*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 68417 ***

  TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE


  Text in italics is shown in _underscores_.

  Text in Small Caps was converted to ALL CAPS.

  Punctuation and text was retained as in the original except for
  a change on page 17, “and exit upstairs” to “and exits upstairs”.




  The Lighting of the
  Christmas Tree

  In the Vassar Series of Plays
  Edited by Gertrude Buck


  Adapted by Josephine L. Palmer and Annie L.
  Thorp, by permission of Messrs. Doubleday,
  Page & Co., from “The Christmas Guest,” by
  Selma Lagerlof.

  Samuel French: Publisher

  28-30 West Thirty-eighth St. : New York

  LONDON

  Samuel French, Ltd.

  26 SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND




  COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY JOSEPHINE L. PALMER AND
  ANNIE L. THORP

  COPYRIGHT, 1921, BY SAMUEL FRENCH

  _All Rights Reserved_

“THE LIGHTING OF THE CHRISTMAS TREE” is fully protected by copyright,
and all rights are reserved.

Permission to act, to read publicly, or to make any use of this play
must be obtained from Samuel French, 28-30 West 38th Street, New York
City.

It may be presented by amateurs upon payment of a royalty of five
dollars for each performance, payable to Samuel French one week before
the date when the play is given.

Professional rates quoted on application.

Whenever this play is produced the following notice must appear on all
programs, printing and advertising for the play: Produced by special
arrangement with Samuel French of New York.




THE VASSAR SERIES OF PLAYS


Every play in this series has been written by a member of the
Play-Writing Class at Vassar College. But each play as printed is the
product of a group-activity. Not merely an individual seated at a desk,
but a community working together in a theater, is responsible for it in
its final form.

Some of these plays have been “tried out” by the Vassar Dramatic
Workshop and some by the Community Theatre of Poughkeepsie, New
York. By the coöperative efforts of all who were associated in these
enterprises--actors, committee workers and financial supporters--these
plays have been given a sympathetic and intelligent production before
audiences also intelligent and sympathetic, whose reaction has afforded
the writers much valuable criticism. In the preliminary readings
and rehearsals, also, occasional weak points which had escaped the
ordeal of class criticism came to light and were strengthened by the
author’s revision. In fact, the plays as they appear in this series
are literally a collaboration of the writers with innumerable friendly
critics in the play-writing class, the cast and the audience. And it
would be ungracious to put the fruits of this collaboration at the
service of the public without grateful acknowledgment to all those who
have in any way helped to establish and carry on the Vassar Dramatic
Workshop or the Community Theatre of Poughkeepsie.

In recent years there has been an increasing demand for well-written,
dramatically effective one-act plays, suitable for production by
semi-professional companies or by amateur organizations of serious
purpose and some degree of training. To aid in supplying this demand
is the purpose of the Vassar Series of Plays. Other plays written by
members of the Play-Writing Class at Vassar College may be secured in
typewritten form by application to The Workshop Bureau of Plays, Vassar
College.

All the plays in this series are protected by copyright. A royalty of
five dollars for each production must be paid to Samuel French, 28-30
West 38th Street, New York City, at least one week before the date of
the performance.




LIGHTING OF THE CHRISTMAS TREE

PRODUCING THE PLAY


The beautiful Swedish national costumes should be used for this play.
Any good reference book on the costumes of various nations and many
books about travel in Sweden will furnish illustrations that may be
copied, varying the colors when necessary to produce a harmonious
relation with one another. Since this is a modern play, only the
servants, who are, of course, peasants, would be likely to wear these
costumes on ordinary occasions, but members of the upper classes
sometimes assume them for the festivities of the Christmas season. We
may, therefore, take advantage of this possibility, to increase the
picturesqueness of our play by using the colorful Swedish dress for all
the characters.

A real Swedish interior, carefully reproduced from trustworthy
illustrations, would also be effective. Not all the furniture found
in any illustration should, of course, be used for the stage setting.
A few pieces only should be chosen, with a view to composing without
unnecessary “clutter” into a beautiful and characteristically Swedish
whole.

