Chapter 6

So important were these Christmas court celebrations held by our ancestors, and of such moment were the preparations, that a special officer was appointed to take them in charge. To him were accorded large privileges, very considerable appointments, and a retinue equal to a prince's, counting in a chancellor, treasurer, comptroller, vice-chamberlain, divine, philosopher, astronomer, poet, physician, master of requests, clown, civilian, ushers, pages, footmen, messengers, jugglers, herald, orator, hunters, tumblers, friar, and fools. Over this mock court the mock monarch presided during the holidays with a reign as absolute as the actual monarch.

* * * * *

=Holly and Ivy.=

(Noël is the French word for Christmas.)

Holly standeth in ye house When that Noël draweth near; Evermore at ye door Standeth Ivy, shivering sore, In ye night wind bleak and drear.

"Sister Holly," Ivy quoth, "What is that within you see? To and fro doth ye glow Of ye yule-log flickering go; Would its warmth did cherish me! Where thou bidest is it warm; I am shaken of ye storm."

"Sister Ivy," Holly quoth, "Brightly burns the yule-log here, And love brings beauteous things, While a guardian angel sings To the babes that slumber near; But, O Ivy! tell me now, What without there seest thou?"

"Sister Holly," Ivy quoth, "With fair music comes ye Morn, And afar burns ye Star Where ye wondering shepherds are, And the Shepherd King is born: 'Peace on earth, good will to men,' Angels cry, and cry again."

Holly standeth in ye house When that Noël draweth near; Clambering o'er yonder door, Ivy standeth evermore; And to them that rightly hear, Each one speaketh of ye love That outpoureth from Above.

--_Eugene Field_.

* * * * *

=Holiday Chimes.=

(When it is impossible to prepare a regular Christmas program for the friends of the pupils to enjoy with the school, the entrance to holiday week may be signalled by the impromptu reading and recitation of Christmas sentiments.)

CHRISTMAS DAY.

Feathery flakes are falling, falling From the skies in softest way, And between are voices calling, "Soon it will be Christmas day!" _--Mary B. Dodge_.

OLD DECEMBER.

With snowy locks December stands 'Mid sleet and storm; his wasted hands A frosty scepter grasp and hold; His frame is bent, his limbs are old; His bearded lips are iced and pale; He shivers in the winter gale. Come then, O day of warm heart-cheer, Make glad the waste and waning year, While old December shivering goes To rest beneath the drifted snows!

_--Benj. F. Leggett_.

CHRISTMAS-TIDE.

O happy chime, O blessed time, That draws us all so near! "Welcome, dear day," All creatures say, For Christmas-tide has come.

--_L.M. Alcott_

CHRISTMAS EVE.

The time draws near the birth of Christ: The moon is hid; the night is still; The Christmas bells from hill to hill Answer each other in the mist.

Rise, happy morn! rise, holy morn! Draw forth the cheerful day from night: O Father! touch the east, and light The light that shone when hope was born.

--_Alfred Tennyson_

FATHER CHRISTMAS.

Here comes old Father Christmas, With sound of fife and drums, With misteltoe about his brows, So merrily he comes!

Hurrah for Father Christmas! Ring all the merry bells! And bring the grandsires all around To hear the tale he tells.

--_Rose Terry Cooke_

CHRISTMAS IN ENGLAND.

Well our Christian sires of old Loved when the year its course had rolled, And brought blithe Christmas back again, With all his hospitable train.

* * * * *

England was merry England when Old Christmas brought his sports again. 'Twas Christmas broached the mightiest ale; 'Twas Christmas told the merriest tale, A Christmas gambol oft could cheer The poor man's heart through half the year.

_--Sir Walter Scott_.

MUSIC OF CHRISTMAS.

What do the angels sing? What is the word they bring? What is the music of Christmas again? Glad tidings still to thee, Peace and good will to thee Glory to God in the highest!

_--F.R. Havergal_.

A CHRISTMAS WISH.

