Tom: Then we are agreed that of Santa Claus we have no need.
John: } Kate: } Tis what we all concede. Harry: } Maggie: }
(All sing to the tune of "Maryland, My Maryland.")
| Old Santa Claus is such a
bore, Of him we've had too much and more; Now what we want is something new, But what is there for us to do? A new St. Nick would be the thing, Who would our Christmas presents bring. |
(Electric bell sounds, the door opens, and Mr. St. Nicholas comes on the stage. He bows and takes off his hat.)
Mr. St. N.: Good evening, young people! I see you are at your old-time tricks of hanging up your stockings. This won't do. Don't you know it's gone out of fashion? (Goes toward fireplace; the boys rush to protect their property.)
John: Who are you, sir? And how dare you interfere with our fun?
Mr. St. N.: I am the new, up-to-the-times Santa Claus. My proper name is Mr. St. Nicholas. I am on my rounds to take the names of all the young people who deserve a remembrance at Christmas time. I haven't a moment to lose. My telephones are overburdened with messages, my men are distracted with the work to be done between now and daylight. (Pulls out a book and pencil and prepares to write while he addresses Tom and speaks rapidly without waiting for a reply.) Your name, young man? Your age, birthplace, parents' names? Residence? Attendant at what school? What specific tastes? List of last year's presents. Make haste, time is money.
Katie: But Santa—I mean Mr. St. Nicholas—here are our stockings.
Mr. St. N.: Christmas stockings! trash and nonsense. They belong to the dark ages.