(Curtain rises. Aunt Susan seated near table with knitting in hand.)

Aunt Susan (laying down knitting).—Dear, dear, it’s snowing still. This will certainly be a white Christmas. (Resumes work.) I must hurry and finish this sock for Abner. He’s been such a faithful hired boy, and I don’t know of a thing that would please him better for Christmas than a pair of nice red socks. (Holds them up to view.) (Knits a few moments.) They’re finished now, and I know he’ll be plumb tickled. He did say somethin’ about a baseball an’ bat, but these here socks are better. I must wrap them up in paper. Where’s that piece the meat came in? (Rises and searches, at last finding it.) I don’t believe in this new-fangled nonsense about red ribbon and holly tags for wrapping presents. (Wraps socks in meat paper.)

(Enter Abner, whistling, sets down lantern, takes off boots and puts on bright colored carpet slippers. Goes to mirror and combs hair.)

Abner.—The chores are all done now, thank goodness. Where’s that book I wuz readin’, “Wyoming Will, the Hero of Gold Gulch?” (Searches on table and finds it. Sits down to read.)

Susan.—Did you shut the henhouse door and lock the stable?

Abner.—Yes, ma’am. I got up at three o’clock this morning, an’ I swept the barn an’ fed the horses an’ cows an’ pigs an’ chickens, an’ did the milkin’, an’ shoveled paths, an’ split kindlin’ an sawed wood, an’ cleaned the harness, an’ got the mail, an’ shoveled some more, an’ mended the sleigh, an’ did the evening chores, an’ now it’s nine an’ I’m through. (Sighs.) Nothin’ to do till to-morrow. Ain’t I the lucky guy?

Susan.—Yes, Abner, you are a right lucky boy to be hired man here I can tell you, an’ I hope you won’t be foolish an’ run away to the city. You may be plumb thankful you have to work. Do you know who finds mischief for idle hands?

Abner (promptly).—Yes, ma’am, you do. I know what I’d do if I had a lot of money, though.

Susan.—What would you do?

Abner.—I’d go to a high-class hotel an’ hire a number-one room, an’ leave orders to be called at three.

Susan.—That’s a crazy notion.

Abner.—Then, when they knocked on my door, I’d say, Nix, I don’t have to get up.

Susan.—Hark! I hear someone at the gate. I hope it ain’t a tramp. I ain’t got no time for those fellers that don’t want to work between meals. Cut out the meals, I say, if that’s the case.

Abner.—You’ve got as much sympathy for them as you have for me. The only place I find sympathy is in the dictionary.

Susan.—Don’t stop to talk, Abner, but open the door.

(Abner reluctantly lays down his book and rises.)

Abner.—Got to tend door, too. Next thing I’ll have to wear a frilly apron and a dinky little cap. Miss Susan is sure the President of the Society for the Prevention of Leisure.

Voice.—Anybody home?

Abner.—Nobody but the lamp and that’s going out.

(Opens door and enter storm-bound party.)

Abner.—Well, I swan! Are you sure you’re all here and ain’t left anybody setting down in the snow? (A thought strikes him.) If this is a surprise for Miss Susan, you’re a week too late for her seventy-eighth birthday was last Wednesday.

Susan.—Abner! Aren’t you ashamed of yourself! Seventy-eighth birthday!

Edith.—We really must apologize for coming in this—er—this—what IS the word I want?

Tom.—Nervy.

Edith.—No, indeed. I mean unceremonious. That’s it. This unceremonious fashion. We are passengers on the Limited, and it is stalled in the snow half a mile below here.

Tom.—We’ve been late the last six hours, for the train before was behind, and we were behind before besides.

Edith.—We hated to spend Christmas eve in a snow bank, half frozen, and the conductor said it would be at least two hours before the plows could reach us.

Tom.—So, when we saw the lights of your farm-house, we invited ourselves, and we hope you will accept the invitation.

Susan.—Well, this is a surprise party, an’ I am plumb pleased to see you folks, for I wuz lonesome here by myself. I wouldn’t want nobody a-celebratin’ Christmas eve in a snow bank. I thought I heard that train a-whistlin’ there awhile ago, an’ yet I didn’t hear it go past; they’re company for me, them trains, though I fought considerable agin the track crossing my land. Their fust plan was to have the tracks run right through my barn, and I set my foot on that. No, sir, says I. I ain’t goin’ to get up all hours of the night at my age, to open the barn doors to let them trains through, an’ shut ’em after they pass. I guess that made them railroad men change their plans. Abner, take the folks’ coats an’ hats. Sit down all of you an’ get thawed out.

Miss Prudence.—Be careful of that hat, young man. I’ve worn it six years. (Removes hat and hands it to him.)

Edith.—Why, I get a new one every season. Last Easter I had such a pretty one, all trimmed with pansies, and the milliner sent it home in a paper bag. Uncle Reuben opened the door and took it in, for I had gone to bed. He thought it was flowers, so he put it to soak in the dishpan all night, and you should have seen it in the morning.

