jump. But for Christmas time he
had invariably prepared some especially wonderful invention.
“Oh! what can Godpapa Drosselmeier have been making for us this time!”
Marie said again.
“I’m sure this time,” said Fritz, “it must be a great castle, a
fortress, where all sorts of pretty soldiers are drilling and marching
about, then other soldiers come to try and get into the fortress, upon
which the soldiers inside fire away at them with cannon until
everything bangs and thunders like anything.”
“No, no,” said Marie. “Godpapa Drosselmeier once told me about a
beautiful garden with a lake in it, and beautiful swans swimming about
with great gold collars, singing lovely music. And then a lovely little
girl comes down through the garden to the lake, and calls the swans and
feeds them with shortbread and cake.”
“Swans don’t eat cake and shortbread,” Fritz cried, “and Godpapa
Drosselmeier couldn’t make a whole garden.”
The children went on trying to guess what he might have in store for
them this time. Marie told Fritz that her biggest doll had altered very
much. She was more clumsy and awkward than ever, for she tumbled on to
the floor every two or three minutes. Fritz said that a good fox was
lacking in his collection of animals, and that his army of soldiers was
quite without a cavalry, as his papa well knew. But the children knew
that their elders had all sorts of charming things ready for them. They
remembered, too, that the Christ Child at Christmas time took special
care of their wants and knew best what gift would bring them true
happiness.
Marie sat in thoughtful silence; but Fritz murmured quietly to himself:
“But for all that, I do want a fox and some hussars.”
It was now quite dark. Fritz and Marie, sitting close together, did not
dare to utter another word. They felt as if there were a fluttering of
gentle, unseen wings around them, while a very far-away music could be
heard. Then a bright gleam of light passed quickly across the wall and
the children knew that the Christ Child was being borne away on shining
clouds to other happy children. At this moment a silvery bell rang out
“Kling-ling! Kling-ling!” the doors flew open, and a brilliant light
came streaming from the drawing room.
“Oh! Oh!” cried the children, clapping their hands.
But papa and mamma came and took their hands, saying, “Come, now,
darlings, and see what the blessed Christ Child has brought for you.”
The two children stood speechless, with brilliant glances fixed on all
the beautiful things before them. After a while Marie, with a sigh,
cried, “Oh! How lovely! How lovely!” and Fritz gave several jumps of
delight. The children had certainly been very, very good, for never had
so many beautiful and delightful things been provided for them as at
this Christmas. The great Christmas tree on the table bore many apples
of silver and gold, and all its branches were heavy with bud and
blossom, consisting of sugar almonds, many tinted bon-bons, and all
sorts of charming things to eat. In all the recesses of its branches
hundreds of little tapers glittered like stars! How many beautiful
things there were! Marie gazed at the loveliest dolls, and all kinds of
toys, and a little silk dress, with many tinted ribbons, hung from a
projecting branch. “Oh, the lovely, lovely dress,” she cried. Fritz, in
the meantime, had had two or three trials around the table to see how
his new fox could gallop. “I believe it’s a wild beast,” he said, “but
that’s no matter. I can frighten him already.” He set to work to muster
his new hussars, well equipped in red and gold uniforms with real silver
swords and mounted on such shining white horses that you would have
thought them of pure silver.
When the children had become a little quieter there came another
tinkling of a bell, and they knew that Godpapa Drosselmeier would show
them his Christmas presents, which were on another table, against the
wall, concealed by a curtain. When this curtain was drawn, what did the
children behold?
On a green lawn, bright with flowers, stood a beautiful castle with a
great many shining windows and golden towers. A chime of bells was going
on inside it, doors and windows opened, and you saw very small ladies
and gentlemen with plumed hats and long robes, walking up and down in
the rooms.
Fritz stood looking at the beautiful castle, his arms leaning upon the
table. In a little while he said, “Godpapa Drosselmeier, let me go into
your castle.”
“That can’t be done, little Fritz,” was his answer. “The castle is not
as tall as yourself, golden towers and all.”
“Well, then, make the man with the green cloak, who is always looking
from the window, walk about with the others.”
“And that can’t be done, either,” said his godpapa once more; “it can’t
be altered, you know.”
“Oh,” said Fritz, “it can’t be done? Very well, if your little creatures
in the castle can only always do the same thing, they’re not very much!”
So he went back to his Christmas table to play with his hussars.
