Ye Chistmas Revelry

Taranaki Daily News, 17 December 1926, Page 7 (Supplement)

Ye Chistmas Revelry

A Page for Children As

Loves all the stockings with his toys to fill. Goodwill: Good-bye. dear Elves. We hurry on our way. There is so ninth to do on Christinas Day. They walk .slowly out,- waving, two elves leading the way. The others wave and say “Good-bye.” Eirst Elf looks towards bed. Ann is seen moving and stirring. First Elf; Hide Elves and Fairies, for one child has ‘stirred. Stay, quietly! Watch! I’m glad our talk she’s heard. Elves run behind one screen, and fairies behind other. Audience can see them, but. children cannot. Ann rubs her eyes and sits up. Ann : Oh! Betty, wake up just a minute, do. I’ve something lovely I must tell you. Betty sits up, very sleepy. Ann: I’ve really seen the fairies and I feel That after all they are alive and real. Betty: The fairies real! I knew that I was right. Ann (regretfully): I wish I’d hung my stocking up last night. Betty: I wonder if you are too late. I’ll see If Father Christmas has been yet to me. (She gets out and feels stocking. •Joyfully): No, it’s still empty. Hurry up, Ann dear, And find your’s quickly. He must soon Ibe here. Ann hops out. Takes stocking from chair behind bed and hangs it tip at end. Betty: Now let’s go quick to sleep. I am so glad For if you’d had no presents, I’d be •sad. They settle down and go to sleep. Elf peeps and then nods. They all come out from behind screen. First Elf: lam so glad. Now let us dance ami play. Fairies—You watch for Father Christmas’ sleigh. They all .dance, either together or separately. Tinkle of bells is heard. Father Christinas comes in in sleigh (or small cart on wheels). It is drawn by two Brownies. They stop in middle of stage. He gets out. Father Christmas: Forgive me. Fairies, if I do not. stay. I’m always busv just when Christmas Day ' Is near, as well you know. (Looks in large notebook.) Now let me see, Two children (girls), living at No. 3 Heatherleigh. • Um! Yes! For Ann a have some jolly things, And Betty wants a fairy .doll, with wings. He carries bag in and puts it on floor between beds. Carefully fills stockings. Elves look on very pleased. Gomes back, gets into sleigh. Falfies have talked to two Brownies it nd given them a drink of nectar.. Now I must fly to No. 4. Then miles Across a continent. Through Sunny . Isles; All over England, India. Japan. Hot and cold countries. Quickly as I can. All cluster, round helping him in. Father Christmas: Good-ibye, dear children. Sing your Christmas song. And I shall hear it as I speed along. Sleigh goes of! with tingle of bells, which are heard very faintly when the song is finished. Fairies and Elves stand (or sit) at right angles to the audience, so seem to be singing to the two children in rhe bed. as well. SONG: (Musical grown-up can adapt some tune of nursery —a well-known one—or compose a new one.) “HANG UP YOUR STOCKING.” Many happy children in the wide, wide world, In their cosy little beds, lying softly curled. Dream of Father Christmas and the morrow’s coming joys. And the stockings by the bed, he will fill with toys. Chorus: Hang.up your stocking and don’t for- • & et ’ * ' • * Whether it’s fine or whether it’s wet. Whether the sun shines, or whether it snows. Everywhere, anywhere, Santa Claus i goes. Some less happy children have nd thought of fun and joy. Some have homes where hunger is, never see a toy. Give, of give, with open hand, never rest until There is Peace upon the earth—and to men. Goodwill, Chorus: All the little children, whether waking or a-sle.pp, In their hearts will all their lives, love of Christmas keep. Greet the happy morning, with laughter and with cheer, A merry, merry Christmas, and a bright New Year. Curtain goes slowly down as they sing last chorus. Alternative line: Where there is sunshine, or where the wind blows.

UGLY LITTLE IMPS

(Written for the News.) I read a little poem the other day entitled, “Some Ugly Little Imps,” and this is how it begins: If you don’t believe in fairies. And the elves are not your friends. And you have no faith in brownies or in gnomes; Let me give you just a glimpse Of the ugly little imps, That to-day invade so many happy homes. What think you are these ugly little imps? Well, they are not figures carved in stone. The imps the writer was thinking about are impertinence, impatience, impossible. Impertinence means unbecoming language and rude behaviour. What a lot of misery is caused by rudeness? Some folk say* it is growing. I wonder if it is? ‘When Jonathan Edwards lived his children rose when he entered the room and when they addressed him they said “sir.” I’m not sure I like that, but the Bible says, “Honour thy father and thy mother,” and I am sure politeness is better than trying to be smart. Impatience is a very ugly little imp. and so many people fail for lack of patience. History tells of men and women who did not succeed because they did not “keep on keeping on.” That was how Robert Bruce won the Crown of Scotland, and William the Silent won the freedom of Holland, and Darwin and Edison made great discoveries. Charles Dickens says: “It is dogged that does it.” This is what the poet says about the third ugly little imp—lmpossible: One little imp will sit astride A pencil or a pen, When there’s a problem hard in view, And draw his mouth way down, And whine out. with a frawn, “Impossible! Impossible” to do. We must fight that ugly imp. Do not say “I can’t,” say “I’ll try.”

