PART II.
Dialogues, Exercises, Musical Pieces and Plays
ALL THE YEAR ’ROUND.
For One Adult or Large Boy and One Small Boy.
Santa Claus must be made to look very short and fat.
Boy enters, sits down, leans elbow on table and his head on his hand.
Boy. Whatever shall I do? Christmas is almost here and not a single thing finished. You see (addressing audience), when a fellow’s folks have a small purse and a large family there’s no such thing as spending money for us boys. (Gets up, walks back and forth talking, with hands in pockets.) All we earn goes for shoes, I guess. (Stops and looks at his own, then looks up laughing.) Anyhow, they wear out fast enough. (Resumes walk.) But I’m glad I’m big enough to work for my own shoes. If I did nothing but play while father worked for me I’d feel worse than anything. (To audience.) You know how that is. Besides, I’m the oldest of the bunch and ought to be worth something. But you know—(stopping) it does beat all how many things grown folks can find for boys to do.
I go to school—of course—and I take a job whenever I can catch it out of school hours, and I carry papers mornings, but that don’t take all the time, and I thought I’d get a lot of things done for Christmas since I can’t buy things. But do you s’pose I’ve done it? (Sits down.) No, sir-ee. Not a thing finished.
I was making a shoe box for father and I haven’t got any farther than getting a box to work on, for I’ve had to milk the cow and feed the chickens—and mend the gate—’cause father was away. Then I had a new woodbox for mother—a jolly nice one—all trimmed with bars of wood and stained; but, no, sir, mother, she needed me for ’bout a hundred and ’leven things, and work at it I couldn’t. And this boat for Bub (shows it), not half done. And a bob-sled for little Sis—and a photograph frame for Gramma—and—oh, pshaw. I’m just plum disappointed, and that’s the truth. Not a gift done for anybody. (Leans elbows on knees and chin on hands.) If I was a girl I guess I’d cry. (Santa Claus walks in, lays his hand on Boy’s shoulder. Boy jumps up as he looks around.) Jiminy! You most scared me. (Bows.) How de do?
Santa Claus. Very well, thank you: and how do you do? What’s the trouble?