Marie, too, was soon tired of the little castle people, though she did
not like to show it as her brother did. At last, however, she also
crept back to the table where the Christmas presents were laid out, for
she had just noticed there among Fritz’s soldiers an excellent little
man, standing still and modest as if he were waiting patiently until
some one should notice him. In regard to his appearance, there was much
that was objectionable, for his body was rather too tall and stout for
his little thin legs, and his head was a great deal too large. But the
elegance of the little gentleman’s costume showed him to be a person of
taste and cultivation. He had on a very pretty violet hussar’s jacket,
and the loveliest little boots ever seen. It was certainly funny that,
dressed in such style as he was, he wore a rather absurd short cloak on
his shoulders which looked as if it were made of wood and on his head he
wore a miner’s cap. Nevertheless, as Marie kept looking at this little
man she saw more and more clearly what a sweet disposition was legible
on his countenance. His green eyes spoke only kindness, and the nicely
curled white cotton beard on his chin drew attention to the sweet smile
which his bright lips always expressed.
“Oh, papa, dear,” cried Marie at last, “whose is that most darling
little man beside the tree?”
“That little fellow, my dear, will work hard for you all; he’s going to
crack nuts for you.” With that, Marie’s father took him from the table,
and when he raised the wooden cloak the little man opened his mouth.
Marie put in a nut, and with a crack the little man bit it in pieces. He
had to crack a great many nuts. Marie picked out the smallest ones, but
Fritz gave him all the biggest and hardest nuts he could find. But all
at once there was a crack! crack! and three little teeth fell out of
Nutcracker’s mouth; and his chin became loose and shaky.
“Ah! my poor Nutcracker!” Marie cried as she gathered up the lost teeth,
bound a pretty white ribbon about his poor chin, and wrapped the poor
little fellow tenderly in her handkerchief. In this way she held him,
rocking him like a child in her arms, as she looked at her picture
books.
Marie and Fritz were allowed to keep their playthings in the glass
cupboard in the sitting room. Fritz soon tired of playing with his
hussars and placed them on the upper shelf, and Marie put her dolls in
the beautiful doll’s room on the lower shelf. It had become almost
midnight, and their mother had aroused the children to go to bed. Fritz
obeyed, but Marie begged for just a little while longer, saying she had
such a number of things to see to and promising that as soon as ever she
had got them all settled she would go to bed at once. Marie was a good
girl and her mother allowed her to remain a little longer with her toys,
but fearing lest Marie should be too much occupied with her new doll and
other playthings to think of the lights, her mother put all of them out,
leaving only the lamp which hung from the ceiling and which shed a soft
light over everything.
As soon as Marie was alone she carefully unbound the ribbon around
Nutcracker’s head and examined his wounds.
“Oh, my darling Nutcracker,” she said, “I’ll take the best care of you,
for I am really fond of you. Your teeth shall be put back and your
shoulder made right again.” She took him in her arms again, went to the
cupboard, and said to her new doll:
“Clara, you will give up your bed to this poor, sick, wounded
Nutcracker, I’m sure.” Miss Clara in her Christmas dress looked very
disdainful, but Marie took the bed and moved it forward, laid Nutcracker
carefully upon it, and placed them on the upper shelf near the village
in which Fritz’s hussars were resting. She was about to close the
cupboard door when--hark! there began a low, soft rustling and rattling
all around, behind the stove, under the chairs, behind the cupboards.
The clock on the wall warned louder and louder, but it could not strike.
Marie looked at it, and saw that the big gilt owl which was on the top
had drooped its wings so that they covered the whole of the clock. And
the warning of the clock kept growing louder and louder, with distinct
words: “Clocks, stop ticking. Mousey king’s ears are fine. Prr-prr! Only
sing ‘poom, poom.’ Bells go chime! Soon rings out the fated time!”
Marie grew terribly frightened and was going to rush away as quickly as
she could when she noticed that Godpapa Drosselmeier was up on top of
the clock instead of the owl.
“Godpapa Drosselmeier,” she called out as soon as she composed herself.
“What are you doing up there, you naughty, naughty godpapa?”
But then there began a strange scampering and squeaking everywhere, all
about, and presently there was a sound of running and trotting as of
thousands of little feet behind the walls, and at the same time
thousands of little lights began to glitter out between the chinks of
the woodwork. But they were not lights, no, no,--little glittering eyes;
and Marie said that everywhere mice were peeping and squeezing
themselves out through every chink. Presently they were trotting and
galloping in all directions all over the room.
