  IN TWO ACTS CHARACTERS
A CANVAS CHRISTMASWritten for a club of boys from twelve to seventeen. ACT ITime: Ten o'clock on Christmas Eve. Scene: The mess-tent of Pepper's Perennial Circus, very bare and shabby, with circus litter about; signs, "No Smoking," "Next performance, 2 P.M.," posters, etc., on the tent walls; a rough mess-table of boards and trestles, with boxes, stools, two broken chairs, etc., for seats. Pile of old blankets in one corner. Lantern hangs in center of tent, and another [L.] at entrance to circus tent. [R.], another exit, leading out of doors. Music [if possible] from circus tent, playing last strains of "Home, Sweet Home." Burst of applause from circus tent, the flaps part, and the troupe enters [excepting Pepper, Mike, and the animals], weary and discontented, and drop down anywhere to rest. Hopkins throws himself on pile of blankets [R.], Jack takes a box nearby, Barney sits on table, and Jerry goes to entrance [R.], fanning himself with his hat. Ben takes box [L.], and Dutch enters last, slipping the straps of his peanut-tray from his shoulders and setting it on the end of the table. Harry [sullenly]. This 'ere's the worst night we've 'ad yet. Jack. You bet yer life! Barney. Faix! I've no futs left an me at all, at all! Tim [rubs his arms]. I'm lame all over. It's me for the liniment bottle! Jerry. I'm as tired as any of you guys, but I'm a good deal madder than I'm tired. Jack. I should say. Harry. 'Ow could we be h'anything but tired and h'angry, I'd like to h'arsk, with such a boss as old Pepper? Ben. Gen'lemen—Mr. Pepper he su'tinly war pretty bad, dis evenin'—in fac' I may say he war de limit. Jerry. And no excuse for it, either. Barney. Was it excuse, ye said? Dutch. Mishter Pepper he don't vaits for no excuse. You'd t'ink ve vas all der lazy loafers—und der ain'd a lazy bone in der whole boonch. [Enter Mike, with dog, and leading monkey. Mike. The sound of yez all is quite familiar. Be ye knockin' the boss again? Ben. We-all got mighty good reason, Mr. McGinnis. Harry. 'E's not getting a think but wot 'e's earned for 'isself. Jack. Work a fellow to skin and bone! Barney. Wid nary bit o' regard to his iligant muscle, Limber Jack? Jack. It's true—no joshin', Barney! Barney. Niver a bit of it, darlin'! Jerry. It's all work and no rest—— Mike. And niver a dacint worrud, even for the dumb bastes—— [Pats dog and monkey. Dog goes about from one to another expecting pats and caresses, which are absent-mindedly given. Monkey, unobserved, steals peanuts from tray.] Tim. Nothing but blame, morning, noon, and night! Dutch. Und ven der vork is ofer, ve don't gets noddings enough to eats—ain'd? Ben. Gentlemen, I'm 'bliged to admit dat I'm hungry all de day long! Harry. H'and h'all night, you might say, and no h'exaggeratin'. Tim. We're all of us half starved. Jerry [warningly]. Here's the boss, fellows! [Enter Peter, striding into tent and giving Peter [suspiciously]. What are you all doing here? You, Tim, get a hustle on and put out those lights in the big tent. [Exit Tim, slowly and sullenly.] Mike McGinnis, go put your beasts in their cages—look at that monkey wasting the peanuts! Dutch, you aren't worth your salt—can't you take care of your stuff? [Mike, with an injured air, leads out monkey and whistles dog after him. Dutch, much aggrieved, takes up tray, and moves it to another place.] Jerry Pickle, if you and O'Brien can't ring in something new for your turn, you'll soon be given the hook, and Ben's jokes are all stale enough to crumble. As for you, Hopkins, I consider your riding to-night a flunk, and you and Jack are no acrobats at all—you're just a couple of dubs. The show's always had the name of a first-class show, and it's going to keep up to it, if I've got to throw you all out and get a new lot. So you want to look out—see? [Exit angrily.] Harry [jumping up]. There's a-goin' to be h'end of this—as sure as my name's 'Arry 'Opkins! Jerry. Well, I'm with you, for one. We never go into winter quarters for a rest—— Harry. No, for the h'old skinflint goes and brings 'is bloomin' show South—— Jerry. So's he can keep open all year round, and double his profits. Dutch. Und vat does ve get oud of ut? Yust noddings. Jerry. I should say not! We're half paid and half fed, and worked double, and I for one have took all I'll stand. Jack. I'm with you there. Tim. So'm I, Jerry. Barney. Bedad, it's in the same box we all are. Mike. True for you, Barney. We'd all better be quittin'. Ben. Gen'lemen! dis yere 'lustrous Company a' unanimous. We all 'low dat Mr. Pepper have got to reform. We-all mus' draw up a partition an' prohibit Mr. Pepper for conduc' unbecomin' to a Ringmaster. Gen'lemen, let us take action. Harry. H'action be blowed! If it's 'ighly satisfactory to h'agitate petitions, or throw up your jobs—w'y, I calls that just nothin' doin'. No h'A-1 h'acrobat is a-goin' to stand bein' told 'e's flunked in his best h'act. I don't till I've pied 'im h'up. [A murmur of assent, and all draw closer Barney. That's something like talk, that is! Mike. I'm wid yez, Harry, me b'y. Jerry. I'd like to burn his old show over his head. Tim. Just doctor his wagon-axles a little, and when they break down, we'll take to the woods! Jack. Much he'll get a new lot. Ben. No, gen'lemen—I got dat proposition beat—— [Words become inaudible; they draw closer Bub. This is sure enough the circus, Sonny. Look at those men. [The troupe fall apart guiltily, and look with Bub [grips Sonny's hand and comes forward slowly]. Please, mister, is the circus all over? Ben. Laws, honey, you didn' 'spec' to fin' no circus dis time o' night? Barney. Sure, an' ut's time we was all tucked into our little beds, an' the same to you, bedad. Harry. Maybe you'll do us the honor to tell us your names? Bub [impressively]. My name is Benjamin Franklin Simpson. Sonny. An' mine is Daniel Webster Simpson. Mike [pretends to faint]. Oh, would some of yez have the goodness to fan me! [Jack obliges him.] Jerry. Give us a shorter one! They don't call you that every time you get your orders, I'm sure. [Enter Pepper, watching unnoticed from Bub. No; I'm just Bub, and he's Sonny. Tim. That's more like it. Jack. Breathe easy, Mike. Harry. Well, Mr. Benjamin Franklin Bub, will you h'inform us where you 'ails from? Bub. We live over the mountain, by Pinesburg, an' we wanted to see the circus, so we just ran off and came. Jerry. Pinesburg—that's ten miles off. How'd you say you come? Bub. Just walked. Sonny [rubbing his fists in his eyes]. An' the circus is all over, an' I'm so tired! [Men murmur sympathetically, and the group breaks and re-forms around the boys. Men gather about, some squatting near the boys, others standing behind.] Barney. Futted it ivery shtep! Mike. Tired, is it?—yez must be dead! Harry. Poor kids! Dutch. Und ve all leafin' der kinder shtandin'. Here—der box seats ain'd all sold yet. [Brings box and seats them kindly.] Ben [kneeling before them]. Why—dey shoes is all bust out—— Jerry. The poor kids ought to be in bed. Tim. Did you have any supper? Jack. When did you say you started? Bub. Right after dinner, an' we thought we could get here for the show to-night, but, you see, Sonny couldn't walk very fast—— Sonny [sets up a howl, gives Bub a punch that nearly knocks him off the box, and rubs his eyes harder than ever]. I did, too, now, Bub! I walked an' I walked an' I walked, so I did! An' I want my supper, I do, an' I want to go to bed! Jerry. Hustle off, Dutch, and get the poor kid some grub—— [Exit Dutch in haste. Barney. Sure an' one of them can bunk with me. Jack. I'll take the other in my bunk. Mike. If it's blankets they're wantin' they're welcome to mine. Ben. Dey's lots ob blankets, gen'lemen! I'll fix 'em a place tergedder as sof' as a fedder-bed! [Pepper comes forward. Harry [under his breath]. 