A CHRISTMAS COLLOQUY.
MR. and MRS. BURTON.
TOMMY, aged seven.
MAY, aged five.
LUCY, aged eighteen.
MR. and MRS. REMSEN.
HARRY, } Twins, aged
SADIE, } six.
PATRICK, a hired man.
Scene: The Burtons' parlor on Christmas Eve.
Mr. B. Tommy! stop making such a noise.
Tommy. Oh, I can't have any fun at all!
Mr. B. Why, yes you can. Look at all your toys scattered about. Play something quietly.
Tommy. Nobody to play with.
Mr. B. Play with your little sister.
Tommy. She's sitting in mamma's lap; besides, she's a girl. Oh, papa [running to his father] I wish the Remsens would come! I want to play with Harry.
Mr. B. [hastily]. Never mind, never mind! The Remsens will not come.
May. Why wont the Remsens come?
Tommy. Oh, dear me, there isn't anything nice to do!
Mr. B. Tommy, stop your whining. Don't say another word. May, don't speak of the Remsens again. They are not coming, and that's an end of it.
[Enter LUCY.]
Lucy. What! tears on Christmas Eve, little May! And Tommy pouting! Oh, that'll never do! Come, cheer up! You'll have plenty of fun soon with Harry and Sadie.—It must be nearly time to send for the Remsens, father.
Mr. B. [vexed]. Don't speak of them again. They're not coming, and I don't want them. Why will every one keep talking about them?
[Enter PATRICK.]
Mrs. B. [aside to Lucy]. Mr. Remsen and your father have quarreled about a piece of land; so the Remsens are not to come this year.
Mr. B. Well, Patrick, what is it?
Patrick. Shure, the horse is ready, sir.
Mr. B. Horse ready? What for?
Patrick. To be goin' for the Rimsins, shure!
Mr. B. [angrily]. We are not going for the Remsens! What do you mean by acting without orders? Take the horse out at once!
Patrick. Widout orthers, is it? An' it's mesilf, thin, that hitched up the crather every Christmas Ave I've lived wid yous for to go for them same.
Mr. B. Don't answer, sir; do as I bid you.
Patrick [aside]. It's plain the masther's rin his nose forninst something harrud. [Exit.]
Mrs. B. [going to Mr. B. and putting her arm about him, he sitting]. Dear John, send for the Remsens, please. See how everything conspires to ask it of you, from the prattle of the children to old Patrick himself. It is Christmas Eve, dear! How can we teach the dear chicks to be kind to each other unless we set the example? Send for our old friends, John. They've been with us every Christmas Eve these many years. You'll settle your affair with Mr. Remsen all the better, afterward.
Mr. B. Why, Mary, would you have me crawl at the feet of a man who tries to overreach me?
Mrs. B. No, John! But stand on your own feet, and say: "Come, neighbor, let us do something better and wiser than hate each other."
Mr. B. I'll not do it. He has—
Lucy. Hark! What's that?
[Music outside—the sound of a harp, or of a concealed piano played very softly.
Then, to its accompaniment, is sung the following carol:]
"Be merry all, be merry all!
With holly dress the festive hall,
Prepare the song, the feast, the ball,
To welcome Merry Christmas.
"And, oh! remember, gentles gay,
To you who bask in fortune's ray
The year is all a holiday:—
The poor have only Christmas.
"When you the costly banquet deal
To guests who never famine feel,
Oh spare one morsel from your meal
To cheer the poor at Christmas.
"So shall each note of mirth appear
More sweet to heaven than praise or prayer,
And angels, in their carols there,
Shall bless the poor at Christmas."
Lucy. Oh, what a beautiful carol! I'll call in the minstrel.
Mrs. B. Yes, run Lucy! [Exit LUCY.]
Mr. B. Set a chair by the fire, Tommy.
[Enter LUCY, with old minstrel carrying harp.]
Minstrel. Good even, gentle folks, and a merry Christmas to you all!
Mrs. B. Come sit by the fire. Tommy placed the chair for you. It is cold outside.
Minstrel. Thank you kindly, ma'am. So Tommy set the chair for the old man? Where is Master Tommy? Ah, there's my little man! Come here, Tommy. That's right. So, up, on my knee. Why, that's a bright face now! And it ought to be bright, too; for this is Christmas Eve, merry Christmas Eve, the children's happy time. Tommy, I remember when I was as young as you are. I had a little sister.
Tommy. I have a little sister, too.
Minstrel. Oh, you have a little sister, eh! Where is she, then?
Tommy [pointing]. Over there, in the corner.
Minstrel. Bless my old eyes, so she is! Run and bring her, Tommy.
[TOMMY runs, and returns leading and coaxing MAY.]