Marie was not afraid of mice, and she could not help being amused by
this sight. She stood watching the mice come from all directions when
suddenly there came a sharp and terrible piping noise and seven mouse
heads with seven shining crowns upon them, rose through the floor and
behind them wriggled a mouse’s body on which the seven heads had all
grown. Then the whole army of mice shouted in full chorus and went trot,
trot, trot! right up to the cupboard--in fact, to Marie who was standing
beside it.
Half frightened, Marie leaned back against the cupboard door and there
was a klirr, klirr, klirr! What was happening? Right behind Marie a
movement seemed to commence in the cupboard and small, faint voices
began to be heard, saying:
“Come, awake, measures take,
Out to the fight, out to the fight;
Shield the right, shield the right,
Arm and away, this is the night,”
and bells began ringing as prettily as you please.
“Oh, that’s my little peal of bells,” cried Marie, and she went nearer
and looked in. Then she saw that there was a bright light in the
cupboard and everything there was astir. Dolls and little figures of all
kinds were running about together and struggling with their little arms.
All at once Nutcracker rose from his bed, cast off the bed clothes and
sprang with both feet to the floor (of the shelf), calling out:
“Knack, knack, knack:
Stupid mousey pack.”
And with this he drew his little sword, waved it in the air, and cried:
“My trusty followers, are you ready to stand by me in the battle?”
Instantly, three clowns, one pantaloon, four chimney sweeps, and a
drummer cried, “Yes, yes, we follow you, Nutcracker,” and then they
threw themselves down from the upper shelf after the brave Nutcracker.
“But what is going to happen now?” thought Marie. At this moment
Nutcracker sprang down, and the squeaking and piping commenced again,
worse than ever. Under the big table the mouse army was massed under the
command of the terrible mouse king. What was to be the result?
“Beat the _generale_, drummer,” called out Nutcracker. Immediately the
drummer began to roll his drum in the most splendid style so that the
windows of the glass cupboard rattled and resounded. Then there began a
cracking and a clattering inside, and Marie saw all the lids of the
boxes in which Fritz’s army was quartered burst open and the soldiers
came out and jumped down to the bottom of the shelf, where they formed
up in good order. Nutcracker hurried up and down the ranks, speaking
words of encouragement. Then turning to Pantaloon, who was looking
rather pale and wobbling his long chin, he said:
“I know you are a brave and experienced general. I intrust you,
Pantaloon, with the command of the cavalry and artillery. You can do
without a horse; your own legs are long and you can gallop as fast as it
is necessary. Do your duty!”
Immediately Pantaloon put his long, lean fingers to his mouth and gave a
piercing whistle that rang as if a hundred little trumpets had been
sounding lustily.
Then there began a tramping and neighing in the cupboard, and Fritz’s
new, glittering hussars marched out and came to a halt on the floor.
They marched past Nutcracker by regiments, with flags flying and bands
playing; then they wheeled into line and formed at right angles to the
march. And now boomed Fritz’s cannon with a pum, pum, pum! shooting
sugarplums constantly under the mice. Poom, poom! again, and a fine fire
of gingerbread nuts went into the enemy’s ranks, scattering the mice in
all directions. Still the mice displayed continually more forces. Their
little silver balls, which they delivered with great precision, went
even inside the glass cupboard. You’ve no idea of the hurly-burly that
went on. It went prr-prr-poof, piff, boom-booroom! Pantaloon had made
several most brilliant cavalry charges and covered himself with glory.
But Fritz’s hussars were pelted by the mice’s silver balls, which made
bad spots on their red waistcoats. This made them hesitate and hang back
for a time. Pantaloon made them take ground to the left, and in the
excitement of the moment they all wheeled round and marched home to
their quarters.
“The reserves shall come out!” cried Nutcracker, who hoped that more
troops would come out from the glass cupboard. And there did, in fact,
advance some brown gingerbread men and women, with gilt faces, hats, and
helmets, but they fought so clumsily that they never hit any of the mice
and soon knocked off the cap of Nutcracker himself. Poor Nutcracker was
now hard pressed and closely surrounded by enemies. He tried to jump
the bottom ledge of the cupboard, but his legs were not long enough.
“A horse! A horse! My kingdom for a horse!”
At that moment two of the enemies seized him by his wonder cloak, and
the king of the mice went rushing up to him, squeaking in triumph.