'Ere's the h'old h'ogre wot'll scare 'em to death. Pepper [with unexpected amiability]. That's right, Ben, make 'em up a good bed in the sleeping-tent with the extra blankets. What do you fellows suppose their marm's thinking, about now? [Exit Ben.] You kids, did you say you ran away? Bub [a little frightened]. Ye-es, sir—we couldn't help it. You see—our folks is strict. They never went to circuses, and they don't let their boys go. Pepper. Well, has your folks got a telephone?—most farmers've got 'em these days. Bub and Sonny. Yes, sir—— Pepper [giving Tim money]. Here, Tim, you run out and telephone to—— Simpson, is it? Bub. Yes, sir,—Jonathan Simpson. Pepper. And tell him his kids are safe, and we'll take care of 'em all right. [Tim starts out.] And, Tim—— [Follows him and speaks aside.] Fix it up with him to let 'em stay to the afternoon show. [Pepper lingers with Tim at tent door. Barney. Will yez all hark to that! Harry. I didn't think 'as 'ow 'e 'ad h'it h'in 'im! Others. No! [Enter Dutch with thick sandwiches, which Dutch. So! Das ist besser. Ben. How'd dat chile's sho't legs ebber do ten mile, anyhow? Jerry. Pretty sandy, that! Pepper. What did you boys run away for on Christmas Eve—weren't you afraid of missing your presents and the Christmas Tree? Bub [between bites]. Presents? We don't get none! Sonny. I never saw a Christmas Tree. [He grows very sleepy and leans his head against Bub, who keeps moving and letting it slip off while talking with the men.] Dutch [horrified]. You don't effer hafe no Christmas? Bub. No. I told you our folks is strict. My dad didn't let us go to the Christmas Tree they had at the Sunday-school, neither. Pepper. I didn't suppose that kind of strictness was left in the country. Bub [with conviction]. My dad's that kind of strict. Ben. Dat po' chile's mos' ersleep now. Come on, honey. Ben'll take you to bed. [Lifts Sonny in his arms.] Pepper. That's right, Ben. Run on with him, Bub—Ben'll take care of you. [Exit Ben, with children. Enter Tim.] Well, Tim, did you get Simpson? Tim. Yes, sir, and he says he'll come and fetch the kids in the morning—he won't on no account let them stay to see the show. [General groan of indignation. Barney. The like of him ain't fit to live! Harry [disgusted]. Wot sort of chap do you call that! Jerry. Can't we do nothin' about it? Pepper. Sure you did your best, Tim?—you didn't make him mad, maybe? Tim. Me? No, sir! But he was madder about the kids than he was scared about them, I reckon. Mike. An' does he think he desarves to get thim back, I'd like to know? Let's kape thim ourselves! Jack. We need a couple of kids in the show. That Bub's a sharp one! Pepper. No, fellows—that won't do. Perhaps the mother's a different kind. [Enter Ben, speaks to Mike. The rest listen. Ben. Dey's jus' wore out, dose chillen—done fall ersleep 'fo' I got de blanket over dem. Jerry. I tell you what, fellows. That old flub of a farmer won't get in very early—let's give 'em a show all to themselves. What say? Jack. Bully scheme! Mike. That's classy, that is! Harry [aside to Jerry]. S'pose the boss'll let us do a stunt like that? Not on yer life! Pepper. Very good idea, Barney. You'll have all morning for it, sure. [Troupe surprised and delighted. General Pepper [clearing his throat and hesitating a little]. Oh—a—a—I was going to say—these kids seem to have rather a slow time of it. What do you fellows say we do it up brown—go the whole figure and—well, a little Christmas won't hurt us, either. Let's give them a Christmas Tree. I'll set up the fixin's for it! [An instant's pause of utter amazement, then Ben [coming forward, raps on the mess-table and raises his voice]. Gen'lemen! I'd like to offer de resolution