VI.

THE CROWNING OF CHRIST.

MAS.

BY MRS. M. L. GADDESS.

CHARACTERS.

PROPERTIES.

D

Duende, the fairy umpire.
Spring, with six maids.
Summer, with six maids.
Autumn, with six maids.
Winter, with six maids.
Prologue.

Two Farmer Lads.
Quartet to sing behind

scenes.

Herald.

Two silver wands.

Natural or artificial flowers for each season.

Three bundles of cornstalks. Fruit.

COSTUMES.

UENDE-Pale blue tulle, gilt crown, blue stockings and white sandals. Hair short. She carries silver wand.

Prologue-White satin dress with train and low neck, flowing hair, dressed with bands of silver across brow, jewels, but no flowers; silver wand.

Spring-Pale yellowish-green tulle, trimmed with daisies, violets, and other spring flowers. Across her shoulders is a wreath of flowers and her hands are full of blossoms. Her six attendants, little girls, wear white, and carry spring flowers.

Summer-Bright pink tulle, trimmed with roses; a crown of roses. Her hands are full of roses. Her six maids are older than the six of Spring. Two wear pale blue, with morning-glories and vines, two wear yellow, with yellow roses, jessamine and blackeyed susans; two wear white with lace, crimson roses and vines.

Autumn-Light brown tulle, with poppies and autumn leaves. Her six maids are about 18 years old. They wear darker brown gowns, and carry sheaves of different grains, grapes, sumac, golden rod and leaves.

Winter-Frosted tulle, trimmed with swansdown, hair powdered, and long white veil. Her six maids wear long dark cloaks coming to the ground and hoods bordered with swansdown.

Farmer Lads-Regular farm-boys' dress. Herald-Black velvet, white satin coat, low shoes and silver buckles. He carries a wand,

PROLOGUE.

"THE CONVOCATION OF THE SEASONS." Within the cycle of a year

Twelve sisters lived and moved and bore The burden of the work and care,

And none of them could do much more.

Their names you all have often heard,

And watched their coming day by day; And so it will be 'till the world

We live in shall have passed away.

At peace they were 'till someone came
And asked the question: Which of all
Was greatest and had done must good-
Spring, Summer, Winter, or the Fall?

You may have noticed, now and then,
How such suggestions often prove
A cause of grief to women, men,
Who but for arguments had loved.
Such is, alas! the case I bring

Before you now; they will not wait To let the long years speak for them, But now the verdict here await. [PROLOGUE Waves wand and curtain rises on a wood scene. In the centre is a tree trunk arranged as a rustic throne; a large stone in front forms a step to it. Seated on the throne is DUENDE, the fairy queen. PROLOGUE walks up to her.]

PROLOGUE. Are you the fairy of the wood? If so, I bring a message to you. If you may not answer me, lift your wand that I may show you the reason I have called you here.

[DUENDE lifts wand.]

moments on the same scene, with the addition of four mounds to represent hillocks placed here and there. They can be made of boards and covered with any material to look like grass. They are marked Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter. The throne of DUENDE may be trimmed with vines, but its rustic character must not be lost. Soft music of romantic style is played. When curtain rises, DUENDE is on throne. sounds whistle. SPRING enters, followed by six little girls.]

SPRING [to DUende].

She

When Winter's reign is over we are the first to come.

I bring with me these flowers so sweet,
To scatter perfume at your feet.

All hearts grow sad in Winter's day-
The whole world greets the month of May,
The rivers burst their icy chain,

Glad sunshine kisses bud and tree,
And meadow, forest, hill and plain
Break into gladsome melody.

[DUENDE waves wand, and SPRING stands aside.]

DUENDE [to girls accompanying SPRING].
If you are mortals in this guise,
You seem too lovely to be wise;
Yet speak and tell me, if you know,
Which season doth best gifts bestow?
Spring may be lovely, sweet and fair,
As May herself doth here declare;
But more than this I wish to hear-
Why is the spring of all most dear?

[BUTTERCUP advances, while others form a half-circle with her in the centre.]

BUTTERCUP.

Dear, dainty fairy of the wood,
The reason why the spring is good-
She wakens life from death, and we
Thus prove our immortality.
That is the boon above all given
Which links mortality to heaven;
And every bud and flower in bloom
Has broken open Nature's tomb;
And there is something in the heart
Which craves a higher, better part;
And only in another sphere

Attain what we have wished for here.
DUENDE.