There was a little boy called Nicu who wanted adventures. He was only three or four years old, and the principal thing about him was his smile. It was broad, it was contagious, and you felt that nothing could wipe it off his face. He also had a tiny button of a nose and ridiculous tight little curls all over his head. But although his face was so comic Nicu wanted to have adventures, and started off along the broad high-road all alone with his smile. The first thing which he met was a huge black buffalo with tremendous horns curved backwards. Nicu stood right in the middle of the road and smiled. His smile was quite like a halfmoon. The buffalo was so terribly taken aback by that over-large smile on the face of something so ridiculously small that he snorted with astonishment and retreated as quickly as he could. “Big things are not very dreadful.” said Nicu, and went on. His smile, went with him. The next thing Nicu met with was a formidable old mother pig with a lot of tiny pigs at her heels. So many little pigs were a worry to their mother, and she was very cross. But when she saw Nicu, she stopped with a grunt and wanted to become very rude. Nicu just stood and smiled—and so contagious was Nicu’s that old mother sow caught ,it and so did all the little piggies. They, formed- a large circle all round Nicu and smiled for all they were worth. It was so funny that Nicu began to laugh till his sides ached. This offended the. old mother sow, who moved away with dignity,, and. because the little piggies' knew that she represented their supper as well as their mother,' they all scampered after her, looking just as stupid as ever.

MY DOLLIE

WHY I LOVE IT. My dollie isn’t pretty—she didn’t come from France —she doesn’t talk, like some dolls, she doesn’t walk ’r dance. Her face is sort of homely, so are her hands ’n feet. But (maybe ’cause she b’longs to me). I think she’s awful sweet. My dollie isn’t pretty—she doesn’t wear fine clothes. Some people wouldn’t like her because her eyes ’n nose are made of wood and buttons, because she’s stuffed with rags. Because —you musn’t tell this —she’s made of flour bags. Some other little children have dollies dressed in silk. With eyes ’at shut ’n open, and faces white as milk. Their dolls are made o’ china, an’ bisque an’ sometimes wax. Their dollies may be lovely —but oh, each dollie lacks the something that may dollie has come t mean to me—a something kind and comfy that other folks can’t see. Rag dollies are the nicest to cuddle with in bed. They aren’t stiff , an’ awkward to bump against your head. They aren't hard an’ brittle —they're soft like babies are. I’d rather have my dollie than aiiy other —far. Real mothers —with real children—don’t love ’em for their looks. It’s like th’ outside covers don’t tell th’ nicest books. Real mothers love their children because there’s something there that's lots more ’portant than eyes and nose and hair. That’s why I love, my dollie —it isn’t what she seems, but what "he is ’at matters She shares with me my dreams, and goes with me to parties, and goes with me on trains, and stays by th’ fire with me when theie are rains. My dollie isn’t pretty. She's rags — head, hands ’n feet. But —well, ’cause I’m her mamma, I. thing she’s awful sweet. —Margaret E. Sangstcr.

I And Nicu went on . . . smiling. ! The next thing Nicu met was a huge, j lumpy toad; an ugly beast, but Nicu | smiled. The old. toad hated everybody, because she was slow and ugly, and because people often trod on her, as she could not get out of the way quick enough. But Nicu did not think here ugly, only very funny, and he could not help imitating her jump. The old toad .took this for a sign of admiration, and then even she could not resist Nicu’s Smile, and she hopped away into the ditch feeling that a world where there could be such a smile con’d not ; be so bad after all. ' And Nicu went on smiling. I He then met a calf with a damp, pink i-nose, a flock of very white geese, a fat j farmer who was in a hurry, and a soldier i with dusty boots, and a flower stuck behind his ear. At all these Nicu smiled, and neither man nor beast could resist Nicu’s smile.So infectious was it that everyone caught it, but, unlike illness, it was a good tiling to catch. When at last his empty little stomach j told him that it was time to go home, j it was already getting dark, and his i mother, who did not. know where he had j disappeared to, was very cross.. j “I shall, smack Jiim when he comes i back.” Ills mother had declared. ■ But there stood Nicu with the sun • setting, in a red ball behind, him and his absurd, little face just one big, disarming smile of happy content. At the sight, of his smile his mother forgot all about being angry, and just caught him up in her arms and hugged | him. i Nicu gurgled with content. ■ I “To-morrow I shall seek fresh adventures,” he vowed. “Really the world is | a nice place." . , .