The lines of this play are exceptionally simple in their phrasing and
yet so full of meaning that no word or syllable should be lost by the
audience. An intelligent, sympathetic rendering of each speech is
especially important, but clear-cut enunciation and a beautiful quality
of voice are also very desirable, particularly for Olga, Liljekrona and
the two children.

Olga is obviously the very heart of this play. She makes a
charming picture with the little boys over the Christmas tree, the
candle-lighting in the windows, and the story of the Christ-Child’s
wanderings. Her tender love for her home and her instinctive fear of
any influence which may tend to lower its ideals or to draw Liljekrona
away from it, must be so clearly brought out in the acting (as it is
in the lines) that the audience will understand and even partially
sympathize with her anxiety to be rid of the drunken vagrant, Ruster.

This anxiety is sharpened by the approach of the Christmas season,
which she feels should be celebrated as a beautiful home festival,
just by themselves. But even as Olga carries her point and Ruster is
about to leave the house, she is assailed by remorse for the selfish
impulse to protect her home at the unfortunate old man’s expense. This
should be clearly indicated in the tone and manner with which she asks
Liljekrona to give Ruster something extra for Christmas and to lend him
his fur coat.

The departure of Ruster ends the first stage of the play’s action,
in which Olga has attempted to secure happiness for herself and her
household by the refusal of her hospitality to some one in sore need
of it. Ruster had seemed to her a discordant element when present, but
his absence seems to bring ten-fold more unhappiness. All the Christmas
preparations go wrong. Sigurd’s cookie-dough figure of the Christ-Child
“doesn’t look like anything,” the E string of Liljekrona’s fiddle has
snapped and he has no new one, Torstein has gone to drive Ruster and
they cannot dance without him, the sheaves for the sparrows have been
forgotten, and finally Liljekrona withdraws to his own room to play the
stormy music which Olga understands as a portent of his return to the
old life of wandering.

In this section of the play, Liljekrona controls the action and should
dominate the scene. Olga attempts, in vain, to infuse joy into the
Christmas observances. Liljekrona’s bitterly self-reproachful speech
about the lonely and the hungry people,--“When they pass so close
as to touch our sleeve,--we do not see them, we do not stop them,
but let them plod their path alone,”--shows that he will no longer
deceive himself as to the heartlessness of their own action. And when
he says--“Your candles are too late. The door is closed. The voice is
gone,”--Olga sees that on the eve of Christmas and in the name of its
fitting observance, she has betrayed its very spirit of hospitality and
kindness.

The sound of the music from Liljekrona’s room, full of the old, wild
passion for the open road, brings to Olga realization of the price
she must pay for this mistake, “if God does not work a miracle in the
night.” Her intense suffering at this point marks the crucial moment
in the play and must be conveyed by action and facial expression as
well as by a poignant rendering of the lines. The moment must be
held perceptibly, after she sinks into her chair, until the sound of
sleighbells, at first far off and gradually approaching, breaks the
spell.

The bells usher in the third stage of the action, which is markedly
different in feeling-tone from the other two. Instead of the fear and
the cloaked unkindness of the first scene and the growing self-reproach
of the second, we have the exaltation of complete surrender to generous
impulse. Olga’s joy in the “miracle” which she so little deserved or
expected must shine from her face and from every word and action, as
soon as she realizes that Ruster has indeed returned and she has a
chance to repair the wrong she has done. Her inspiration to ask Ruster
to look after the children while she is out of the room should be so
acted as to show that there is something behind her simple request.
She will prove her gratitude for this chance to atone, by trusting her
dearest treasures to the man she had feared to have remain in the house
with them.

The scene of the children with Ruster gives the actor an opportunity
to show the battered, dissipated old man, afraid of the innocent
eyes of the children, but gradually put at his ease by their
complete unconsciousness and their real interest in the one thing he
knows,--flute-playing. Ruster’s complete collapse when the children’s
absorption in reading allows him to realize his own desolate situation,
and Olga’s offer to make him their tutor, need only be played with
entire simplicity and sincerity by both actors, to bring tears to the
eyes of many people in the audience.

