SCENE I
Christmas Eve, in the forest near Mother Madelon's cottage. The ground is covered with snow and the little evergreens all about are weighted down with it. Enter Fritz (L.) with his brothers and sisters, laden with holly boughs and evergreens. The boys drag a sled with a small evergreen tree on it. As they come they sing "Softly the Echoes Come and Go."[1]
Fritz. Stop here and rest, Heinrich. This is too big a load for the little ones.
Barbara. Yes, Karl is all out of breath, and little Jan can hardly keep up.
Heinrich [dropping the sled rope]. I'm not tired. I'm going to run back to the holly trees to get a few more sprays. [Exit.]
Oscar [who has been measuring the tree with his arm.] Fritz, do you think the good St. Nicholas can cover such a big tree as this?
Karl. It's pretty big. It's bigger than me—or Katrina—I guess it's bigger than Fritz or Barbara or Heinrich.
Katrina. I think it's bigger than the one St. Nicholas filled for us last year.
Jan. But then, you see, we are bigger children than we were last year.
Fritz. But the tree is almost big enough to hold you on the top branches, kleiner Bruder, if the good St. Nicholas wanted to put you there. See! [He and Barbara help Jan on top of the load. Enter Heinrich excitedly.]
Heinrich. Fritz, Fritz! And, Barbara, and all of you! Listen to what I've seen. I was running over to the holly trees, you know, when I tripped on a bit of grape-vine, and rolled over in the snow. [Brushes snow from his clothes.] And when I sat up there was the queerest little black cottage right there. I do believe it just came up out of the ground like a house in a fairy-book.
Fritz. Oh no, it didn't, Heinrich, it's always been there! I've seen it many a time.
Heinrich. I don't believe it! Why didn't I ever see it then?
Barbara. Oh, never mind that! Tell us some more about the house.
Heinrich. I crept up, and looked in at the window, for, of course, I thought there might be brownies, or gnomes, or kobolds there, and I saw——
Children [breathlessly]. What? Oh, what?
Heinrich. A poor woman and two little children——
Children [disappointed]. O-o-h!
Fritz. That all?
Heinrich. Just wait! They looked so poor and hungry—there wasn't a thing on the table but a dry little loaf of bread—and only a few little sticks on the fire.
Katrina. Oh, it makes me so sorry.
Heinrich [shaking his head wisely]. That's not the worst of it. When I got to the window the two children were standing by the mother's chair, looking up in her face and asking her something. I couldn't hear what they said, but she shook her head oh, so sadly, and said: "No, my little ones, the good St. Nicholas will not find his way to us this Christmas." That's what she said! [Silent consternation.]
Fritz. What? What did you say, Heinrich?
Barbara. It couldn't be so!
Karl. St. Nicholas!
Oscar. Not find his way everywhere!
Katrina. Not give them any beautiful Tannenbaum!
Fritz. Oh, I don't believe it! You didn't hear right!
Heinrich. I did. And I do believe it! You would if you had seen how sorry they looked.
Fritz. Well, but—well, I don't see—well, Heinrich, it isn't so hard to find. He must come surely.
Heinrich. No, he isn't coming. The poor woman said so and she must know. [Sitting down on sled.]
Barbara. Yes, she must know. Father and Mother always see the good saint first, you know, and tell him whether we've been naughty or good. They always know whether he is coming or not.
Katrina. But he always does come to us.
Oscar. Brother Fritz, Mother says the good St. Nicholas loves to give presents to little children. Wouldn't he be sorry if there was a house anywhere in the world that he didn't know about?
Karl. Brother Fritz, couldn't we show him the way?
Fritz [claps him on the shoulder]. Well spoken, Karl, my man. We'll tell St. Nicholas all about it as soon as he comes to us, and then show him the way to Heinrich's little black hut.
Barbara. And if he shouldn't have enough to go around, he always brings us so much that we can spare some of our things for them.
Fritz. Yes, he puts enough for two trees on our tree. Come, Oscar and Karl, get hold of the rope! Barbara, you take Katrina's hand.
Barbara. Trot along in front, Jan! Come, then, let's get home as fast as we can.