Minstrel [setting one on each knee]. Now, good folks, if you'll let me, I'll tell these little people a story of Jesus when he was a little boy. It is called "The Holy Well."
[They group themselves about the minstrel.]
Early one bright May morning, Jesus, then a little boy of ten or twelve years, awoke, and at once remembered that it was a holiday. His eyes, bright with the morning light, sparkled yet more brightly at the thought. There would be no school, no work. All the people would keep the feast. He knew, too, that on that day, the boys of his age would assemble betimes to play together at The Holy Well. So, brimful of joyful expectation, he ran to ask his mother's leave to go and join in the merry games. Soon he was on his way, and he quickened his steps when he came in sight of the troops of happy children running hither and thither in their sports. Drawing nearer, he stood still a little while, watching the games with pleased and eager eyes. Then he called out: "Little children, shall I play with you, and will you play with me?" Now, these boys and girls were the children of rich parents, and lived in much finer houses than the one Jesus had for a home. They had handsome clothes, too, and everything of the best. So they looked on the plainly dressed stranger, the son of a poor carpenter, and bade him begone, saying: "We will not play with you, or with any such as you!" What a rebuff was that! The poor, sensitive little lad had not expected it, and his tender feelings were hurt. His eyes filled with tears; and running home as fast as he could, he laid his head in his mother's lap, and sobbed out to her the whole story. Then Mary was angry with the ill-natured children, and told her son to go back and destroy them all by his word; for she believed that her beautiful boy could do such things. But, surely, if he could have harbored that thought, he would not have been beautiful; and so, when his mother spoke, her words drew away his thoughts from himself to the children who had grieved him. He knew that they had never really known him, and so could not have understood what they were doing. Therefore he said to his mother that he must be helpful and gentle to people, and not destroy them. And that was the way with him to the very end. For when, years after, the people (perhaps among them some of those same children grown-up) were putting him to death on a cross, he bethought him again that they did not really know him, and prayed: "Father, forgive them; they know not what they do." And, even before then, he had told all people to love their enemies, and forgive and be good to one another. If he had not done all that, Christmas would not be so happy a time for us.
Mrs. B. [approaching her husband and laying her hand on his shoulder]. John, is not he right?
Mr. B. [who has been lost in thought, starting and abruptly walking aside]. He is right! So are they all. [Turning about.] Dear wife, Lucy, Tommy, May, you shall be happy! We'll have the Remsens! I say, we'll have our dear old friends. Patrick shall harness the horse at once, and—[The Minstrel suddenly strips off his disguise and reveals himself as MR. REMSEN.] What! Remsen! Is that you?
Mr. R. No need to harness up, old friend. Here I am! Ah! I knew how it would be.
Tommy [capering about]. Hi! Hi! Ho! Isn't it great, May? I shall have Harry to play with.
May [clapping]. And I shall have Sadie.
Lucy. Oh, what a delightful surprise! Oh, Mr. Remsen, I am glad, so very glad, that you have come. We will send for the others at once.
Mr. R. Why, they're all here, too. You may be sure we all came together. [Opening the door.] Come! come in! It's all right, as we knew it would be.
[Enter MRS. REMSEN and her children, HARRY and SADIE,
who immediately run to TOMMY and MAY.]
Mrs. B. [to Mrs. R.] Welcome, welcome, dear friend! This is kind.
Lucy. Now Christmas Eve is what it ought to be.
Mrs. R. Oh, Mrs. Burton, I am happy again now. I was afraid that Christmas would not bring love and joy for us this year. We could not help coming. Old memories were too strong for us.
Mr. R. to Mr. B. Ah! neighbor, it's a sad thing to interrupt that "peace on earth" of which the angels sung. There's my hand; take it kindly.
Mr. B. And there's mine, with all my heart. We'll not let a bit of land divide old friends.
Mr. R. Aye, aye! We'd better divide the land.
Mr. B. It seems easy to settle now. But no more of that to-night. Come, let us sing our Christmas carol. It will be sweeter than ever. Take your harp, friend, and turn minstrel again for the occasion.
With wond'ring awe,
Tho wise men saw
The star in Heaven springing,
And with delight
In peaceful night,
They heard the angels singing,
Hosanna, Hosanna
Hosanna to His name!
By light of star,
They traveled far
To seek the lowly manger;
A humble bed
Wherein was laid
The wondrous little stranger.
Hosanna, hosanna,
Hosanna to His name!
And still is found,
The world around,
The old and hallowed story;
And still is sung
In every tongue
The angels' song of glory:
Hosanna, hosanna,
Hosanna to His name!
The heavenly star
Its ray afar
On every land is throwing
And shall not cease
Till holy peace,
In all the earth is glowing.
Hosanna, hosanna,
Hosanna to His name!