Olga’s explanation to Liljekrona of her plans for Ruster and why she
is taking this great risk, bring her once more into a position of
leadership. This is emphasized by the action, as first Liljekrona, then
the children and finally Ruster, kiss Olga’s hand, while her curtain
speech to Ruster gives the needed touch of humility and graciousness to
her exaltation.

The curtain should be raised quickly after it has been lowered, so as
to make the tableau of the lighting of the tree seem, as it is, an
essential part of the play.

                                                   GERTRUDE BUCK.




CHARACTERS


  LITTLE RUSTER: a flute-player.
  LILJEKRONA: a violinist, host of Lofdala.
  OLGA: his wife.
  OSWALD   }
  SIGURD   } his little sons.
  HALLA: the cook.
  TORSTEIN: the man-servant.

First produced by the Vassar Dramatic Workshop, December 16, 1916.




THE LIGHTING OF THE CHRISTMAS TREE


  SCENE: _The living-room of_ LOFDALA, _a Swedish manor house. It
  is the afternoon before Christmas and the room has an atmosphere
  of comfort and warmth; outside it is snowing. To the left is a
  large Swedish fireplace, with its hanging black chimney-hood,
  crane and shining kettles. A high wooden bench, a table and
  armchair are drawn close to the fire. A heavy, iron-hinged door
  opens outdoors at the center back. On either side are windows. At
  the left a door leads into the kitchen, and at the right a flight
  of stairs leads to the bedrooms. By the stairs stands a Christmas
  tree as yet unlighted. There is a music cabinet against the back
  wall, left; and an oblong table at the right; a carved wooden
  chest stands beside the fireplace._

  TIME: _about 1890_.

  OLGA _is discovered arranging candles on the tree. She
  is slender and moderately tall, with large eyes and rich dark
  hair braided about her head. She wears Swedish holiday dress._

  (_Enter_ OSWALD _and_ SIGURD, _running downstairs with their
  hands full of cotton. They are six and four years old_, OSWALD
  _being a little the taller. They are bright-faced, tow-headed
  little boys, and are dressed in their embroidered holiday
  suits._ OSWALD _stops halfway down, and leaning over the
  banisters drops bits of cotton on the tree_.)

OSWALD. See, Mother, it’s snowing.

SIGURD. Look, Mother--it’s snowing. (_Turns at the foot of the stairs
and runs back to_ OSWALD.)

OSWALD. Don’t make such big flakes, Sigurd.

SIGURD. But I’m making it snow hard.

OSWALD. Oh, look, that fell on a candle.

OLGA. We need some more snow over here. Come down and make it snow on
these branches.

OSWALD. But, Mother, we need some most on this side--like this.

SIGURD. Where is Father?

OLGA. He has gone out with Torstein in the sledge to gather green
boughs to make the house look like Christmas.

SIGURD. It’ll soon be Christmas, Mother. When can we light the candles?

OLGA. When Father comes home. Have we used up all the snow, Oswald?

OSWALD. Yes, I will get some more. (_Starts upstairs._) Oh! (_Draws
back as he discovers_ RUSTER, _who has just entered and is standing on
the landing. He is unkempt and his shabby, black coat is buttoned up
to his chin. His eyes are small and blurred and his dark hair stands
out like a cloud about his head. But he is not wholly unattractive. His
features are well-formed and his black mustache is twirled at a proud
angle. He carries his music pen and manuscript. His voice is cracked
and harsh._)

OLGA. (_Looking up_) Why, Ruster!

RUSTER. (_Shivering_) I thought you might be having punch. My bones
are frozen working up in that cold room. It would take a taste of
hell-fire to warm me up. (_Drinking from his flask._)

OLGA. (_Turning toward the boys--raising her hand as if to silence_
RUSTER) The punch has not been made yet, Ruster. Children, have you
forgotten your Christmas cookies? Halla will help you make them if you
run out to her.