Heinrich. All together now! Get up, horses, pull the load home! [Exeunt (R.), singing as before. Enter Friedel (L.), before the sound of their voices has died away, slowly and wearily. Limps to side and peers through the trees after the children, then to the back, then to the left again, like one who has lost his way. Stops in the center looking doubtfully after the children once more. Enter the woodcutter (L.), axe over his shoulder, whistling as he hurries home. Friedel silently holds out his cap, but the man shrugs his shoulders, shakes his head, and passes on. Friedel goes slowly to a tree and sits on a log or mound beside it. Blows on his fingers, tries to pull his rags more closely around him, and leans his head dejectedly on his hands. Lifts his head suddenly to watch Marta, who approaches (L.), hobbling under a bunch of fagots.]
Marta. Ach, my old bones! Ach, this heavy bundle! Will ever old Marta get home?
[Friedel silently holds out his cap.
Marta. What's this! What's this! What's this! Was ever heard tell of such insolence? As if Old Marta wasn't poor enough herself, without giving to every beggar who chooses to ask! The little good-for-nothing sees how I stagger under my own load and yet asks me to help him! [Moves on.]
Friedel [softly]. I would help you carry them.
Marta [pausing]. Help me! Help me! and lose half the sticks I have worked so hard to gather on the way! [Goes on.] Help me, he says. When I want help I'll not ask the beggars that come out of the streets of the town just a purpose to lie in wait for a poor old crone like me. [Exit (R.) mumbling.] That I'll not! That I'll not.
Friedel [looking after her]. Why does she think I would drop the sticks? I would be so careful. I wonder why. I almost think she was afraid of me. Of me!
[Enter Cross Jacob (L.).
Friedel [timidly]. Please—please, sir, could you tell me the way back to the town? And oh, couldn't you let me come to your fire a little while to warm myself?
Cross Jacob. Go away with you! It's as much as ever my wife will do to let me warm myself at my fire. She's got nine boys of her own to fill up my house and drive me away. Get away with you! [Shakes his fist threateningly. Friedel recoils.] Go home to your own fire! [Exit (R.).]
Friedel. Oh, if I only had one!
[Enter Rich Johann (L.). Pauses to light his pipe.
Friedel [speaking timidly and hurriedly]. Oh, sir! Oh, good, kind sir! don't you want a little boy to help you in your house?
Johann [looks him over]. What's your name, boy?
Friedel. Friedel, sir!
Johann. Friedel what!
Friedel. Just Friedel, sir!
Johann. Umph! "Just Friedel." And who's Friedel, I'd like to know.
Friedel. I don't think I just know myself, sir! But, oh, sir! [clasps his hands tightly], please let me work for you. I would pick up wood for you, and build fires, and run errands. I would work so hard and be so faithful!
Johann [throwing back his shoulders and putting his hands in his pockets]. And who do you think I am, boy, that you presume to want to work in my house? To work for me, Rich Johann, who has many servants in his house, to carry out his commands and do his work and run his errands? Umph! Do you think I could have one servant about me clothed in such rags as yours? [Friedel hangs his head.] No, no! my servants wear fine clothes and brass buttons [takes a puff at his pipe], yes, indeed, brass buttons. No, no! Rich Johann lives in a very different style—a very different style, indeed. [Exit (R.), his nose very much in the air.]
Friedel. Nobody will take me in. I have walked so far, so far, I can't go back to the town. [Throws himself down on mound (R. Center).] The snow feels almost warm, the wind is so cold. [Points up.] I can see a star up there through the trees. It twinkles and twinkles as if it was laughing. I do believe it is! Sometimes I think the stars must be children with little candles in their hands. I wish I could see—— I wish—— [He falls back asleep. Enter the little Star Child (back Center) from behind the fir trees. Sings.]
THE CHRIST CHILD[2]
Wm. Taubert.
Over all the starlight clear,
While the world is sleeping,
Sits the Christ Child ever dear,
Nightly watch is keeping.
Safe the starry host He tends,
As his sheepfold shining,
Cares for us and slumber sends,
All to rest resigning,
Sweetly sleep then, do not fear;
Look with love before thee,
From the golden starlight clear,
Bends the Christ Child o'er thee,
Bends the Christ Child o'er thee.
[Exit backwards slowly. Friedel suddenly raises
himself, stretching out his hand after her.
CURTAIN