Characters
Father Time and the Twelve Months of the Year.
Costumes, etc.: Time, an emblematic figure; Months dressed according to characters: January wears a mask at back of head, resembling face; February is the shortest child, and walks with a skipping leap at every fourth step; March’s costume suggests the lion and the lamb, etc. Scenery may be elaborate, or simple, or dispensed with entirely. A sun-dial or a clump of rocks may be placed at back of stage, where Time will take his position while the Months recite. Snow may be simulated by small pieces of white paper being gently dropped from above, or by a little salt being placed in the folds of a character’s coat, so that it drops off lightly, or by a frosty little dab of soap-suds on the shoulder melting almost immediately. Taking a commanding position Time will summon each Month in turn by name, through a megaphone, then when the Month appears will retire to the back of stage till the recitation shall have been concluded. The Months will appear when summoned, in turn, disappearing on the opposite side of stage, if possible behind a piece of scenery, reappearing at back of stage, there to remain quietly till the ensemble at close. Appropriate music for exits and entrances may be used. The songs and dances may be arranged to popular tunes. Colored lights if skilfully handled may be used.
Music: It ends with heavy chords marking time. Curtain rises disclosing Father Time. He blows blast through megaphone, then speaks.
Time.
What ho, hilly ho! Before you you see
A being as ancient as old can be.
Methuselah’s decades a thousandfold
Would not have made him one thousandth as old.
The ages of all the world and his wife
Are not a speck on a patch on my life;
Nay, all your ancestors strung in a line
Would not reach back with their birthdays to mine;
And though the agedest ancient you know
The longer I live the older I grow!
Oh, no one was ever so old as I,
Nor ever will be, so ’twere vain to try!
For, lo! I am Time, your old Father Time,
The reason of wrinkles, the rhythm of rhyme;
First aboriginal native of space;
Earliest settler all over the place;
The oldest inhabitant here, or there;
The latest arrival everywhere.
By the wink of my eye your clocks are set,
And the corn you cut when my scythe I whet.
’Tis the wag of my beard marks music’s sound,
Makes the sun come up, and the world go round.
And you tell by my smile, or shake of head
When to turn out, or to turn into bed!
Now Time is money, so, therefore, you see
Whoever wants gold must reckon with me;
Though if I should look with a frown your way
The gold of your hair might be changed to grey!
Or, if your gold is a counterfeit crime,
You may cheat the world, but you can’t cheat Time!
The wealth I bring is a golden chance
For making the best of your circumstance;
But if too freely you spend what I give
I shorten your days, as sure as you live!
So you, the neighbours, the world and his wife
Must come to me for the time of your life!
For I can make you dance to ...
[Dances and sings.]
Quick time and slack time; nick o’ time and back time!
Back time and fast time; lack of time and past time!
Last time and least time; fasting time and feast time!
Little time and long time; tittle-tattle wrong time!
Sleep time, and train time; keeping time to gain time!
Best time to find time; lest you be behind time!
Saint time and sinner time; fainting-for-dinner time!
Night-time and daytime; right-you-are-time; playtime!
Make time and meantime; take-your-time between time!
Some time and no time; coming time and go time!
Zig time and zag time; jigging time and rag-time!
Prime time and high time; Time-to-say-good-by time!
[Stops; wipes brow; speaks.] Not so bad for an ancient eh?... And that is the way I shall dance to the End of Time! [Goes to centre of stage.] And now let me present to you my twelve beautiful children! [Begins to call through megaphone.] What, ho! [Just then an unseen clock strikes twelve. Time counts the strokes. As the last dies away he summons January. Instantly there is a great to-do behind the scenes: bells, horns, whistles, people cheering, etc. January appears.]
January.
When the old year dies at midnight’s chime
Behold, I appear!
The eldest and youngest child of Time,
The Happy New Year!
Two faces I wear, like the Roman god
At the temple door,
Surveying the path by pilgrims trod,
And the path before.
Backward looking, and looking ahead,
Like that god in Rome;
We read the roads we have yet to tread
By the roads we’ve come.
Then, Janus-wise, with our double view,
Let us bear in mind
To bring no faults to the year that’s new
From the years behind;
Only good counsels by which we live,
Good thoughts and good cheer,
For that is the way to get and give
A Happy New Year! [Exit January.]
[Enter February.]
February.