A bright and blessed Christmas Day, With echoes of the angels' song, And peace that cannot pass away, And holy gladness, calm and strong, And sweetheart carols, flowing free! This is my Christmas wish to thee.

--_F.R. Havergal_.

THE FIRST CHRISTMAS.

Where love takes, let love give, and so doubt not: Love counts but the will, And the heart has its flowers of devotion No winter can chill; They who cared for "good will" that first Christmas Will care for it still.

--_A.A. Procter_.

ONCE A YEAR.

At Christmas play and make good cheer, For Christmas comes but once a year.

--_Tusser_.

OLD ENGLISH SONG.

When Rosemary and Bays, the poet's crown, Are bawled in frequent cries through all the town, Then judge the festival of Christmas near,-- Christmas, the joyous period of the year! Now with bright holly all the temples are strow; With Laurel green and sacred Mistletoe.

OLD FATHER CHRISTMAS.

Old Father Christmas is passing by, His cheeks are ruddy, he's bright of eye; His beard is white with the snows of time. His brow is hoary with frost and rime. It's little he cares for the frost and the cold, For old Father Christmas he never grows old.

EVERGREEN AND HOLLY.

Bring the evergreens and holly, Bring the music and the song, Chase away the melancholy, By the pleasures bright, and jolly, Which to Christmas time belong.

--_E.O. Peck_

* * * * *

=Christmas Dolls.=

By ELIZABETH J. ROOK.

_Children come skipping in, singing_:

"Here we come with our Christmas dolls Christmas dolls, Christmas dolls, Here we come with our Christmas dolls, Wouldn't you like to see them?"

(Tune--"Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush.")

_The children then form a semi-circle on the stage, and each one steps to the front as she gives her recitation, and then back to her place again_.

_First Child_:

This is my Christmas dolly; Her name is French--Celeste; And of my many children, She is the very best. This dress, you see, is finest silk, Her shoes are dainty kid, And underneath this cunning hat Her pretty curls are hid. And do I love my precious doll? Well, I just guess I do _(hugging it_)! I'll love her even when she's old As well as while she's new.

_Second Child_:

When I awoke on Christmas morn I jumped right out of bed, And ran into the nursery, And not a word I said, Until I saw my Christmas tree, And then I laughed in glee; For on it hung this pretty doll; I knew it was for me, And so I took it in my arms And kissed its lovely face. And then I said, "Now, dolly dear, I'm going to call you Grace."

_Third Child (Black doll_):

This is Miss Lucindy Ann-- And though she's black as jet She's just as good as any doll To love, and hug, and pet. I found her in my stocking, dressed In this gay calico, With bright bandanna on her head, And orange ribbon bow. I think she's very pretty, And I guess that you do, too; And don't you wish that I would give Lucindy Ann to you?

_Fourth Child (Japanese doll_):

I wrote a note to Santa Claus, And this is what I said: "Please bring to me a brand-new doll; The last you brought is dead." And so on Christmas morning I found this Jappy here, It made me laugh to see her, She looked so very queer. But I said to her politely, "Good morning, Miss Yum-Yum. This, you know, is Christmas day; I'm very glad you've come."

_Fifth Child (Rag doll_):

My dolly did not come from France, Nor faraway Japan; She's neither Spanish, Dutch nor Swiss, She's just A-mer-i-can. I know she is not beautiful, Nor very finely dressed, But I don't care for that--I think American dolls are best.

_Sixth Child (Eskimo):_

My dolly is an Eskimo From near the Arctic Sea; Kris Kringle brought her in his sleigh On Christmas eve for me. She always wears this dress of fur, Because where she was born It is so very, very cold, No light clothes can be worn. But when she's been with me awhile I think I'll make a change And dress my doll in colors bright; Then she'll not look so strange.

_Seventh Child (Holding a Teddy bear behind her_):

Now you all think your dolls are fine. Of that I'm well aware; But I have one to beat them all-- For mine's a Teddy bear _(holding it up_). He doesn't wear a fancy dress, He likes his coat of brown, And he is just as handsome As any doll in town. I like to hold him in my arms, And rock him in my chair, Because he looks so cunning-- My little baby bear.