OSWALD. Oh, I know what I want to make.

SIGURD. What, Oswald?--What?

OSWALD. I want a raisin in mine. (_Pushing open the door._) Can I,
Halla?

  (_Exeunt to kitchen._ OLGA _crosses to_ RUSTER.)

OLGA. If you are cold, Ruster, why not stay here by the fire and copy
your music? Is there much more to do?

RUSTER. (_Seating himself and arranging pages_) Liljekrona says there
is no hurry. When will he be home?

OLGA. As soon as he has filled the sledge with boughs, for he knows we
need him here on Christmas Eve. (_She goes to the window. Sleighbells
are heard._) There they are, coming up the drive. We must have some
place to put the branches. (_She spreads a cloth on the floor._ RUSTER
_steals a drink from his flask. The door opens. Enter_ LILJEKRONA. _He
is a tall, finely erect man, clad in a heavy fur coat that is covered
with snow. As he takes off his cap, he discloses a mass of light hair
brushed back from an unusually high forehead. His face is at once
sensitive and strong. He carries a load of boughs._) Well, what an
armful you have!

LILJEKRONA. (_Gaily_) Tell the children I have brought home the whole
forest for our Christmas.

OLGA. Put down your forest over here. Was it very cold?

LILJEKRONA. There has been a fine flurry all morning. (OLGA _helps him
off with his coat_.) But the fire feels good!

RUSTER. This is the warmest place in the house.

LILJEKRONA. How is it going? (_Looking over_ RUSTER’S _shoulder_.) You
haven’t forgotten how a page ought to look, have you, Ruster?

RUSTER. No, I can copy, but I cannot play. I have almost forgotten the
sound of my flute. Nobody wants a flute-player nowadays! They do not
care for music any more in Varmland and they do not want to learn.

LILJEKRONA. Yes, Varmland is not like Ekeby when we knew it.

RUSTER. It’s a pity we ever left there, Liljekrona! We have never had
such playing since--you with your violin and I with my flute. Old
Torwaldson waving his angry stick! By Heaven, he called the souls out
of us!

LILJEKRONA. Yes, the violins sobbing--then the horns, the winds, the
basses--each breaking over the other in thundering waves.

RUSTER. Holy Mother!--that was living!

LILJEKRONA. And from one patron off on the road to another, and along
the way, what gay evenings in the tent and at the inn when a man was
free from care!

RUSTER. How you could play then! Shall I forget that night in Olaf’s
garden? You made your fiddle sing as though your heart were in tune
with its strings. But now, Christ’s blood! you never play like that.

OLGA. He plays more beautifully now than he ever did at Ekeby.

LILJEKRONA. No, there is not so much time for practice here.

RUSTER. And the old spirit has gone out of you.

LILJEKRONA. I sometimes think so myself. It is hard to settle down
after a life of wandering. Something wild keeps crying in my soul,
bidding me be off again.

OLGA. Why is not home the place for music, Liljekrona? Surely those who
love you most care most to hear. Must you seek your inspiration from
strangers?

LILJEKRONA. No, Olga, you are more to me than a world of strangers. It
is you alone who hold me here.

RUSTER. Yes--you have a warm fire and a full cellar to keep you at
home. (LILJEKRONA _shrugs and turns away impatiently_.) But what about
the man who has not money enough to fill his flask? (_Bitterly._) My
horse, and carriole, and fur coat--they’re all gone! (_Drinks, then
laughs boisterously._) But still I have friends--lots of friends in
Varmland, and they’re always glad to see me and give me a cup of cheer!
(_He drains his flask and wipes his mustache with the back of his
hand._ LILJEKRONA _rises disgustedly and crosses the room_.)

OLGA. (_Pointedly_) Have you more copying to do still, Ruster?

RUSTER. (_Blinking at her_) The “Folksong” is almost finished. I was
thinking, Liljekrona--that when that is done, there are two others you
showed me yesterday, that would go well with this.

LILJEKRONA. It is better alone.