Behold the shortest month in all the year—
And yet I hold my head as high
As January or July,
Since Washington by birth belongs to me,
And Lincoln. Greater glory could there be?
I’m sure you’ll all applaud and cry Hear, hear! [Pauses for this to be done.]
Also I proudly claim for mine
That favourite Saint Valentine,
Upon whose day birds pair and build their nest,
Lads rhyme about the maidens they love best,
And maids dream of the lads they hold most dear.
And then, each fourth time I come round
I have to give a mighty bound,
Like this! As if at leap-frog did I play.
Thus to my twenty-eight an extra day
I add, to keep the almanac in gear! [Exit February.]
March.
[Enters roaring.]
Wrapped in clouds and a flurry of snow,
Like a roaring lion March comes in;
All a boisterous, blustering blow!
I rattle windows, and doors I slam;
And people’s hats, to their great chagrin,
I snatch and send on a whirling spin;
Then, hiding in chimneys, laugh Ho, ho!
Oh, what a practical joker I am!
Or, rocking the tree-tops to and fro,
I climb aloft like a harlequin
To play my pranks on the world below.
Stout timbers creak when ice-flows jam
From sea to harbour where ships come in;
And flood and freshet their foam-wreaths throw,
And mill-wheels turn with furious din
As the mill-stream rushes over the dam!
“O wintry March, will it never go!”
You cry, “and suffer sweet spring to win,
With fields for ploughing and seed to sow?”
Then how I laugh, for ’tis all a sham,
My blustering roar and lion’s skin ...
My practical joke, to take you in!
For, see! I’m the mildest month you know,
As I tiptoe off like a gentle lamb! [Exit March.]
[Enter April.]
April.
Ha, ha! Ha, ha! Ha, ha, ha, ha! Oh, dear, Oh, dear, Oh, dear!
I am the saddest and the gladdest month of all the year!
I cry and cry and cry until my tears make little pools
Because upon my way I meet so many April Fools!
And then I laugh and laugh until my sunshine dries my tears,
Because though foolish April Fools those April Fools are dears!
For some are foolish flowers that get out of bed too soon,
Mistaking April’s laughter for the call of May or June;
And some are foolish children who get out of bed too late,
And go to school with tousled hair and most unseemly gait;
And some are foolish grown-ups. But, in strictest confidence,
I think.... Don’t you? ’tis time that these should have some common-sense!
Ha ha, ha ha, ha ha, ha ha! Oh, dear, Oh, dear, Oh, dear!
I am the saddest and the gladdest month of all the year! [Exit April.]
[Enter May.]
May.
Oh, I’m the merry month of May,
The time of white and tender green
That nature makes a gala day!
Of May-crowned queens I am the queen,
The happy, singing heart of spring—
A maiden turning seventeen.
The fairies weave a magic ring
About my footsteps where I roam:
I have not learned that nettles sting.
Beneath the blue of Heaven’s dome,
Brushed by a feather from Time’s wing,
The world at large I call my home.
Where flowers bloom and linnets sing
Within the heart, is aye my home,
The shrine of May, the soul of spring! [Exit May.]
[Enter June.]
June.
See! The Heavens beam more brightly.
Days are strewn
Flowerful, like gardens sightly ...
I am June!
Hark! The bird-note sounds more tender.
Sweetest rune
To my praises poets render ...
I am June!
Speed the parting, hail the comer,
Sun, stars, moon!
I’m the rose, sweetheart of summer ...
I am June! [Exit June.]
[July and August enter together.]
August.
August is my name, and I ...
July.
[Interrupts.]
I speak first. I am July.
[Together.]
Hand in hand we come.
August.
Because!
July.
That’s no reason. Nature’s laws!
August.
Nature’s laws? Same thing! Because!
[Together.]
We together on our ways
Scatter summer holidays.
July.
All the joys that we unfold
Children would not change for gold.
August.
Nor would teachers, I am told!
July.
Boating ’mid the lily pads,
Swimming; fishing for the lads ...
August.
With a worm upon a hook!
July.
Or with interesting book ...
August.
[Interrupts.]
Dozing in some shady nook!
July.
Picking berries by the road;
Riding on a haycart’s load!
[Together.]
Oh, the pleasures that we bring ...
August.
Sitting idly in a swing,
Just not doing anything!
[Together.]
But, alas! our song must close.
Summer passes with the rose!
[August starts to go. July restrains August.]
July.
Wait until July has passed!
