(As the curtain rises, Harold and Ethel are wearily dragging themselves across stage—when center is reached, Ethel stops, and in tears she refuses to go any further.)
Ethel (tearfully): Harold, I just can’t go another step, I want to go home to mamma.
Harold: Don’t cry, Sis, you know I believe we’re almost there—if you only think of the fun we will have when we find Santa, you will forget all about being tired.
Ethel: I know it will be lots of fun to see Santa, and, if we ever do find him, I’m going to ask him to show me all his wonderful toys. But I think I’d rather wait until next year. I want mamma.
(No longer able to restrain herself, she bursts out crying, much to the undoing of Harold.)
Harold: See here, Sis, please don’t cry. When we get home I’ll give you my new cricket bat and ball. Perhaps if we sit down for a little while we will get rested. I’ll just gather a few of these branches—that will be better than sitting on the cold ground.
(Harold arranges the branches as a little bed down stage, and places Ethel upon it.)
Ethel: How lonely it is here at night. Can you see any houses near?