Marie could contain herself no longer. “Oh, my poor Nutcracker!” she
sobbed. She took off her left shoe, without distinctly knowing what she
was about, and threw it as hard as she could into the thick of the
enemy, straight at mouse king. Instantly everything vanished and all was
silence. But there stood Nutcracker, with his sword in his hand. He fell
upon one knee and said, “It was you, and you only, dearest lady, who
inspired me with knightly valor. To you alone I owe my life. If you will
take the trouble to follow me for a few steps, what glorious and
beautiful things I could show you. Oh, do come with me, dearest lady!”
TOYLAND
“I will go with you, dear Nutcracker,” said Marie, “but it mustn’t be
far, and must not be for long, because, you know, I haven’t had any
sleep yet.”
“Then we will go by the shortest way,” said Nutcracker, “although it is
perhaps the most difficult.”
He went on in front, followed by Marie, till he stopped before the big
old wardrobe which stood in the hall. Marie was surprised to see that,
though it was generally shut, the doors of it were now wide open. Her
father’s fur traveling cloak hung in front. Nutcracker climbed up this
cloak by the edgings and trimmings, and got hold of the big tassel which
was fastened at the back of it by a thick cord. He gave this tassel a
tug, and a pretty little ladder of cedar wood let itself quickly down
through one of the armholes of the cloak.
“Step up that ladder, if you’ll be so kind,” said Nutcracker. Marie did
so. But as soon as she had gone up through the armhole, and began to
look out at the neck, a dazzling light came streaming on to her, and she
found herself standing on a lovely sweet-scented meadow, from which
millions of sparks were streaming upward like the glitter of beautiful
gems.
“This is Candy Meadow where we are now,” said Nutcracker. “But we’ll go
in at that gate there.”
Marie looked up, and saw a beautiful gateway on the meadow, only a few
steps off. It seemed to be made of white, brown, and raisin-colored
marble; but when she came close to it she saw it was all of baked
sugar-almonds and raisins, which--as Nutcracker said when they were
going through it--was the reason it was called Almond and Raisin Gate.
Presently the sweetest of odors came breathing round her, streaming from
a beautiful little wood on both sides of the way. There was such a
glittering and sparkling among the dark foliage that one could see all
the gold and silver fruits hanging on the many-tinted stems, and these
stems and branches were all ornamented and dressed up in ribbons and
bunches of flowers.
“Oh, how charming this is!” cried Marie.
“This is Christmas Wood,” said Nutcracker.
“Ah,” said Marie, “if I only could stay for a little! Oh, it is so
lovely!”
Nutcracker clapped his little hands, and immediately there appeared a
number of little shepherds and shepherdesses, and hunters and
huntresses, so white and delicate that you would have thought they were
made of pure sugar, although they had been walking about in the wood.
They brought a beautiful golden easy-chair for Marie, and invited her to
take a seat. As soon as she did so the shepherds and shepherdesses
danced a pretty ballet, for which the hunters and huntresses played the
music on their horns, and then they all disappeared amongst the
thickets.
“Had we not better go on a little farther?” asked Nutcracker.
“Oh, I’m sure it was most delightful,” said Marie, as she stood up and
followed Nutcracker, who was going on, leading the way. They walked by
the side of a sweet babbling brook, which seemed to be what was giving
out all the perfume which filled the wood.
“This is Orange Brook,” said Nutcracker, “but, except for its sweet
scent, it is nothing like as fine a water as the River Lemonade, a
beautiful broad stream which falls--as this one does--into Almond-milk
Sea.” And, indeed, Marie soon heard a louder splashing and rushing, and
came in sight of the River Lemonade, which went rolling along in
swelling waves of yellowish color, between banks covered with herbage
and underwood. A short distance farther, on the banks of this stream,
stood a nice little village. The houses were all dark brown, with gilded
roofs so gay that one might suppose that they were plastered over with
lemon peel and shelled almonds.
“That is Gingerbread Valley on the Honey River,” said Nutcracker. “It is
known for the good looks of its people, but they are very
short-tempered, because they suffer so much from toothache. So we will
not go there, nor, indeed, visit all the little towns and villages or
country. Let us be off to the capital.”
He stepped quickly onwards, and Marie followed him until they came to a
great lake which kept broadening and broadening out wider and wider and
on which the loveliest swans, white as silver--with colors of gold--were
floating everywhere. Nutcracker clapped his little hands and the waves
of the lake began to sound louder and splash higher, and at once there
came a large shell barge made of precious stones of every color and
drawn by two dolphins with scales of gold. It carried her and Nutcracker
over the lake.