(Abner lays down pile of wraps and proceeds to try on Tom’s hat and overcoat. “Business” of examining wraps, trying on hats, while whistling—

or something monotonous which should be introduced at every opportunity. Whistle “off the key” as much as possible. The others whisper to each other, moving quietly, to positions away from centre, to right and left.)

Abner.—Now I can get the latest city styles better than Bill Barker’s mail-order catalogue that he was reading out of last night. These clothes have sure got some class to them. If Lorena Boggs had seen me now she wouldn’t have gone to the picnic with the soap salesmen, she’d have gone with yours truly. (Puts on hat.) This is I reckon one of them there fried egg derbies that’s so nifty. Yes, sir, if I’d been togged up in these here instead of them hand-me-downs of Miss Susan’s brother’s. (Miss Susan approaches him.) I’d have gone up to Lorena, and taken off my hat like this an’ said—

Miss Susan (sharply).—Don’t be a fool!

Abner (as if surprised).—No, ma’am, I wouldn’t said that to Lorena at all!

Miss Susan (in irritation).—Haven’t you any sense?

Abner.—No, ma’am, nor dollars either, seeing as I earn ten dollars a month and there ain’t no raise of salary visible to the naked eye.

(Exit with wraps, whistling).

Miss Priscilla (advancing).—I am certainly glad to be here, for I’m always so nervous when traveling. I’m afraid of losing my ticket. That reminds me—I wonder if I have it now! (Opens valise and nervously takes out miscellaneous articles. Shakes her head. Replaces articles. Opens hand bag, and finds ticket.) Thank goodness, here it is!

Tom.—I lost my ticket once and when I told the conductor I was traveling on my face he said he always punched his fares, and guessed I wasn’t going very far.

Edith.—I get nervous, too, and when I was in England with Cousin Lydia, I had two bags and a rug, and I asked the porter if he had seen two rags and a bug.

Miss Prudence (looking about her).—How delightfully comfortable it is here, and how charming your old-fashioned furniture is. We don’t see anything like it nowadays.

Tom.—No, modern furniture is on the instalment plan; pay a dollar down and a dollar a week till death us do part.

Miss Priscilla.—If you will permit us, Miss Susan, we will continue our fancy work, for we are somewhat belated with our Christmas gifts. (Abner enters.)

Miss Susan.—No need to offer excuses, ladies, for I like to see folks busy.

Abner (with earnestness).—Yes, ma’am, you do.

Miss Prudence.—I was reading in a magazine article recently that a business man should always be well-dressed, and as my nephew has recently accepted a position with a large firm, I am making him a handsome necktie for business wear. (Displays gaudy tie to audience, and then continues knitting it.)

Miss Priscilla.—I am making a gift for my sister-in-law who is a woman of fashion, and who is fond of automobiling, so I am knitting her a tasteful scarf which I am sure will prove pleasing. (Shows gay muffler, and continues knitting it.)

Susan.—What do you folks say to having a Christmas tree?

All.—Fine!

Susan.—Well, I ain’t had a tree for years, but I think it would be nice to trim up one to celebrate.

Edith.—That will be splendid!

Susan.—Then Mr. Tom you an’ Abner go out and chop down a tree. Land sakes! Abner’s asleep an’ I never called him till quarter past three! Abner! Wake up! Take off them slippers, an’ put on your gum boots, an’ go chop down a tree!

Abner (drowsily).—I ain’t George Washington! Work again!

(Whistling, exeunt Abner and Tom.)

Susan.—Now we’ll get the decorations ready. (Takes up bowl of popcorn.) I know you young ladies will enjoy stringing these. (Bring pail of cranberries, needles and thread.)

Miss Priscilla (reluctantly).—I can hardly spare the time from my fancy work, as I know that my sister-in-law would be terribly disappointed if this scarf were not completed.

Miss Prudence.—It is really imperative that I finish this scarf for dear Reginald, so we will continue our knitting while the others make ready the decorations.

(Enter Miss Wise, Miss Markus and Rastus the porter, the latter carrying suit-cases.)

Miss Wise.—This really is an imposition, but when we saw the others crossing the fields to your delightful farm-house, we thought we would follow their example.

(Porter sets down suit-cases and extends his hand.)

Miss Wise.—Dear me, must I pay another porter?

(Miss Wise and Miss Markus give porter coins which he pockets with thanks.)

Rastus.—Dis sholy am a salubrious farm. Nice place for chickens. I wonder if dey’s all roostin’ now?

Susan (nervously).—I hope Abner locked that henhouse door!

Miss Markus.—I’m surely glad to be here, for that train was dreadfully cold.

Rastus.—Well I been habin’ trubbel too, for de genelman in de diner dis mornin’ he ordered two fried eggs,—two fried eggs he sez, one fried on one side an’ one fried on tother. I asked him again jest natchelly thinkin’ I hadn’t heard c’rect, an’ he say “Two fried eggs, one fried on one side an’ one fried on tother,” I done told de cook an’ he wuz dat mad he gwine pitch me out de winder into a snow bank? Yes, sir, an’ see de black eye he gib me! Mebbe it doan’ show but its dere all right!