_Eighth Child (Doll dressed as infant_):

My doll's so very sleepy She can't hold up her head; She's just a wee, small infant, And it's time she was in bed. Your dollies all look sleepy, too, And so I'm going to say, "Let's sing our little lullaby And carry them away."

SONG.

(Tune--"There is a Happy Land.")

_(To be sung very slowly and softly_.)

Here comes the old Sand Man, Close, close your eyes; He'll catch you if he can, So now be wise. Then while you sweetly sleep, Angels their watch will keep, Bright stars will o'er you peep Down from the skies.

_(Tiptoe softly off the stage, holding the dolls as though asleep, and humming the tune very faintly_.)

* * * * *

Red Pepper.

BY A. CONSTANCE SMEDLEY.

CHARACTERS.

_Princess Fadeaway_.

_Greening, Sweeting_, Ladies to the Princess.

_The Kitchenmaid._

_The Cooklet_.

_Red Pepper_, the scullion _(Prince Fairasday)_.

_Head Cook_.

_Frip, Tip, Snip, Pip_, Brownies.

Chorus of Cooks and Brownies, if desired.

TIME. Christmas Eve.

SCENE: The Kitchen in the Castle of Princess Fadeaway. Open fireplace down R. in which the fire burns, and casts a red light on the scene. Dresser against wall L. on which stands a pile of dirty plates, tin basin and soap, various culinary utensils, and a huge pepper-pot. Door up back L. Table centre, which is spread with white cloth, bordered with a quaint design. An old-fashioned wooden armchair R. of fireplace. Door up R. Stool by dresser. Chair behind table. As the curtain rises, the stage is quite dark, lit by a faint gleam from fireplace. Mysterious music, which resolves itself into the air of "Whist, whist, whist. Here Comes the Bogie Man." The _Brownies_ heard singing behind the scenes. They dance in one by one mysteriously round stage, in follow-my-leader fashion, over chair and stool, and crawl under table, round and round room as they sing.

OPENING CHORUS. (Air: "Whist, whist, whist! Here Comes the Bogie Man!")

_Brownies_:

Whist, whist, whist! Here comes the Brownie man! The Christmas pie is made to-night! We'll steal it if we can. Whist, whist, whist! The scullions will be fled! Oh, what a time we'll have to-night When everyone's in bed.

_(Enter Frip dramatically L.)_

_Frip:_ Whist!

_Brownies_: Frip! _(All prostrate themselves, touching ground with their foreheads_.)

_Frip_: The deed is done! The scullions all are packing!

_Brownies_: Oh, noble Frip!

_Tip_: How did you manage it?

_Frip (seating himself on arm of chair. Brownies sit on floor centre, facing him, sideface to audience):_ I bellowed so--Oooooooh!!!! _(groans)_ and tweaked their ugly noses, and whispered through the keyhole, "Wait till you guard the Christmas pie to-night!" until they all fled shivering to the cook, to give him notice! And now none will be left to guard the pie!

_Brownies_: 'Tis ours! 'Tis ours! _(Brownies rub themselves delightedly.)_

_Frip_: Hush! Now the kitchenmaid and cooklet come, to make all ready for his highness the head cook! We must leave them in peace until the pie is made! But then--

_Brownies_: We'll steal it! _(Singing.)_

Whist, whist, whist! Here comes the Brownie man, The Christmas pie is made to-night We'll steal it if we can! Whist, whist, whist! The scullions will be fled! Oh! what a time we'll have to-night When everyone's in bed!

