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Page 75
Then Mr. Rabbit got up on the stool and nearly covered himself with
moss; Mrs. Squirrel got under the tree and stood up on her hind-feet,
with an acorn in her paws; Minx curled herself up in the funniest way
on the moss; the sparrow flew up into the tree and began pecking at the
mountain-ash berries; Fran�aise and Lyd and Peg all sat down as well as
they could near the squirrel and the rabbit; Jumping Jack mounted the
horse and rode around beside the tree, to stand guard; Spot stood up on
his hind-legs just in front of the stool, with Scrubby's letter in his
mouth, and the chicken hopped up on Spot's head.
Then good old Lucy started to go upstairs after Scrubby, but she got no
further than the door. Scrubby had waked up and missed her dear old
doll, so she had come down to look for her, and there she stood now,
just inside the door, with her bright brown eyes wide open.
A minute before there had been only the scraggy little tree she had
taken care of, the battered old toys, the torn dolls and the little
pets she had played with and loved so well, the bird and the wild
creatures she had fed and chattered to, and a little bit of ivy and
green moss. But just as soon as she looked at them all, there was the
most beautiful Christmas-tree that ever was seen.
It was very curious; but it was the light that did it--the light of her
own happy eyes. It dies out of eyes that are older.
THE MINSTREL'S CAROL.
A CHRISTMAS COLLOQUY.
MR. and MRS. BURTON.
TOMMY, _aged seven._
MAY, _aged five._
LUCY, _aged eighteen._
MR. and MRS. REMSEN.
HARRY, } _Twins, aged_
SADIE, } _six._
PATRICK, _a hired man_.
_Scene: The Burtons' parlor on Christmas Eve_.
_Mr. B_. Tommy! stop making such a noise.
_Tommy._ Oh, I can't have any fun at all!
_Mr. B_. Why, yes you can. Look at all your toys scattered about. Play
something quietly.
_Tommy_. Nobody to play with.
_Mr. B_. Play with your little sister.
_Tommy_. She's sitting in mamma's lap; besides, she's a girl. Oh, papa
_[running to his father_] I wish the Remsens would come! I want to play
with Harry.
_Mr. B._ [_hastily_]. Never mind, never mind! The Remsens will not
come.
_May_. Why wont the Remsens come?
_Tommy_. Oh, dear me, there isn't anything nice to do!
_Mr. B_. Tommy, stop your whining. Don't say another word. May, don't
speak of the Remsens again. They are not coming, and that's an end of
it.
[_Enter_ LUCY.]
_Lucy_. What! tears on Christmas Eve, little May! And Tommy pouting!
Oh, that'll never do! Come, cheer up! You'll have plenty of fun soon
with Harry and Sadie.--It must be nearly time to send for the Remsens,
father.
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