[A moment's silence, then there is a great
clapping of hands, and slapping of each
other's shoulders, and all press forward
and shake hands gratefully with Peter.
Dutch [to Farmer]. Vot I tells you? No maitter how shtrict you goes for to be [slowly, and with emphasis], you cain't kills Christmas! Yust look at der liddle tree! Laist night ve all vas reddy to cut somebody's t'roat, und dis mornin'—Bresto! Shangch!—ve're de pest frien's efer. It's der Kinder, und der Tree, und Christmas! I tells you, der ain'd noddings like Christmas der whole vorld rount!
[The Farmer, who has been unbending gradually,
at last nods in hearty acquiescence.
Music strikes up, and all sing "Christmas
Song." Bub and Sonny, unmolested,
climb up to examine the little tree.
CHRISTMAS SONG[31]
Frank E. Savile.
