SCENE II: _Interior of MR. RADCLIFFE’S room. Table, chairs, couch,

clothes scattered over the room. MR. R. is sitting reading the paper, his feet on a chair. He puts paper down, yawns, resumes paper._

MR. RADCLIFFE. Jupiter! What a wretched day! Cold and rainy outside and stupid and tiresome inside. (_Knock._) Come in. Oh, it’s you, is it, Bob?

BOB (_briskly_). Yessir. It’s me, sir. Here’s yer mail, sir.

MR. R. Toss ’em over, then. (_Drops paper, takes letters._) Beastly day.

BOB (_picking up MR. R.’S paper from the floor, setting chairs straight, etc._) Oh, no, sir. Fine day, sir. Most Christmas, sir.

MR. R. (_sharply_). What of it, then? What if it is most Christmas?

BOB (_surprised_). W’y, sir! Ev’rybody’s glad w’en Christmas comes.

MR. R. I’m not. Why should I be glad? Tell me that.

BOB. W’y—Mr. Radcliffe! W’y—jes’—’cos—it’s Christmas.

MR. R. (_sitting up suddenly_). And what’s Christmas? Just a chance for some fools to spend other fools’ money. (_Pounds table._) All foolery, I tell you! All foolery!

BOB (_protesting_). Oh, Mr. Radcliffe! No, sir! Leastways not as I ever see. We’re glad at Christmas, sir—and give things, sir, an’ gets ’em—an’ we feels kind to everybody, sir—that’s Christmas, sir.

MR. R. (_pounds table so suddenly BOB jumps_). Don’t contradict me, sir! Do you hear? Don’t contradict me. I said it is all foolery, and it is. (_BOB promptly departs._) And this fellow proves it when he talks as he does. “Get ’em!” Of course. That’s all they want—to “get” things. “Feel kind?” Slush! (_Puts feet on table, takes paper. Knock at door._) Come in. What is it?

(_Small boy, BILL, with very large bundle._)

BILL. Here’s yer suit, sir. From the cleaners.

MR. R. Set it down. (_Resumes reading. BILL puts down the suit and waits. After a moment MR. R. looks over his paper._) Well, what are you waiting for?

BILL. Please, my paw—he says he’d like the pay, ’cos termorrer’s Christmas. An’ here’s the bill. (_Offers it._)

MR. R. (_sarcastically_). I’ll warrant he’d like the pay. And he can have it. But what in thunder does Christmas have to do with it?

BILL (_backing hastily away and putting the bill behind him._) Please—we’re to have a tree; a little, nice tree. An’ paw—he’d like the pay ’cos (_eagerly_) I’m to have a dandy knife, an’ maw’ll have a new dress, an’ a pot o’ posies—and little Sis’ll have a new dress, an’ have candy, too; an’—an’ it’s Christmas; a Christmas tree, sir.

MR. R. Here. Take it and get out. (_BILL goes hastily._) They are all fools together, and a fool and his money belong to the Christmas crowd. (_Boy puts head in and says timidly._)

BILL. Christmas gif’, please. (_Dodges out as MR. R. throws the paper at him._)

MR. R. Thunderation! Are we to be pestered by gifts, too? Not if I know it. (_Lies back in his chair again._) It’s a beastly day. (_Sees letters, opens one._) I forgot these. (_Glances over it._) Here’s another fool. That Phil Warner wants me to come to Christmas dinner. I look like going to a Christmas dinner now, don’t I? (_Sarcastically._) Oh, yes! I’m the kind that’ll go and admire the babies, and let them climb all over me—and see them spoiled with this fol-de-rol about Christmas! No, thanks, old boy. I have an appointment elsewhere. (_Takes up other letter, reads, slams it down._) Is everybody Christmas crazy? Here’s the minister of the church yonder asks me to contribute to their Christmas tree for poor children. Now, that’s a little too much! I may be easy, but I’m not ready for the asylum. (_Puts feet on the table, lies back in his chair, puts handkerchief over his face. Silence._)

CURTAIN.