Miss D. Christmas is nothing, Gretchen. Nothing at all. Just a day for silly people to spend money on foolish things, and other people to be bored with their foolishness. You don’t catch me joining in any of it.
Gret. (aghast). But it vas Merry Christmas, Miss Dayton.
Miss D. (snappishly). “Merry Christmas!” And what have I to be merry about, I’d like to know?
Gret. Don’d you haf a fader, Miss Dayton?
Miss D. Dead, long ago.
Gret. Und a mudder? Und some brudders? (Puts apron to her eye.) Ach himmel! It makes me cry. I don’d haf ’em so long alretty yet.
Miss D. Oh, for goodness sake, Gretchen! Stop! I haven’t a living soul who cares whether I live or die. And I don’t want to have, if the price of them must be this nonsense about Christmas. If ever there was a heathen custom carried out without cause or reason, this one of Christmas is the one. Don’t talk to me.
Gret. Und you don’d half der Christmas kuchen? Und der ribbons? Und der dinner? Und der Christmas heim-lied? Ach, Miss Dayton! It vas all so dear.
Miss D. (angrily). No! I tell you. No! (After a pause, wearily.) How much you talk.
Gret. (pitifully). Some of mein Christmas kuchen comes to you, Miss Dayton, and then you vill not so lonely be.