August.
[Yawns.]
Nothing done from first to last!
Nothing wears one out so fast! [Exeunt July and August.]
September.
It is easy to remember the enchanting month September,
With its mellow days, and nights starbright and clear,
When Jack Frost starts to make merry then red leaf and scarlet berry
And the purpling grape proclaim that autumn’s here!
Maples flame upon the grey side of the mountains, and the wayside
Golden-rod, gold-hearted asters now adorn:
Like old friends returned from places far away we greet their faces
As we hasten to the husking of the corn.
There are dry leaves for the raking, there are bonfires for the making;
There are ruddy apples heaped upon the grass;
And in spells of stormy weather, in some attic, barn, together,
Oh, how gaily do we make the moments pass!
Aye, in sport and happy pastime we were quite forgetting class-time
As it swiftly steals upon us unawares,
With its sums that must be slated, and its dates that won’t stay dated,
And the rocky road to learning’s many snares!
Then, as misers hoard their treasure, so we count our days of pleasure,
Days that slip away as thread reels off a spool,
Till resounding lamentation marks the close of the vacation,
As we gather up our books and start for school! [Exit September.]
[Enter October.]
October.
Who says my month is dismal, sober?
Now that’s a libel on October!
The winds come tumbling from the hills,
Like boys at play;
Like happy girls the mountain rills
Dance on their way.
The trees wear coats of golden brown;
Each breeze that stirs
From chestnut boughs is bringing down
The ripened burrs.
Then, when abroad the spirits flit,
Unheard, unseen,
A night of revels they permit ...
All Hallowe’en.
For apples in a tub you duck,
Or seek to know
The spell to bring you love and luck
From candle’s glow;
Or in a shadowed looking-glass
Your future lot
You may behold behind you pass,
Or you may not!
A merry month indeed, not sober.
I ought to know, for I’m October! [Exit October.]
[Enter November.]
November.
November’s the month for whole-hearted thanksgiving;
For thanks for your being, and thanks for your living;
For plenty to-day, and enough for to-morrow;
For freedom from sorrow, or hope beyond sorrow.
And if for naught else are you thankful, remember:
BE THANKFUL YOU STILL ARE ALIVE IN NOVEMBER!
[Exit November.]
[Enter December.]
December.
There are snowdrifts by the wayside, there is writing on the pane,
Where Jack Frost has left a message about winter come again;
There’s that tingling in the blood and there are sleigh-bells in the air,
There is coasting down the hills, and slipping, sliding, ev’rywhere!
There’s a stocking by the chimney hung on Christmas eve because
There’s a chance you’ll have a visit from our old friend Santa Claus.
There’s a bright star in the Heavens that proclaimed a wondrous birth
When the Chosen Child of Children brought His Christmas day to earth;
There are mistletoe and holly in the woods to deck the hall,
And
Here’s the Christmas spirit wishing Merry Christmas to you all! [Exit December.]
Time.
[Blows a blast.]
What, ho! Stand forth, all ye, my children!
[The Months appear.]
Time.
These are my children, my children dear.
Months.
Yes, we are the Twelve Months of the Year!
Time.
Every year, for a bite and sup,
I gobble them up!
Months.
Gobbles us up!
Time.
And every year, despite my pain,
They bob up again!
Months.
Bob up again!
Time.
Throughout the world, in every clime;
And so ’twill be, to the End of Time!
Months.
Throughout the world, in every clime;
And so ’twill be, to the End of Time!
[Dance and sing.]
With our play days, jolly days; heydays and holidays!
May days and mirth days; gala days and birthdays!
Olden days; new days; golden days and blue days!
Work days and school-days; shirk days, April Fool days!
Sundays and sleek days; wonder days and week-days!
Sundays and Mondays; rather underdone days!
Mondays and Tuesdays; please-to-pay-your-dues days!
Tuesdays and Wednesdays; women’s days and men’s days!
Wednesdays and Thursdays; kittens’ days and curs’ days!
Thursdays and Fridays; up-and-do-or-die days!
Fridays and Saturdays; mad-as-a-hatter days!
[They form a ring about Time and dance round him, repeating the song, while Time in the centre repeats his dance and song, “Quick time and slack time,” etc.]
CURTAIN.
TERTULLA’S GARDEN
or
THE MIRACLE OF GOOD ST. VALENTINE
(founded on a legend)
Valentine’s Day