To buy him a loaf of brown bread.
Enter Old Woman, with Children, L., from behind shoe. The largest hangs on to her skirts, the next in size to the largest, until they dwindle to the smallest; repeat song as they enter slowly, turn to R., march across stage; turn to L., march across again; turn to R., and form across stage.
O. W. Now go away, old man. 'Tis very queer
That you should seek to waste your sweetness here;
For we've no money, not a cent, to pay
For music; so you'd better up and move away.
Santa. Alas, alas! and can you be unkind
To one who's been by Fortune left behind;
Who has no friend, no money, and no clo'es;
The hunted victim of unnumbered woes?