_(They dance off_ R. _Music changes to a bright march. Enter the Kitchenmaid and Cooklet. The Kitchenmaid is a short, fat, rosy, brisk little girl. The Cooklet is a lanky, lazy, sentimental-looking girl. The Kitchenmaid carries pasteboard, with pie-disk, rolling-pin, basin of pastry, mince meat, etc., and enters staggering under her burden. The Cooklet carries a small basin with three apples and a knife, and eats apples as she peels them.)_

_Kitchen_: Oh, my eye and Betty Martin! What a pie we're going to make to-night! Now look sharp, Cooklet, and peel the apples, for the head cook will be here in half a minute, and the Princess, too, to give the final stir-about; and if things aren't ready for her, we shall have our heads chopped off. Oh, dearie, dearie, dearie, dear! _(Takes apples from Cooklet and peels them briskly.)_

_Cooklet (sitting on stool, yawning)_: Ah, it's all very well for the Princess! Nothing to do but eat and sleep all day. I wish I were she!

_Kitchen_: My word! I thank my stars I'm not! There she sits all day with those stuck-up ladies, who rule her and fool her and manage her and bully her till she can't call her soul her own! And all the nice young princes who come riding to the castle are sent away without getting so much as a peep at her, because her ladies are so afraid she'll marry one, and then their turned-up noses would be out of joint!

_Cooklet_: They tell the princes that the Princess is too weary to be troubled with them!

_Kitchen_: Trouble, indeed! She'd find it no trouble to choose a sweetheart from those nice young men if she were allowed to see them, but she'll never do that, if her ladies have a word in the matter! _(Furious talking outside.)_

_Kitchen_: Oh dearie, dearie, dearie, dear! If it isn't the head cook! And oh, my stars, what's happened?

_(Enter Head Cook, angrily. Kitchenmaid and Cooklet both stand trembling with fright.)_

_Head Cook_: Nevaire did I hear such impertinence. Who has gone, do you sink? Who has packed up their traps and left me to-night--to-night of all nights! Ze night I make ze Christmas pie! Ze night ze Princess comes with all her ladies to give ze final stir-about! Who? Vat? Ven? Vy? Vy?? vy???

_Cooklet and Kitchen (falling on their knees, clasping their hands entreatingly)_: O sir, pray calm yourself!

_Head Cook (dancing about with rage, and shouting)_: Calm! I am nevaire so perfectly calm in my life! My scullions have gone! Zey vill not vatch ze pie! Because zey fear ze Brownies!

_Kitchen_: The scullions gone?

_Cooklet_: Then who's to guard it?

_Head Cook_: You--of course--you earthworms!

_Both_: O dear, kind cook, we daren't! _(They grovel with fear.)_

_Head Cook (thunderously)_: Daren't?

_Cooklet_: We're afraid of the dark!

_Kitchen_: And oh, we're afraid of the Brownies!

_Head Cook_: Afraid--afraid--but vat is zere to be afraid? If ze Brownies come, you have only to sprinkle zem with ze magical red pepper!

_Cooklet_: I should faint directly I saw them!

_Kitchen_: O dear, good, handsome, gentle cook, please don't leave us alone down here to-night!

_Head Cook (almost speechless with rage)_: But vat you vant? Do you mean to say--you--vant--Me--so gr-r-r-reat--so gr-r-rand--so mightiful--Me--Chief Head Cook--you vant zat I should keep my eyes avake all night--ven I have a kitchenmaid and cooklet to suffaire for me? Is zat vat you mean, heh?

_(They nod sheepishly.)_

_Cooklet_: You're a man!

_Head Cook_: Me--a man! Vat nonsense! I am cook! You have ze most enormous cheek I've ever hit upon! Bah! _(Hits them with rolling-pin.)_ Get up--you cr-r-r-rawling caterpillars! _(Knock at the door; they scream.)_ Vat! now you make a noise, you squeaking beetles!

_Kitchen_: There's some one at the door. _(They stand trembling.)_

_Cooklet_: Oh, it sounds like a man!

_Head Cook (excitedly)_: A man--my scullions--they have retur-r-rned to me!

_Cooklet_: The scullions! Saved! _(Runs to door_ R; _opens it.)_

_Kitchen_: Oh, it's only a beggar! Be off! _(About to shut door.)_

_Prince (outside)_: Nay, mistress, I come in search of work!