Oh, how beautiful it was when Marie went onward there over the waters in
the shell-shaped barge, with the rose perfume breathing around her, and
the rosy waves splashing! But she could not restrain a cry of admiration
and astonishment as she now found herself all of a sudden before a
castle, brightly lighted and splendid with a hundred beautiful towers.
Here and there upon its walls were rich bouquets of violets, narcissus,
tulips, and carnations. The great dome as well as the roofs of the
towers were set all over with thousands of sparkling gold and silver
stars.
“Aha!” said Nutcracker, “here we are at Marzipan Castle at last.”
Marie was lost in admiration of this magic palace. The fact did not
escape her that the roof was wanting to one of the tallest towers, and
that little men, upon a scaffold of sticks of cinnamon, were busy
putting it on again. But before she had time to ask Nutcracker about
this, beautiful music was heard and out came twelve little pages with
lighted clove sticks, which they held in their little hands as torches.
After them came four ladies about the size of Marie’s Christmas doll,
but so gorgeously and brilliantly dressed that Marie saw in a moment
they could be nothing but princesses. They embraced Nutcracker most
tenderly, and cried at once, “O dearest prince! Beloved brother!”
Nutcracker seemed deeply affected. Then he took Marie by the hand and
said, “Here is the noble preserver of my life. Had she not thrown her
slipper in the nick of time, I should have been captured by the enemy.”
Then they embraced Marie and said, “Ah! Noble preserver of our beloved
royal brother! Come into the castle and rest yourself while we prepare
some food.”
Marie and Nutcracker were conducted into the castle, and while the
princesses were setting forth a dainty repast, Nutcracker related the
adventures of his fight with the mouse king. He told how everything
would have gone against him if Marie had not come to his rescue. During
all this time it seemed to Marie as if what Nutcracker was saying kept
growing more and more indistinct, and going farther and farther away.
Presently she saw a silver mistiness rising up all about, like clouds in
which the princesses, the pages, Nutcracker, and she herself were
floating. And a curious singing and buzzing and humming began, which
seemed to die away in the distance, and then she seemed to be going
up--up--up, as if in waves constantly rising and swelling higher and
higher, higher and higher and higher. And then came a prr--poof! and all
was gone.
That was a crash and a tumble!
However, Marie opened her eyes, and, lo and behold, there she was in her
own bed!
Of course, you see how it was. Marie, confounded and amazed by all the
wonderful things she had seen, had fallen asleep at last in Marzipan
Castle, and no doubt the princesses themselves had carried her home and
put her to bed.
A VISIT FROM ST. NICHOLAS
CLEMENT C. MOORE
’Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugarplums danced through their heads;
And mamma in her kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave a luster of midday to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
“Now, _Dasher_! now, _Dancer_! now, _Prancer_ and _Vixen_!
On, _Comet_! on, _Cupid_! on, _Donder_ and _Blitzen_!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now, dash away! dash away! dash away all!”
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly.
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the housetop the coursers they flew,
With a sleigh full of Toys, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof,
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes--how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
“_Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!_”
CHRISTMAS IN MANY LANDS
TIME: Christmas Eve
PLACE: A living room in a German cottage. A Christmas tree stands
at one side. As the curtain rises, a small boy and girl in German
costume are trimming the tree and singing.
HANS and GRETCHEN sing:
Santa Claus to-morrow comes,
Bringing gifts in plenty;
Drums and trumpets, guns--a score,
Flags and sabers and still more,
Yes, a whole great army corps--
Would it might be plenty!
Bring us, dear old Santa Claus--
Do not pass us blindly--
Musketeer and grenadier,
Grizzly bear with panther near,
Horse and donkey, sheep and steer--
Bring us all these kindly.
HANS: I wish St. Nicholas would hurry up and come! I think he is
dreadfully slow.
GRETCHEN: He won’t come while we’re here, I’m afraid. Besides, he has so
far to travel! Only think how many places he has to go!
HANS: Does he visit all the little children all over the world?
GRETCHEN: Why, of course! (_Slowly._) At least, I suppose so.
HANS: Do all the children have Christmas trees?
GRETCHEN: Oh! I hope so. Wouldn’t it be too bad not to have a tree on
Christmas?
HANS: _I_ think it would be fun to have an airship and go about the
world to-night and see what all the little children are doing.
GRETCHEN: Where would you like to go?
HANS: I’d like to fly over the sea and visit Cousin Heinrich in America.
GRETCHEN: I’d be afraid to fly so far. I’d go to Holland; it’s such a
little way.