RUSTER. But those two shepherd songs. I took the book to my room. Wait
till I bring it down. (_He rises unsteadily. Exit._)

OLGA. (_Going to_ LILJEKRONA) Liljekrona, don’t give him more copying,
or we shall be obliged to keep him over Christmas.

LILJEKRONA. He must be somewhere.

OLGA. Our Christmas is spoiled if he stays. He is so dirty and he
drinks so. And think how bad it is for the children.

LILJEKRONA. But he is an old friend.

OLGA. Yet on Christmas Eve--we have kept thinking how happy we should
be, telling stories and dancing about the tree. And you would play
our favorite tunes. (_She looks wistfully about the partly decorated
room._) But now all the pleasure is gone if Ruster stays!

LILJEKRONA. Formerly you were glad to see him.

OLGA. Yes--we all were. But not since he has become a drunkard. And,
Liljekrona, I am afraid----

LILJEKRONA. Afraid of what, dear?

OLGA. (_Impetuously_) Let him go somewhere else for Christmas.

LILJEKRONA. How can we send him away? It would be inhospitable. Nobody
wants him any more than we do.

OLGA. But the children, Liljekrona.

  (_Enter_ RUSTER _with book_.)

RUSTER. Here it is. (_Handing book to_ LILJEKRONA.)

LILJEKRONA. Yes, I remember.

RUSTER. Shall I copy them?

LILJEKRONA. No--I can play these from the book.

RUSTER. This is a poor transcription. It should be written in D instead
of F.

LILJEKRONA. Well, I can transpose it.

RUSTER. I have not copied the words for the “Folksong.” Do you want it
done?

LILJEKRONA. No, it will do as it is.

RUSTER. Well then, it is finished. (_Half-heartedly._) I suppose I must
be going. (_Glances toward the window._)

LILJEKRONA. (_Indifferently_) You had better stay where you are over
Christmas.

RUSTER. (_Catching the note in_ LILJEKRONA’S _voice, and with
indignant pride_.) What do you mean, Liljekrona, shall I stay here
because I have nowhere else to go? Why, only think how they are
standing and waiting for me in the big ironworks in the parish of
Bro. The guest-room will be already in order and the glass of welcome
filled. I must hurry. I only do not know to whom I should go first.

LILJEKRONA. Very well, you may go if you will.

RUSTER. (_Emphatically_) Yes, I must go--at once.

  (_Enter_ TORSTEIN _with logs for the fire_.)

OLGA. If you wish, Torstein will drive you down. Are the horses still
harnessed, Torstein?

TORSTEIN. Yes, Ma’am.

OLGA. Then bring the sledge around.

RUSTER. And bring it at once. I have only to get my treasures and I am
ready. (_Picks up his music pen and exits upstairs._)

TORSTEIN. He’s not going to stay over Christmas?

OLGA. You must hurry back, Torstein. The snow is getting deep.

  (_Exit_ TORSTEIN. LILJEKRONA _looks over the music sheets on
  table, and takes money from his pocket_.)

OLGA. You will slip in something for Christmas?

LILJEKRONA. Of course.

OLGA. (_Taking down fur coat and warming it_) Will you lend him your
big coat? Torstein can bring it back. (_After a pause._) As long as he
wishes to go himself, it is as well to let him.

  (_Enter_ RUSTER _with his belongings tied up in a blue-striped
  cotton handkerchief, and his flute under his arm_.)

LILJEKRONA. (_Meeting him and giving him what he has earned_) That is
always poor payment for art, Ruster, but it may serve you, somehow.

RUSTER. (_Dazedly_) Yes.

OLGA. Will you put on this coat, Ruster? (_Helping him into coat._) You
must keep warm, and watch that your hands and face are well covered.
And tell Torstein where to take you in Bro.

RUSTER. (_Shaking himself together and going toward door_) I’ll
be there in time for a glass of punch and the Christmas tree at
Erickson’s--or Oscar’s--or----

  (LILJEKRONA _opens the door for him and he goes out slowly_.)

OLGA. (_Calling after him_) A happy Christmas to you!