dat we all gib t'ree cheers fo' Mr. Pepper! [Cheers given with a will. CURTAIN ACT IITime: Christmas morning. Scene: Same as Act I. During first part of scene, the troupe, all but Pepper and Tim, are very busy arranging tent for their special performance. Barney and Dutch move mess-table to [R.], cover it with red cloth, and set two boxes upon it as seats for the guests of honor. Ben and Jerry bring in a gymnasium mattress and a small low platform, which they arrange [Center], covering it with a bright-colored cloth. Harry, Jack, and Mike set soap-boxes with boards for seats at back of stage. Barney. Did yez iver see annything loike the change in the Boss? Ben. I jes' lay awake half de night studyin' 'bout it. Jerry. I tell you, he's just treatin' those two kids white, he is. Jack. First time ever, for him. Mike. I'm just shtruck doomb, I am. Says I to meself, says I, "There's magic in ut." Dutch. Nein,—it's dot little Christmas Tree vot doos ut. Harry. Well, h'anyway, 'e's h'evidently 'ad a change of 'eart. 'Ow's the kids this morning? Ben. Fine as silk! I war expectin' to fin' 'em all tuckered out, but not a bit of it, sir! Dey's sharp as persimmons. Don' seem lak dey could a-walked all dat way widout no lift. Barney. Did yez tell them about the show, thin? Dutch. Ve did, und dey're so oxzited dot it seem like dey'd shump out o' deir shkins. Jerry. Have they heard of the tree? Ben. No. Mr. Pepper, he say, don' let on—keep dat fer er s'prise. Dutch. Und since deir folks iss such heathens—dey ain'd t'inkin' 'bout noddings like dot. Jack. Hustle up—you talk too much. The kids' folks'll be here after them if you don't get a move on. Mike [gazing with pride at the result of their labors]. It's a foine soight, sure. Harry [leading the way to the tent door]. Come along, fellows—it looks to me as 'ow we're ready. 'Oo'll be the 'erald an' tell 'em we're comin'? [Exeunt all but Dutch. Dutch [goes to footlights and speaks to the piano]. If der bant vill blees be so kint und blay a chune fer der grant marsh! [Exit. After a moment enter Dutch and Ben with the children, Sonny hanging to Ben's hand and dancing with excitement. They are lifted into place.] Ben. Now, den, honey, you-all's gwine to see der circus, sho' 'nuff. Dutch. So! Is you gomf'table? [Exeunt Ben and Dutch. Bub. Oh, Sonny, we're goin' to have a circus all to ourselves. Sonny. It's better than just comin' in like other folks, isn't it, Bub? Bub. Oh, lots! I guess it's a sure enough Christmas, too, Sonny. [He rocks to and fro with delight. The piano plays a gay, quick march, and the Circus enters, Dutch. Beanuts! Beanuts! Here's your fresh-roasted beanuts! Bop-corn! Bop-corn und beanuts! Jack. How do you sell 'em, Dutch? Dutch [incensed]. You tink I vould sell dem on Christmas? Vot you take me for, hein? Haf some—it's a bresunt. [Passes them about, and then takes up his stand (R. front) just behind the boys. Pepper steps forward and stands beside the platform. Makes a fine sweeping bow to the boys.] Pepper [with his best professional manner], Mr. Benjamin Franklin Simpson and Mr. Daniel Webster Simpson, we have the great honor to make you welcome to the most world-renowned, the most marvelous single-ring circus upon the face of this Terrestrial Globe—Pepper's Perennial Circus, so named because it never folds its tents from season's end to season's end. I, Gentlemen, am Peter Piper Pepper, the fortunate proprietor of this colossal assemblage of artists. The members of my Company have desired the honor of being presented to you personally before they exhibit to you their unparalleled skill. It gratifies me exceedingly to comply with this wish. [Steps to side of platform and motions to troupe. As he calls them by name they step forward and bow, with flourishes.] Gentlemen, allow me to present to you the distinguished, the glorious