Crispin: Gee, I must be going.
Maggie: So must I, Cris—but before we part I want to wish yer a Merry Christmas.
(Both start to walk away in opposite directions, but before leaving the stage Maggie stops.)
Maggie: Say, Cris, just a minute—’ave yer a jack knife in yer pocket?
(Cris searches his pockets—fishes out a rather dilapidated knife—opens it, and hands it to Maggie, who cuts apple in half—returns knife to Cris.)
Maggie: And ter make my wish come true, Cris—’er’s the ’alf of my apple.
(Both leave the stage, joyfully eating the apple and grinning from ear to ear.)
(Exit Maggie, Right.)
(Exit Crispin, Left.)
(Lamplighter. Enter right, lights street lamp and exit left.)