LILJEKRONA. (_Faintly_) Good luck, Ruster.

RUSTER. (_Dully, from without_) Good-bye.

  (LILJEKRONA _closes the door and they look out the window until
  the sleighbells jingle off_. OLGA _turns back to the room_.)

OLGA. Now as soon as the boughs are up, we shall be ready for our
Christmas tree. Don’t you think some holly would be nice for the table,
Liljekrona? (_As_ LILJEKRONA _does not answer, she stoops and picks up
sprigs of holly from the pile of branches, then goes to the kitchen
door and calls_.) Children, what are you doing? Come and bring your
play in here. (_She arranges the holly in a brass bowl on the long
table._ LILJEKRONA _begins to put the boughs up over the door_.)

  (_Enter_ OSWALD, _carrying with great care a board with some
  dough on it, and_ SIGURD _running ahead with his fingers covered
  with dough_.)

SIGURD. (_Running to_ LILJEKRONA) Father! See my fat dough fingers.

LILJEKRONA. What are you making, Sigurd?

OSWALD. Christmas things for Halla to bake.

SIGURD. Then they will be brown and we can eat them just like the round
cookies. See, Mother.

OSWALD. Only these aren’t round cookies, Mother. (_Sits down on the
floor with the dough._)

SIGURD. No. There is a Christmas tree.

OSWALD. And I made a star.

SIGURD. And I’m going to make---- (_Runs and whispers to his mother._)

OLGA. A what, dear?

OSWALD. (_Looking up from the floor_) A little Christ-Child we’re going
to make.

SIGURD. A little bit of a baby Christ-Child.

OLGA. (_Kissing his forehead_) That will be a lovely Christmas task.

OSWALD. (_Getting up and pulling at_ LILJEKRONA, _who yields_) Look,
Father! Look at my cookie! To-night I’ll eat it for supper.

LILJEKRONA. Yes. (_Pause._) I wonder how many little boys will be
eating their Christmas cookies to-night, and how many will be without a
bite of Christmas dinner, hungry and cold.

OSWALD. Won’t they have any Christmas dinner, Father?

LILJEKRONA. Some won’t. (_He turns back and continues to put up
boughs._)

SIGURD. Why won’t those little boys have any Christmas dinner, Mother?

OLGA. Father meant, dear, that some children are too poor to buy any.

OSWALD. Where are the poor children?

OLGA. I’m afraid there are some in every village, Oswald.

SIGURD. In our valley, Mother?

OLGA. Yes, dear, I’m afraid there are.

OSWALD. Then, Mother, if Sigurd and I made some good cookies, could we
take them down to those poor children?

OLGA. If only we knew just where we could find them, Oswald. It is hard
sometimes to know where the lonely people are, and the hungry ones.

LILJEKRONA. And when they pass so close as to touch our sleeve on the
way we do not see them, we do not stop them, but let them plod their
path alone.

OLGA. (_Stung by_ LILJEKRONA’S _remark_) It is a good thought, Oswald.
Take them out to Halla now, so she can bake them before to-morrow.

SIGURD. I can’t make a Christ-Child, Mother. _(With a sob._) It doesn’t
look like _anything_.

OSWALD. (_With a laugh_) It looks like a star.

OLGA. (_Rising_) Let me see, dear. I think Mother would know what that
was. Take it to Halla and she will bake it. Then wash those sticky
hands. It is time to light the tree. (_Exeunt_ OSWALD _and_ SIGURD.
_Takes violin from the cabinet and gives it to_ LILJEKRONA.) You will
play for us to dance?--one of the old polkas, Liljekrona.

LILJEKRONA. (_Pettishly_) My E string has snapped.

OLGA. Well, put on a new one. Quick, before the children come back.

  (LILJEKRONA _goes slowly upstairs with his violin_. OLGA _pulls
  out the tree from the corner and starts to light the candles with
  a taper. Enter_ HALLA _with a punch bowl and the glasses, which
  she places on the long table_. OSWALD _and_ SIGURD _follow, each
  carrying a plate of cakes_.)