Signor Frencelli, and Signor Cocodilla, who have charmed the crowned heads of Europe. [The clowns come forward and bow.] Dutch [sotto voce to the boys]. Deir names is Barney O'Brien und Jerry Pickle, but dot vouldn't do for der bosters. [Clowns sit down.] Pepper. Gentlemen, you see before you the world-renowned Marco Brothers, known from the frozen North to the sunny South, for their skill and ability in acrobatic feats. One of them also is a famous bareback rider and performer of feats of equestrian valor. He has a further talent of which you will be given an example a little later. [Hopkins and Limber Jack make their bows. Dutch. Dot's Harry Hopkins, und de big feller is Limber Jack. Dey yust bass for brudders. Pepper. Now, Gentlemen, our show has the distinction of possessing the great Mr. Barlow, the only native African minstrel upon any stage. Mr. Barlow is a prince in his own country, and indeed we esteem him a prince in whatever sphere he may adorn. Dutch. Dot's Ben Chackson, und he ain't crossed no vater vider dan der riffer. [Makes a face.] But ve makes it up to der peoples vat pays for der seats. Pepper. And now, Gentlemen, last, but not least we have the noted, the justly celebrated Professor Wormwood, whose successful methods of training the dog and the monkey until they are rendered all but human, have been copied the world over. Professor Wormwood, with his dog, Schneider, and his South American monkey, Jocko. [Mike steps upon the stage with the dog and Dutch. Dot's Mike McGinnis. Bub. Have the dog and the monkey got some other names, too? Dutch. No,—dey don' need dem. Pepper. Gentlemen, our little entertainment is now about to begin. Professor Wormwood will give an exhibition of his clever animals. [As each is called upon to do some little
[Mike puts the animals through a number of tricks. Dutch [to the boys]. Abplaud! Abplaud! Bub [puzzled]. What? Dutch [clapping hands]. Abplaud! Dey mus' have abplowse! [While the animals are performing, the Dutch [sotto voce, but decidedly]. Vot you t'ink you do—hein? Farmer. You gi'me those children! Dutch. You vaits. You don' gotta take 'em yet. Farmer. They're mine and I've come to git 'em. Dutch. You is deir vater, hein? All right; you vaits. Shoost sit down und look at der show. [Shoves him down forcibly on a convenient box or keg, then carefully stands between him and the boys. Children shout and applaud the animals. Farmer watches at intervals, and during each turn he rises as if to protest, and is emphatically set down by Dutch. His resistance is more and more feeble each time, and his interest in the performers visibly increases, until at the end he actually stands looking open-mouthed over Dutch's shoulder, even betrayed into applause. When he catches himself clapping, however, he stops short and clasps his hands behind his back. Professor Wormwood finally bows himself off.] Peter. I have the honor to announce Signor Frencelli and Signor Cocodilla in their great act. [Clowns come forward and bow, do juggling Sonny. Oh, Bub, I think our dad would like this, don't you? Bub. I reckon he would, if he'd just ever come and see it. [Clowns bow themselves off. Peter. Gentlemen, the famous Mr. Barlow will now entertain you. [Minstrel tells a darkey story. Bub. Don't you wish he'd come and live at the farm, Sonny? Sonny. Yes, I do. S'pose he would? [Minstrel bows and sits down. All applaud. Peter. Now, Gentlemen, one of the Marco Brothers will show his marvelous strength and agility. [Limber Jack turns flip-flaps, etc. Presently Harry. Yer honors, I 'eartily regret that I cannot this morning give a h'exhibition of my famous bareback riding h'exploits, h'owing to the fact of our 'orses being h'otherwise h'occupied—— [confidentially] a-h'eating their h'oats, ye know. But, h'anyway, I can make the h'attempt to show you 'ow it is done, with a h'imaginary 'orse. 