Enough! You hold a magic power;
Retire and wait my will, sweet flower.

[SPRING throws herself on mound marked for her and her maids stand around behind her. Music sounds, and Summer enters, attended by six maids. She scatters roses right and left, as she advances to DUENDE.]

SUMMER.

My pathway is all strewn with flowers;
Life seems too brief. These happy hours,
These summer days, are sweetest, best,
Beyond compare above the rest.
Who would rejoice alone to live
When earth has joy like ours to give?
We bring the breath of summer fair,

And scatter perfume everywhere.
Each tinkling stream, as it dashes along,
Seems to reëcho the same sweet song:
"Perfect and bright is the summer day;
Tarry yet with us; go not away."
I steal in the homes of sick and poor,
And softly I bid them to hope once more;
Fond memories return to the old and weak,
And the flush of health to the sunken cheek.
All hearts rejoice, and the smiling sky
Seems still more beautiful in July.

DUENDE [waving Summer aside]. Maidens fair, from the land of flowers, What have done for this world of ours? Scattered rich perfume along the way, Gladdened sad hearts for a brief bright

day.

you

But why are you better than springtime? Say.

[Maidens join hands, and one replies:] We are the type of perfection below; Others but hope for the things that we

know.

Everything beautiful, everything dear, Comes in the summer to comfort and cheer. They sow for that end, and they wait through the spring

To see what the coming of summer will bring.

The year is complete when our kisses doth lie

Upon her in blessing-the world loves July.

Grateful and good are the gifts you bring; Sweet are the songs that the glad birds sing;

Lovely the flowers and the smiling sky—
Seems to be brighter when you are nigh.
Yet tarry a little; the year is long,

And others may sing us as sweet a song.

[They take position marked for Summer. AUTUMN enters to soft music, with six maids. When they are in position, two farmer lads bring in and lay at DUENDE's feet grain, and then go out. AUTUMN advances and kneels.]

AUTUMN. We offer you, Duende, the autumn gifts of the harvést. Nothing that we could say would speak to you as these things. Grateful hearts we bring, and leave with you our tribute. [Rises.]

DUENDE [raising wand]. Stay! I still would know why the autumn is better than all other seasons that have passed before you. They prepared the way you may only have followed; opened up the fields, plowed and planted for you. Summer suns have warmed and her dews have watered-why should autumn claim the good gifts of the harvest? Speak! I wait to learn why November is better than the other seasons.

MAIDS.

Just as the perfect flower is better far than the blossom;

Just as the harvest day is safer far than the seedtime;

We come from over the mountains,

We pass far over the sea,

From lands of frost and ice and snow,
To where the summer winds still blow;
December carries every year

A message of peace from far and near.
Many a wanderer far away
Remembers still the Christmas day,
When 'round the hearth he gathered, too,
To hear the songs we sing to you:
"Peace and good-will," the angels sang,
And heaven with hallelujahs rang;
For Christ was born on Christmas day,
Both men below and angels say.
If winter brought us only this,
It were enough of happiness;
But joy and rest from toil and care,

The year's work done, we earn our share
Of all the good things of the season;

On a winter's night, when our hearts are

light,

And breath is on the wind

We loose the rein and sweep the plain,

And leave all cares behind.

As merrily on, as merrily on, as merrily on we bound:

As merrily on, as merrily on, as merrily on we bound.

Oh, swift we go o'er the fleecy snow,
While moonbeams sparkle round,
When hoofs keep time to music's chime,
As merrily on we bound.

Though the spring may bring her promise

fair,

And the summer flowers sweet;

At the autumn's call the harvests fall,
Then the wintertime we greet.

So throw dull care to the winds away,
For life at best is fleet,

And all enjoy the wintertime-
List to the sleighbells sweet.
[Bells ring during the last chorus.]
DUENDE.

You talk of mirth and gayety,
But who these quiet ones we see?
They seem not in the revelry.

[Instantly every cloak is tossed off and the six maids stand clad in bright scarlet dresses trimmed with swansdown, holly leaves and berries. WINTER tosses her veil over the group to have the appearance of snow covering. One of the MAIDS speaks.]

So now we have brought all our offerings to you,

Expecting to hear what each season shall do, But as we our lesson have learned very well,

Permit us a secret, dear fairy, to tell. Nay, rather a boon I would ask at your hands,

I know each and all will obey your commands;

And, as it is Christmas, the time of goodwill,

And all of us sometimes remember it still, Let's join, ere we sever, in one parting song Together, forgetting whose right and whose

A united, happy band,

Ere we part let's all unite

In a pleasant, kind good-night.