_(Enter Prince Fairasday, disguised in ragged tunic. He is red-haired, and very handsome.)_

_Cooklet_: Work! O sir, here is a scullion for you!

_Head Cook_: Tut, tut, tut! Zat is for me to say, impertinence! You may come in, young man. _(Prince comes down stage. Cook seats himself importantly at table.)_ Now! Why have you come so late to ask for work?

_Prince_: I lost my way in the forest.

_Cook_: Sir! Say, "Sir" ven you spik to me if you do not say "Most Royal Sir." Vatever you like--but do be respectful.

_Prince (furious)_: Sir!!!!!

_Head Cook_: Zat is better--

_Prince_: Nay--sir--I--meant--

_Head Cook_: It does not matter vat you mean so long as you say, "Sir." Now answer, if you wish for a place here! You do--eh?

_Prince_: Why--why, yes!

_Head Cook:_ Ver' good. Zen vere is your last place?

_Prince:_ I lived in the castle of Prince Fairasday--_(Cook raps on table, annoyed.)_ Eh?

_Head Cook (shouting furiously):_ Sir!

_Prince:_ Oh--oh, yes, I beg your pardon _(humbly, laughing),_ sir.

_Head Cook:_ Vell, zen, I must know vy you leave.

_Prince:_ Why--sir--my master has fallen in love with the Princess Fadeaway--and so I thought I would come and see what sort of a princess she was--for my master in his love-sick fever is sad company for any one.

_Head Cook:_ But if he is so in lof, vy does not your master come to woo the Princess?

_Prince:_ Why, sir _(bowing)_, he had heard of too many who had been denied admittance, and as my master is proud and determined, he made up his mind he would not risk being turned away like the others. But, sir, if you will let me stay and work for you, in whatever post, however humble, I promise you if my answers do not satisfy, my service shall.

_Head Cook:_ You are villing--ah, but zey all say that. H'm--let me see what you can do. Vash up these. _(Points to dirty plates.)_

_Prince:_ Those! Why, that is scullion's work!

_Head Cook:_ Yes, and there is a scullion's place all ready.

_Prince (indignantly):_ A scullion! I had meant a place with horses--in the garden--where I might work out-of-doors.

_Kitchen:_ O dear, kind young man, pray, pray do not speak like that.

_Cooklet:_ Oh, we beseech you, take the place! _(Both fall on knees before him.)_

_Prince_: Why, what's the matter?

_Kitchen_: If there's no scullion here we have to guard the Christmas pie, and if we guard the pie we d-d-die!

_Prince_: What danger threatens you?

_Both_: The Brownies!

_Prince_: Brownies! What are Brownies?

_Head Cook_: Vy, vat sort of kitchen have you lived in, if you have never seen ze Brownies?

_Prince_: Oh, I was more like a friend than a page to my master, sir, and the fact is, I've never been in a kitchen before. Er--what are Brownies?

_(Brownies cackle with laughter outside.)_

_Head Cook_: Zey are ze evilest leetle beasts in all ze vorld! Venever you sink you are rid of zem, zere zey are at your elbow. (_Brownies laugh again_.) Vey steal, zey pinch, zey poke, zey pry, and at night, ven all ze house is still, zey come out, and if you do not keep your eyes ver' wide awake zey vill pinch you till you die--zat is, ven you guard the Christmas pie.

_Prince_: I? Oh, this pleasant little job is meant for me--me? I thank you, sir? (_Indignantly takes up his cap, preparing to go_.)

_Head Cook_: Not so fast, young man. Zey will come, yes; zey vill try to steal, yes--but zere is vun sing zat vill send them avay quick--slick--like zat. It is--RED PEPPER!

_Prince_: Red Pepper! How dare you call me that?

_Head Cook_: Eh?

_Prince_: Who told you I was called Red Pepper?

_Head Cook_: You?