'Ere, Mr. h'O'Brien, will you kindly h'assist me? [Barney brings a chair without a back, and Bub [applauding wildly]. Why, I could almost see the horse! [Harry retires to back of stage, and makes Peter. Gentlemen, having shown you his prowess as a bareback rider, Signor Marco will now be introduced to you in a new light. Our traveling arrangements being somewhat—ahem!—circumscribed, we have never been able to carry any of the fair sex with us upon our tours. Believe me, Gentlemen, such is the surpassing genius of Signor Marco that we have never felt the need of ladies, as I am sure you will agree. [Harry now comes forward with mincing steps and a coy smile.] Gentlemen, allow me to present to you the celebrated artist, the far-famed and charming Mademoiselle Zarah! [The troupe all bow with great enthusiasm to the transformed Harry, who courtesies and smiles with all professional airs and graces. The music strikes up, and Zarah dances. When the dance is ended, Zarah bows Peter. Mademoiselle Zarah, assisted by the whole troupe, will now favor us with a song. [Popular song, adapted to the occasion by the Sonny. I'd like to go to a circus every day. Bub. Don't I wish I could! Well, it's a fine Christmas present, anyway. Peter. Did you like it? Bub and Sonny. Oh, did we! Bub. It was just right! Peter. Can you think of anything that would be an improvement—for a Christmas celebration, you know? Bub [embarrassed]. Well, Mr. Pepper—you see—we've always heard the other children telling about Christmas—and Christmas Trees—and we did wish we could see one. This is next best, you know—but we did wish we could see a tree. Pepper [nods to clowns]. Well,—I'm not Herman—nor yet old Santa Claus, but I guess I can do this trick. [Waves his whip, and the two clowns suddenly throw back the canvas (back Center) and disclose a small tree, lighted and raised high, framed by the sides of the tent.] Bub [claps his hands]. Oh, is that what a Christmas Tree looks like! Sonny. Oh, Bub, let's go and see it. [They slip Dutch [catching his arm]. No, sir,—you vaits shtill longer a leetle bit! Sonny. Oh, Bub, look at all the pretty shiny things. Bub. And candy, Sonny, and toys, and the star on top! [The men fairly swell with pride.] Barney. Sure it's the best I iver did see, for a small one. Jerry. Makes me feel like a kid myself—we always had 'em every year. Mike. It joost warms the very cockles of me heart. Harry. I'd 'ave you look at their faces—they're 'appy, all right. It 'as the circus beat h'all 'ollow for them. Jack. Between the two, they'll not forget this Christmas! Ben [leaning over the children]. Look at all dem C'ris'mas gif's, honey! Dey's every las' one fer you. Bub [disappointed]. Not anything for anybody else? Sonny. Not nothing for Ben? I likes Ben! Bub. And Dutch, and everybody? [The men are confused at this turn of affairs.] Only for us? Why, we thought Christmas trees were for everybody. And they've all been so good to us! Peter [throwing himself into the breach]. No, that's a big mistake, boys! There is something on that tree for them—something that says every man in this here show gets a whole week's wages for a Christmas present, and then he can get what he wants most! [A moment's silence, then there is a great Dutch [to Farmer]. Vot I tells you? No maitter how shtrict you goes for to be [slowly, and with emphasis], you cain't kills Christmas! Yust look at der liddle tree! Laist night ve all vas reddy to cut somebody's t'roat, und dis mornin'—Bresto! Shangch!—ve're de pest frien's efer. It's der Kinder, und der Tree, und Christmas! I tells you, der ain'd noddings like Christmas der whole vorld rount! [The Farmer, who has been unbending gradually, CHRISTMAS SONG | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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