ACT I
Time: Afternoon of the 24th of December.
Scene: A street corner on a snowy day. Barrels and boxes in front of a small grocery store. Enter Dick and Dot, well wrapped up, dragging a sled.
Dick. Whew! that's a dandy coast, but it's pretty hard work pulling up.
Dot. Let's sit down a minute and rest. [They draw sled to left of stage and sit down side by side on it.] I'm so tired. Oh, Dick, I thought we were going to run over that poor gray cat, didn't you?
Dick [nodding]. It's lucky for her that she knew how to jump. The Comet would have hit her sure! This rope needs tying tighter. [Goes to front of sled and kneels down, fixing rope.]
Dot [looking around]. It's so nice and quiet here. No big boys ever coast on this street. Big boys always bump into you.
Dick [shaking his mitten at her]. Now, Dot, that's just the very reason I don't like it. You don't know how much more fun it would be to have just lots and lots of boys on this track all the time, climbing up and whizzing down. I bet none of them could beat this old sled.
Dot [doubtfully]. Maybe it would be nice, but, Dick, I think it's such fun to have just us two.
Dick. That's just because you're a girl and don't know. Come along, let's try the hill again. Shall we go over the bump?
Dot. No, I'm afraid. Let's start down here.
[Exeunt.
[Enter from Left, Jim and Polly.
Jim. If you're very cold, Sister, we can go home right off now, but I've got four papers left, and I want awful bad to sell 'em, every one, so's I can take the money to Granny.
Polly. No, I'm not so dreadful cold, Jim. And, 'sides, maybe Granny's not got home yet from work, and then you know we'd just have to sit on the doorstep and wait.
Jim. We'll stay right here. Folks will be going home soon, and lots of men pass this corner. Here's a nice box to sit on; I don't believe the store man will mind. You sit on that side, so, Polly, and I'll sit here, so, for the wind's blowing this way, and if I sit here it will hit me first, and I can keep it off o' you. [They sit back to back on the box.]
Polly. Oh, Jim, I'm afraid you'll be cold.
Jim. Oh, no, I won't. [Two men cross stage arm in arm.] Here's your Times, Star, Evening Post. Last edition. [Men shake their heads.] [Looking after men.] Pshaw! Well, maybe the next feller'll want one. [To Polly.] See, Polly, I can't be cold, I just stuff my hands in my pockets—— [His hand comes through.] No, that's the wrong place. I just stuff my hands in my pockets like this, and then I kick my heels like this. [Kicks on box with his heels.] That's very warming. And then I whistle. [Whistles lively tune.] If you just whistle you don't have time to think about the wind, see!
Polly [drums with her heels and tries to whistle]. But it hurts to kick your heels, and I can't whistle.
Jim. I'll tell you what. Let's try singing. Perhaps that's just as warming. Let's sing Granny's Christmas song. [They sing a verse of "God rest ye, merry gentlemen," or some other old-world carol.]
Polly. Jim, is to-morrow Christmas?
Jim [gloomily]. Yes, to-morrow's Christmas. [Aside.] And if somebody don't buy these papers pretty soon, I won't have enough pennies to get [counts on his fingers] that penny paper doll; nor the penny washtub, nor the jumping Jack, nor the paint box, 'cause that's three cents. [Enter man.] Here's your evenin' paper, sir! [Man stops and takes one. Exit.]
[Enter Dick and Dot, cross stage, and sit
down as before.
Dot. Wasn't that a nice coast, Dick?
Dick [absently]. Yes. [Rests his chin in his hands and elbows on his knees.] Dot, I do wish we lived in an orphan asylum.
Dot [jumps]. Oh-h! Why, Dicky Browne, you wouldn't have any papa nor mamma nor Aunt Jennie, nor anybody, nor anybody.
Dick. But just think what lots of brothers and sisters we'd have.
Dot. Well, you're all the brothers I want; 'nd I wouldn't give up Papa and Mamma for all the sisters in the world; so now.
Dick. Well, neither would I, but can't you see how much nicer times we would have if there was a lot of us, on holidays especially?