HANS: Oh! I’d fly up in the mountains of Switzerland.
GRETCHEN (_thoughtfully_): I think I’d rather have the children come and
tell us about their Christmas. I’d be afraid in an airship.
HANS (_eagerly_): Let’s shut our eyes and wish they would come. They’ll
be sure to if we wish hard on Christmas Eve. We’ll have a Christmas
party!
(_Both children shut their eyes and are silent. A fairy enters. She is
dressed in white, spangled with gilt. She has a star on her forehead and
carries a wand. She dances about the stage, singing; then stands in
front of the children. She waves her wand over them, and they open
their eyes._)
GRETCHEN (_rising in surprise_): Who are you, Fairy?
FAIRY: I am the Christmas fairy, and I have come to answer your wish. I
grant all the wishes that good children make on Christmas Eve.
HANS (_earnestly_): Oh, dear Fairy, will children really come from
America and from Switzerland and from Holland to tell us about their
Christmas?
FAIRY: They will come because you wished it, and from other countries as
well. (_She dances around the room once more, and vanishes. Hans and
Gretchen run to the door and look after her. They clap their hands and
dance around the room for joy._)
HANS: We’re really going to have a Christmas party! Let’s go on trimming
the tree. (_While they are doing this, they finish the song._)
But, indeed, you know our need,
Know our heart’s desires;
Children, father, and mamma!
You know, too, our grandpapa!
Yes, we all are waiting--ah!
Waiting, you know, tires!
(_The sound of a bell is heard and a little girl_ e_nters, ringing a
Swiss bell. She is dressed in a Swiss costume._)
SWISS CHILD: I come from the lofty mountains of Switzerland to give you
greeting. (_The two children run to welcome her._)
HANS: Did you come in an airship?
SWISS CHILD: No; the Christmas fairy brought me. What a beautiful tree!
HANS: Yes; it’s our Christmas tree. Don’t you have one? Doesn’t St.
Nicholas bring you presents?
SWISS CHILD: No; the Christmas Lady[10] comes to us. She wears a white
gown and a red cap, and she carries a basket of toys on her back. But
only good children get toys. She brings a switch for the bad ones, and
they must keep it all the year and get whipped whenever they are
naughty!
GRETCHEN: I’m so glad St. Nicholas has a wife to help him. It would be
so hard for him to get along by himself. Let’s sing a little till the
other children come.
(_They dance slowly around the tree, singing. While they are singing, a
hard clacking of wooden shoes is heard at the door. The children stop to
listen, and a little Dutch girl enters. She carries a wand with a star
on the end and has a basket of sweetmeats on her arm._)
GRETCHEN (_coming to greet her_): Here is our little neighbor. I’m so
glad you have come. Do the children in Holland have a Christmas Eve like
ours?
DUTCH CHILD: We don’t have a pretty tree like that, and we don’t hang
our stockings before the fire. Good St. Nicholas comes to visit us in
the evening. He brings toys for the good children and a _big birch rod_
for the naughty ones. When he comes in, every one joins in this song of
welcome:
Welcome, good St. Nicholas, welcome,
Bring no rod for us to-night;
While our voices bid thee welcome,
Every heart with joy is light.
Then we recite verses and play games for a while. As St. Nicholas goes
away he scatters sweetmeats on the floor. We children scramble for them
and try to fill our baskets. Then, after he has gone away, we all go
into another room and put our shoes on a table. We always put a bit of
hay in each shoe for St. Nicholas’s good old horse, Sleipner.
GRETCHEN: Oh! St. Nicholas comes to us with reindeer.
DUTCH CHILD: In Holland he goes about on his good horse, Sleipner. Then
we all say “Good-night,” and go to bed. While we are asleep St.
Nicholas comes back and fills all the shoes. Every one in the house gets
presents.
GRETCHEN: Why do you carry that pretty star?
DUTCH CHILD: This is the Star of Bethlehem. The children in Holland walk
about the streets early on Christmas Eve and follow one who carries the
star. People give the children gifts of money and other things, and
these are all given to the poor.
GRETCHEN: I think that is a beautiful Christmas Eve. Will you try to
teach us your song of welcome to St. Nicholas? (_The Dutch child sings
her song again and the other children sing it after her. They join
hands, and dance a simple folk dance in time to the music. As they sing,
a sound of sleigh bells interrupts them. A child runs in, dressed in
Russian coat and furs. She is glistening with snow._)
RUSSIAN CHILD: Oh! Your fire looks warm and bright! Christmas is cold,
indeed, on the snowy plains of Russia. I am sorry for poor Babouscka
to-night.
