Ivan. And when she comes, the children sing their carols for her. But the one she loves best is the "Golden Carol"—that's the song of the Three Kings, you know, sir.
Semyon [in doorway]. The Babushka is coming now, with her followers, my lord. Here they are! [Enter a troop of village children, the Babushka in their midst, smiling on them, and now and then patting some little one on the head. She stands in the center of the stage and distributes gifts to the children from a quaint basket, answering their cries and questions by nods and smiles, each child exclaiming "Thank you!" "How nice!" etc., as he receives his gift.]
Children. Oh, Babushka! dear, good Babushka!
Sophia. Have you got something for everybody?
Malashka. Are you quite sure?
Sergius. Me, too, Babushka!
Masha. I've tried to be good, all the whole year!
Children. We all have, truly, Babushka.
Sergius. I've had good lessons—you can ask the school-teacher.