Dot. Well, I think we have an awfully good time, anyway. You said you liked Thanksgiving.
Dick. That was because of the dinner part. When we tried to play games and dance afterwards, what did we do? We played Hide the Thimble, and if I hid it there was only you to look, and of course you couldn't help finding it first. We had to play Going to Jerusalem with just one chair, and the two of us went around and around and around till we felt like the "Little Rid Hin" in John's story. I declare there aren't enough of us to play Puss-in-the-corner. Two children can't have any fun. [Puts his head down on his arms.]
Dot [sighs]. That's so.
Dick [lifts up his head suddenly]. And I'd just like to know what's the fun of coasting when you haven't anything to shout "clear the track" at, but ash barrels, and hens and cats that you can't run over anyway. I wish there were forty-'leven boys on the track this minute.
Dot. Well, I don't care about the track, but brothers and sisters are nice to play with. Wouldn't it be nice if there were two of you and two of me?
Dick. Two of us! I wish there were six of each of us. I wish I could go and live with the Ruggles's, in your story about the "Birds' Christmas Carol." There were nine of them and they only got washed about once a year. And folks weren't always saying, "Land! where did you get them dirty hands?"
Dot. That would be fun! We could play just as untidy games——
Dick. Don't talk about it, it makes me cross. [Folds his arms, crosses his feet, and whistles something sad. Dot gets out her handkerchief and spreads it in her lap.]
Jim [softly]. I say, Polly, that boy's got an awful nice sled.
Polly. Just look at his sister's muff. [Enter man.]
Jim [shouts]. Buy a paper, sir! [Man takes paper.]
[Dot turns and sees children, looks away, then
back again, turns to Dick.
Dot. Dicky, are you sure you are warm enough?
Dick. Warm enough! How could I be cold with a great big coat like this one? I feel like a polar bear. [Walks up and down to show size of his coat, then sits down. Dot turns and sees the children's ragged shoes.]
Dot. But are your feet warm?
Dick. Of course, with boots on.
Dot [sees Polly examining holes in her mittens]. But aren't there any holes in your mittens?
Dick. In my spick-span new mittens that Aunt Jennie made me? [Holds them up.] Dot, you're crazy! [Catches her looking at the children; looks himself, and then walks around the sled to sit facing Jim and Polly. Dot does the same. All four stare in silence.] Hullo!
Jim. Hullo, yourself!
Dick. Are you the boy that my papa gets his papers of?
Jim. Don't know.
[Dot walks decidedly over to Polly.
Dot. Let me feel your hands. They're just like ice; I knew it. Put them right in here with mine. [Kneels in front of Polly and puts her hands in muff. Dick moves sled close to Jim and sits astride of it.]
Dick. Have you sold all your papers?
Jim. No, I've got two left.
Dick. Isn't it lots of fun to sell papers and earn money?
Jim. I don't know,—not this kind of weather.
Dick. I think it would be fun. I wouldn't want to sell 'em on Christmas. Do you have to work on Christmas day?
Jim. Not if I don't want to. I did go out last Christmas, but nobody much came along. I suppose they stayed at home to keep warm.
Dot. No, I guess Santa Claus was coming to see their little children, and they wanted to see him too. [To Polly.] What do you want Santa Claus to bring you?
Polly. Santa Claus hasn't ever been to our house.
Dot. What, hasn't ever been to your house!
Dick. Haven't you ever seen him?
Jim. No, she never saw him, but I saw a stuffed Santa Claus in a window once.
Dick. Why, he comes to our house every single year.
Dot. I thought he went to everybody's houses in this world.
Jim [leaning toward Dick and speaking low]. I get Polly presents when I get enough money.
Dick. But doesn't Santa Claus fill your stockings?
Jim. No, and he never goes to Nicky Smith's house, nor Eddy Warren's, nor Jakey White's. They told me so. Here comes another man. Post, sir? [Man shakes his head.]
Polly. Jim got me some candy last Christmas, and Granny gave me a doll, only its head came off the next day.
Jim. That's an awful nice sled.
Dick. Haven't you got any sled?
Jim. No, but I coast on a board sometimes.