GRETCHEN: Come up to the fire and get warm, and tell us who Babouscka
is. (_All seat themselves around the fire._)
RUSSIAN CHILD: Babouscka! Don’t you know about her? On Christmas Eve
every little Russian child expects a visit from a little old woman
called Babouscka. Long, long ago, on Christmas Eve, Babouscka was
sweeping her house when Three Wise Men came to the door and asked her to
go with them to bear gifts to a little child. She said she would go when
she had finished sweeping, but they said, “We may not wait. We follow a
star.” So they went their way. Afterwards Babouscka was sorry she hadn’t
gone with them. So she started out alone to find the child, and ever
since, on Christmas Eve, she wanders about to every house where there
are children, seeking the wonderful child the Wise Men talked about. But
always, when she asks for the child, the answer is the same, “Farther
on! Farther on!”
GRETCHEN: Poor Babouscka! I hope she will find the child sometime. Let’s
go on with the song. Perhaps some one else will come. (_They continue
singing. A French child enters._)
HANS: Oh! Here comes a little maid of France! I know her by her pretty
cap. Come, tell us what you do on Christmas Eve, and who brings your
gifts.
FRENCH CHILD: Christmas is a holy time with us. The Christ Child himself
brings the gifts. We call him Le Petit Noël.
HANS: Do you hang up your stocking for him to fill?
FRENCH CHILD: No; we put our shoes by the hearth at night and Le Petit
Noël comes down the chimney and fills them.
HANS: Your shoes? I’m glad we hang up our stockings--they hold so much
more. Wooden shoes won’t stretch!
GRETCHEN: What a lovely Christmas party we are having! Just think, here
are children from Switzerland, Holland, Russia, and France. I wonder if
any more children will come. Let’s all dance and sing while we wait.
(_They go on with the song. Sound of sleigh bells is heard outside. An
English child enters._)
ENGLISH CHILD: A Merrie Christmas from Merrie England!
HANS: Oh! another guest! How lovely of you to come to our party. Do you
have Christmas Eve parties at home?
ENGLISH CHILD: Oh, yes; Christmas Eve is the merriest night of the year
with us.
HANS: Tell us all about it. (_The children seat themselves about the
hearth, the English child in the center._)
ENGLISH CHILD: Early in the morning we go to the woods and gather
evergreens. Then we trim all the rooms with holly, mistletoe, box, and
bay; in the evening we light the great yule log.
GRETCHEN: What’s the yule log?
ENGLISH CHILD: Well, it’s a big log that we always burn in the fireplace
on Christmas Eve. All the family meet together on Christmas Eve, and we
have a beautiful tree like yours. Every one gives a present to every one
else, and we sing and tell stories and have a happy time. Then early on
Christmas morning the waits come round and waken us, singing Christmas
carols. At dinner we have a great big plum pudding, and mother puts
brandy on it and sets fire to the brandy, and it makes a pretty blue
flame.
GRETCHEN: I think that must be a happy Christmas. Who are the waits that
sing the carols?
ENGLISH CHILD: They are children who go about from house to house, early
on Christmas morning, and sing.
GRETCHEN: Will you sing one of your carols for us?
ENGLISH CHILD: Yes, if you will all help. (_English child sings carol._)
I saw three ships come sailing in;
On Christmas day, on Christmas day;
I saw three ships come sailing in;
On Christmas day in the morning.
Pray whither sailed those ships all three,
On Christmas day, on Christmas day,
Pray whither sailed those ships all three,
On Christmas day in the morning?
And all the bells on earth shall ring
On Christmas day, on Christmas day,
And all the bells on earth shall ring
On Christmas day in the morning.
(_Children join in the refrain. As they finish the carol, a Swedish
child enters._)
SWEDISH CHILD: What a beautiful Christmas party! I’m so glad the
Christmas fairy brought me.
HANS: Oh, are you another little maid from France?
SWEDISH CHILD: Oh, no; I come from the frozen north--from Sweden.
GRETCHEN: Do you have Christmas ’way up there? And does St. Nicholas go
so far on Christmas Eve?
SWEDISH CHILD: Of course we have Christmas, but I never heard of St.
Nicholas before.
HANS (_to Gretchen_): There’s another country he doesn’t go to,
Gretchen. (_To Swedish child._) Doesn’t any one bring the little Swedish
children presents on Christmas Eve?