Susan (cordially).—I hope you ladies will feel quite at home, and join us in our preparations for a Christmas tree.

Miss Wise.—That will be lovely. Porter, take my wraps and be careful of my Raglan coat.

Rastus.—Yessum, I’ll shore take care of dat ragbag coat.

Miss Wise.—Raglan, not ragbag!

Miss Markus.—What a relief to have finished my school work! I had a terrific headache from correcting those papers of mine. What do you think of answers like this? One of my scholars in English history said that the kings were not allowed to order taxis without the consent of Parliament.

Tom.—Well, it kept the rulers from being too extravagant.

Miss Wise.—I told one of my young hopefuls to write a sentence containing the word income and this was the sentence, “I opened the door and in come the cat.”

Miss Markus.—I asked a boy what gravitation was and he said, “Gravitation is that which if there were none we should all fly away.”

Miss Wise.—I was positively discouraged with my algebra class. One girl wrote that algebraic symbols were used when you didn’t know what you were talking about.

(Abner’s whistle is heard.)

Miss Markus.—O that whistling! Is that all he can whistle?

Susan.—Yes, and it gets on my nerves somethin’ awful sometimes.

Miss Markus.—Have you a lemon? Lemon juice is most good for everything.

(Susan procures a lemon and hands it to her as Abner and Tom enter with tree.)

Tom.—Now, ladies and gentlemen, this is some tree. I cannot tell a lie, I did it with my little hatchet.

Abner.—You mean I did it. That’s the way it always is, I do the work and some other feller gets the credit of it.

Susan.—Well, Abner, I think you had better see that the henhouse door is locked. I’d feel safer. My brother in the South heard someone in his henhouse one night, and he went out with a gun to investigate. He hollered out, “Hey, who’s there?” And the third time he spoke right up an’ said he’d shoot; then a voice came right plumb out of that henhouse an’ said, “Don’t shoot, massa, it’s only one of us chickens.”

Rastus.—Yas’m! I done heerd ’bout dat. He’s de genelman what was skeert to leave de henhouse do’ open, kase de chickens might all go home. (Rolls his eyes and laughs).

Tom (to Rastus).—Come on, Rastus, help me up with this tree, but remember this is a free-gratis job, no tips for this.

Rastus.—Why sholy, Sir, I wouldn’t want no remuneration for settin’ up a Christmas tree.

Tom.—We’ll nail it to a board. (Takes hammer and strikes his finger. Yells.)

(All speaking at once.)

Edith.—Did you hurt yourself?

Abner.—What you do it for?

Susan.—Ain’t you hurt yourself?

Rastus.—How did that—ar happen?

Tom.—I did it for fun of course. O those foolish questions! (Puts thumb in mouth. Abner begins his whistle. Miss Markus bites top off lemon and begins sucking it (or pretends to). Abner sees, and after a few efforts to whistle, gives up. Miss Markus places lemon somewhere. Abner watching slyly, and when opportunity arrives slips it in his pocket.)

Susan.—Now all get busy and trim the tree for we have plenty of popcorn and cranberries. Abner, hand me some of those nice red apples to tie on the branches.

Abner (sighing).—More work! (During the following all trim tree.)

Susan (severely).—Abner, I have always tried to inculcate in you habits of industry. Do you not remember the poem about the little busy bee?

Abner.—Well, if any one takes me for a bee they’ll get stung!

(Miss Wise and others decorate the tree with the strings of cranberries and popcorn.)

Edith.—Abner, hand me an apple, there’s a good boy, this branch just needs one.

Miss Wise.—Abner, give me a string of cranberries, a nice long one.

Abner.—My land! what a rest-cure this here farm is!

Susan.—Abner, get some string from the kitchen.

Edith.—Look out, Tom, your tipping the tree.

Rastus.—If dere’s any tippin’ roun’ here, doan’t forget de porter.

Edith.—Abner you’re real tall, hang that string of popcorn there on the top branch. (Abner gets chair.)

Susan.—Abner don’t you dare stand on that chair, you’ll break it!

Miss Wise.—Now our tree looks fine! I am proud of it!

Susan (suddenly).—Why how inhospitable I am! I’ve never offered you a thing to eat and you must be half starved!

Abner (promptly).—Yes’m, a pie and some gingerbread would sure go good!

Susan.—I didn’t mean you, Abner, I meant the company.

Edith.—I must say it sounds good to me!

Tom (enthusiastically).—Lead me to it!

Rastus (announcing).—First call for dinner in de dining car!
Second call for dinner in de dining car!
Last call for dinner in de dining car!

Susan.—Abner, you can stay and redd up the sitting room while we have supper!

(Exeunt all, while Abner pantomimes disgust, but takes the lemon from his pocket, looks at it, grins, replaces it, and, whistling, takes seat; begins to doze and nod as curtain falls.)

(Intermission.)