Dick. I'll let you try Comet. Don't you want to take Polly down?
Dot. Oh, yes, go; we'll take care of the papers.
Dick. Let's change places; we'll sell papers and you coast. And you must take our coats too. [Pulls off his things, Dot following his example.] Because the wind just whistles right through you, I tell you, when you go down that hill.
Dot. Oh, yes.
Jim. We're much obliged for the sled, but we can't take your things; you'll be cold.
Dick. No, we won't, and you must. [Helps him on with his own coat.] You see, you're cold now, and you won't have a good coast if you're not warm. Give me your cap. Here, take my mittens. Dot, take Polly's shawl.
Dot. Now, we'll sit right down here. Dick, you hold the papers.
Jim. Are you all fixed?
Dick and Dot. Oh, beautifully. Oh, thank you.
[Jim and Polly go off.
Dick [calling]. Put Polly on behind.
Dot. Mind the bump at the curbstone.
Dick. Oh, Dot, isn't this fun?
Dot. Yes, lots. Have you got the papers?
Dick. Yes, there are only two left to sell.
Dot. Let me get close up behind you, the way Polly did. Now you must drum with your heels, and whistle like Jim. [Dick does so.]
Dick. Here comes somebody. Now I'm going to call. Here's your evening papers, last edition!
[Enter two men, stop and buy a paper.
First Man [looking back]. That's a queer-looking newsboy. Somehow he looks like a rich child.
Second Man [pulling him off]. I can't see but the little scamp is ragged enough. Some of these newsboys aren't so poverty-stricken as they make out, anyway. Come along. [Exeunt.]
Dick. I've seen that man somewhere.
Dot. I think he's been to see Papa. Wouldn't it be fun if Papa came along and bought a paper of you?
Dick. And didn't know me. What a circus! Wish he would.
Dot. There come Jim and Polly. Wave your paper at them.
Dick [waving]. Hurrah, Jim, I sold a paper.
[Enter Jim and Polly.
Jim. Good for you. It was fine!
Polly. It was just grand!
Dick. Try it again. We like this, don't we, Dot?
Dot. Yes. Don't you want to go again, Polly?
Jim. Are you warm enough? honest Injun?
Dot. Yes, go on.
Jim. All right. [Exeunt.]
Dick. I knew Jim would think Comet was a boss sled. Don't you think Jim would be a nice brother, Dot?
Dot. Yes, if he washed his face. Polly would be nice for a sister, too.
Dick. We could all write letters to Santa Claus together. [Drums with heels and whistles.]
Dot [after a pause, rubbing her nose]. Well, if Santa Claus's nose ever feels like mine, it's no wonder it's red.
Dick [squirming]. Somehow, it's colder than I thought it was. The thermometer must be down to zero.
Dot. I'm sure it's nineteen below. I—I think a fire would feel real nice.
Dick. I'll take you home when they come up again. I'm not very cold. I wonder if Jim ever flops his arms like a street car driver. Maybe that would make him warm. Try it, Dot. [Both beat themselves with their arms.]
Dot. I don't believe anything would make me warm.
Dick [turning anxiously]. Dot, do you want my handkerchief?
Dot. Oh, no, I'm not going to cry.
Dick. Well, I'm glad, for it's in my pocket that Jim's got on.
[Enter man.
Man. Got a Times, boy?
Dick. Yes, sir, last one. [Exit man. Enter Jim and Polly.] Sold the last paper, Jim. Here's the money. We've got to go home now. [Changing coats.] Jim, I think it's very queer about Santa Claus. Is your house hard to find?
Jim. No, it's just right down this street, there on Friendship Alley. We're awfully much obliged for the ride. The Comet's a beauty.
Polly. I never was on a sled before.
Dot. Weren't you? We'll let you have ours again, sometime.
Dick and Dot. Good-night. [Exeunt.]
Jim. That's an awfully nice little chap, Polly.
Polly. Why, Jim, he's 'most as big as you are.
Jim. Oh, well, he's little somehow. I take care of you and that makes me big. Let's go home to Granny. [Takes her hand. Exeunt, singing another verse of their carol.]
CURTAIN