_Prince_: Why, yes. Did you not mean me?

_Head Cook_: Why no. I mean red pepper, from the pepper-pot (_taking it off shelf_).

_Prince_: Strange, for that's the name by which I'm known among my people. Why--sir--how can red pepper help me against the Brownies.

DUET (_Cook_ and _Prince_).

(Air: "There Lived a King, as I've Been Told."--_The Gondoliers_.)

_Cook_: Now very hard it is to make A Brownie his bad ways forsake, For it's a fact he takes the cake, If he can't find the candy! And if you clap your hands and shoo, He'll only make a face at you; There's only one thing you can do-- Just keep the pepper handy! For, as a Brownie hates to sneeze, Or blow his nose if it should tease, Or any wholesome acts like these, He can't abide Red Pepper!

_Prince_: Yet that's the name that's given me, For, as you all can plainly see, My hair is red as red can be-- In fact it's fiery scarlet! And as my hair, my temper is; So if a page my hair should quiz, I waste no time, but straight pull his, And thrash the saucy varlet! So that is why the name I've got, And as, when I am waxing hot I frequently dismiss the lot, They can't abide Red Pepper!

(_A dance can be arranged here with Prince, Cook, Kitchenmaid and Cooklet_.)

_Kitchen_: Ah, sir, you will be brave and take the place?

_Cooklet_: Oh, yes, dear, brave, kind handsome man! Say, "Yes," and calm our fluttering hearts!

_Kitchen_: For if we saw a Brownie we should only scream!

_Cooklet_: And die!

_Prince_: Why, then, if there's no choice save between myself and you poor maids, why--I must do it. So, sir, I'll guard your pie to-night.

_Cooklet_: O dear, good, kind young man!

_Kitchen_: O noble, bold young man! (_Both kneel gratefully_.)

_Head Cook_: Get up, I say, get up! You kneel to me--not to zis beggar fellow! And you, sir, get these dishes washed quick, slick, for here ze Princess Fadeaway is coming with her ladies!

_Prince_: The Princess coming! (_He is agitated_.)

_Head Cook_: Yes. Every Christmas night she comes to pat ze crust wiz her own fair fingers!

_Prince_: Then I shall see her!

_Head Cook_: Yes--but you need not let zat discompose you--she vill not notice you. It is only to me she vill spik! Because I am Head Cook! I am like royalty--only more so. She comes--she comes--let each be in your place! Now bow, all bow!

(_A graceful march played. Enter Princess Fadeaway, attended by Greening and Sweeting. The Princess is a sweet-voiced, gentle little girl. Her ladies are gorgeously attired, and walk and talk in a disagreeable, affected manner_.)

_Head Cook_: Welcome, Princess; the pie awaits your pleasure!

_Princess_: Good! (_She comes to the table, sees Prince, who starts, and drops dishes. He stands staring at her; does not pick dishes up_.)

_Princess_: Why--who is this strange gentleman--

_Head Cook (shocked)_: Hush--hush--Your Highness, it is only the new scullion!

_Princess (amazed)_: Scullion!

_Greening_: O Princess, how could you take that ragged creature for a gentleman?

_Sweeting_: I think he looks too fierce for safety. Look how the jackanapes eyes Your Highness!

_Princess_: He is, indeed, in sorry plight.

_Prince_: Sorry, indeed, if my rags offend Your Highness--

_Greening_: Address yourself to us, fellow! 'Tis not for such as you to speak to the Princess!

_Prince_: Nay, I am in her service, ladies, and it is her I answer if she desires to question me!

_Greening_: Insolent! I'd have him put in the stocks.

_Sweeting_: Or whipped at the whipping-post!

_Princess_: Peace, ladies! I would hear him. How is it you are not in my livery, if you are in my service?

_Prince_: I have but just this moment reached the castle. I have been traveling in the forest, where the wolves and brambles alike delayed me.

_Princess_: The wolves? Oh, they have hurt you

_Ladies (trying to stop her)_: Your Highness!