Use them well, and be contented
Only when your best is done.
Now, farewell. Duende leaves you
Happy in each other's love;
Let not arguments of strangers

In your breasts dissension move.
In this world so fair and lovely

All may share the blessings given,
And together live in union,

Thanking God and earning heaven. [The four seasons stand hand in hand, while the maids form a half-circletwelve on each side, thus:

VII.

A MISUNDERSTANDING.

T was after the ball on Christmas eve.

I Echoing fragments of the waltz rang

in his ears.

As the coupé ran skimmingly westward over Jackson Boulevard, the flickering street lights revealed and concealed her face. The light and shadows enhanced her beauty, for he had never seen her so entrancing before. Up the broad steps into her home. The gas burned low. Her slender fingers hung to his a moment. She stood directly under the gas jet, upon which someone, in anticipation of the morrow, had hung a sprig of mistletoe.

He could not help it-he kissed her. She looked so pretty, so innocent, under that sprig of mistletoe.

Yes, it was an ungentlemanly and unmanly thing to do. Her frightened, startled look pained him. He stammered out a Her great eyes filled

miserable excuse.

with tears, and she gave a little choking sob when he apologized.

"Dear little innocent,' he thought, "I would not have hurt her for the world."

"

And she? After he was gone, she dropped into a great chair and sobbed. Like him? I love him. And to think that he should kiss me at last, and then say he didn't mean anything by it. What does he think I put the mistletoe there for.

CH

VIII.

A CHRISTMAS GUEST.

Monologue for a Man.

BY RUTH MCENERY STUART. 'HRISTMAS! An' a boy! An' she doin' well! No wonder that ol' turkey-gobbler sets up on them rafters blinkin' at me so peaceful! He knows he's done passed a critical time o' life.

You've done crossed another bridge saft, ol' gobbly, an' you can afford to blink, an' to set out in the clair moonlight, 'stid o' roostin' back in the shadders, same ez you been doin'. You was to 've died by accident las' night, but the new visitor that's dropped in on us ain't cut 'is turkey teeth yet, an' his mother

Lord, how that name does sound! Mother! I hardly know 'er by it, long ez I been tryin' to fit the name to 'er-an' fearin' to, too, less'n somethin' might go wrong with either one.

I even been callin' him "it" to myself all along, so 'feered that ef I set my min' on either the "he" or "she," the other one might take a notion to come; an' I didn't want any disappointment mixed in with the arrival. But now he's come an' registered, ez they say at the polls, I know I sort o' counted on the boy, some way.

Lordy! but he's little. Ef he hadn't a' showed up so many of his functions spontaneous, I'd be oneasy less'n he mightn't have 'em; but they're there, bless goodness!

they're there! An' he snez prezac'ly, for all the world, like my po' ol' pap—a reg'lar little cat snez, thess like all the Joneses.

Well, Mr. Turkey, befo' I go back into the house, I'm a-goin' to make you a solemn promise. You go free tell about this time next year, anyhow. You an' me'll celebrate the birthday between ourselves with that contrac'. You needn't get oneasy Thanksgivin', or picnic-time, or Easter, or no other time 'twixt this an' nex' Christmas-less'n, of co'se, you stray off an' git stole. An' this here reprieve, I want you to understand, is a present from the junior member of the firm. The Century.

He's quiet and sober and earnest;

Not handsome as most rate the term, But steady and upright and thoughtful, And gentle, though fearless and firm.

His word never yet has been broken;
His manhood's best powers are for God;
He's one who will win in life's battle.

Though none perchance ever will laud.
He's one whom the best might be proud of,
My hero, my lover, my king;
And, though my lips still keep their silence,
'Tis not they have nothing to sing.
But I would not drag my beloved

Before that gay, laughing, young crowd, Who reck not of love, but of loversThe handsome, the brilliant, the proud.

But oh, let them have their gay lovers, These heartless and fickle young flirts; Give me my own true, steady hero,

Whose love all my happiness girts.

'Tis not those we love that we talk of. The waters most deep run most still; Our holiest feelings, affection's

Discussion would ruthlessly kill.

No wonder my lips then keep silence-
My love is too deep to declaim;
But down in my heart's sacred corner
Is written my dear father's name.