SWEDISH CHILD: Oh, yes; the Christmas gnomes do that! They are a little
old man and a little old woman who come to every home in Sweden,
bringing gifts for all in the house. The old man carries a bell and the
old woman a large basket filled with gifts. In Sweden every one is
remembered on Christmas Day, and a sheaf of grain is fastened to a pole
at each house so that not even the birds are forgotten.
HANS: Oh, Gretchen, let us put up some grain for the birds to-morrow
morning! (_Song is heard outside._)
GRETCHEN: Hark--some one is singing! (_They all listen. Irish child
sings behind the screen._)
At Christmas time in Ireland
There is feasting, there is song,
And merrily the fife and fiddle play;
And lightly dance the colleens,
And the boys, the evening long,
At Christmas time in Ireland far away!
(_Irish child enters, singing._)
Oh, there’s nothing half so sweet
In any land on earth
As Christmas time in Ireland far away!
HANS: Christmas time in Ireland!
IRISH CHILD: Yes, Christmas Day is a day of feasting and merriment.
Where did you get that pretty tree?
HANS: It’s our Christmas tree. Don’t you have one?
IRISH CHILD: No; I never saw one before.
HANS: Doesn’t St. Nicholas come to you? Don’t you get presents?
IRISH CHILD (_shaking her head thoughtfully_): No.
HANS: Then how can you have a merry Christmas?
IRISH CHILD: No; we don’t get gifts at home. We give them to the poor.
On Christmas Eve we light the great yule log in the fireplace. Then,
while it roars and crackles on the hearth, we sit around and hear the
tale that we love so well, of the shepherds who watched their flock by
night, and of the Christ Child in the manger. Before we go to bed we put
the great candle decked with ribbons in the window so that our welcome
may shine out for the Christ Child, should he wander that way. On
Christmas morning, of course, we all go to church, and then we come home
to the best dinner, and all the young people dance and make merry far
into the night.
HANS (_to Gretchen_): Think of a Christmas Eve without a tree or St.
Nicholas or gifts!
IRISH CHILD: But we have the yule log and the story-telling, and we
dance and sing.
HANS: Was that one of your Christmas songs you were singing as you came
in?
IRISH CHILD: Yes, every one sings that song at Christmas time.
HANS: Won’t you sing the rest of it for us?
(_Child finishes the song._)
At Christmas time in Ireland,
How the holly branches twine,
In stately hall and cabin old and gray!
And red among the leaves
The holly berries twine--
At Christmas time in Ireland far away!
(_Just as she finishes the song, the American child runs in. They all
rise to greet her._)
AMERICAN CHILD: I’m late because I had so far to come. The fairy carried
me high over the seas from America.
HANS: America! I’m so glad you have come! I wondered what the American
children were doing to-night.
AMERICAN CHILD (_looking around_): Why, I think you must do just what we
do on Christmas Eve. You have a tree--you put evergreens around--and you
hang your stockings up for Santa Claus to fill.
HANS: Santa Claus? St. Nicholas comes to us.
GRETCHEN: He’s the same, Hans, only they call him a little different.
DUTCH CHILD: Does he come on his horse?
AMERICAN CHILD: No, he is drawn in a sleigh with eight reindeer. He
comes down the chimney and fills our stockings with toys and candy, when
we are asleep.
DUTCH CHILD: Doesn’t he bring a switch for the bad ones?
AMERICAN CHILD: Oh, no; Santa Claus never leaves anything but toys.
DUTCH CHILD: I wish he wouldn’t bring it when he comes to us!
GRETCHEN: Isn’t it funny? We all do different things on Christmas Eve.
But we all have a happy time and love it, and I’m sure each one of us
likes her own way the best. (_Sounds of sleigh bells are heard outside,
and children laughing. Gretchen runs to the window and looks out._) Oh,
here are the village children! They have come to our Christmas party.
(_The village children run in. All greet each other and join in
singing._)
This tree was grown on Christmas Day.
Hail, old Father Christmas!
Old and young together say,
Hail, old Father Christmas!
Bright the colored tapers shine;
Hail, old Father Christmas!
Bright to-day the love divine.
Hail, old Father Christmas!
Bright and light our Christmas tree,
Hail, old Father Christmas!
Bright and light our hearts must be.
Hail, old Father Christmas!
Dance, then, children, dance and sing,
Hail, old Father Christmas!
All the merry chorus ring.
Hail, old Father Christmas!