OSWALD. Mother! Are you lighting the tree instead of Father?

OLGA. Yes. Do you want to help?

OSWALD. Oh, yes.

SIGURD. And I want to, too.

OLGA. You shall, dear. But first put the cakes on the table. (OSWALD
_and_ SIGURD _deposit their cakes and run to the tree_. OLGA _gives her
taper to_ SIGURD.) Here, Sigurd, first the low ones--there. (_Lighting
another taper._) Now, Oswald. Can you do it, dear?

OSWALD. You light those, Mother. (_Pointing to higher ones._)

OLGA. There.

SIGURD. The top one of all isn’t lit, Mother.

OLGA. No, Father is the only one who can reach that. We’ll have to
leave it. Come, Halla.

  (_Enter_ LILJEKRONA _by the stairs without his violin_.)

OLGA. We’re all ready for a polka.

LILJEKRONA. I have no new string for my fiddle.

OLGA. But you _can_ play on three strings.

LILJEKRONA. I can remember no polkas.

OLGA. (_Approaching him persuasively_) Why, Liljekrona, can’t you play
anything? Sha’n’t we be able to dance at all?

LILJEKRONA. Torstein is not back yet. He is the best dancer of all.
Perhaps it was hard to find the house. (_Goes to the window._)

OLGA. Well then, we’ll wait our dancing for Torstein, and have our
punch and cakes while they are hot.

LILJEKRONA. The sparrows are twittering about the window sill most
miserably. Where is the pole with the sheaves for them?

OLGA. I did not think of it till now. Did you remember, Halla?

HALLA. No, I didn’t. Poor little things!

LILJEKRONA. How is it that you forgot on this day, of all days? Do old
customs mean nothing to you? Or is it the heartlessness of those who
shut their eyes to the meaning of old beliefs? At Ekeby no one ever
forgot!

OLGA. (_Disturbed_) No, my dear, we are not heartless. The sheaves
shall be put out as soon as Torstein returns. Come, shall we have our
punch and cakes? Children, are you hungry?

OSWALD. I am.

SIGURD. I want a cookie from my plate.

LILJEKRONA. And there are no candles in the windows. Nothing is done as
it used to be. (_He seats himself on the wooden bench._)

OLGA. Oh, why--why, I had intended to light the candles. (_Goes to
mantel._) Come, children, before you have your cookies will you help
Mother? (_She takes from the shelf above the fireplace two wooden
frames, in each of which is set a row of candles. She lights them and
gives one to each of the boys._) Careful. Put them on the windowsills.

OSWALD. I want mine in this window. You put yours over there, Sigurd.

OLGA. Halla, take the punch to the table by the fire. (OLGA _seats
herself near_ LILJEKRONA.) Come, children. (OSWALD _and_ SIGURD _come
to her side_.) Sigurd, do you know why we put candles in the windows on
Christmas Eve?

OSWALD. So that people can see where we live!

OLGA. Yes--dear; and there is a story that the little Christ-Child goes
about on Christmas Eve looking for a welcome. (_She pours some punch
for_ LILJEKRONA, _who is looking intently at her_.)

SIGURD. And if he sees our lights, Mother, will he come to our house?

OLGA. Yes, dear, and when you hear him say: “Behold I stand at the
door and knock----” (_She passes glass of punch to_ LILJEKRONA.)

LILJEKRONA. (_Ignoring it, and meeting her glance with a steady gaze_)
“And if any man hear my voice and will open the door, I will come in
and sup with him, and he with me.” Your candles are too late. The door
is closed. The voice is gone. (_Rises and exits slowly to his room._)

OSWALD. (_After a pause_) Why did Father go away, Mother?

HALLA. Is it anything the matter with the punch, Ma’am?

OLGA. (_Hesitating_) No, Halla, it’s not the punch--I think he’s
not--very happy----

SIGURD. Won’t he come back, Mother? Who will tell us stories?

  (_Wild music is heard from_ LILJEKRONA’S _room. It rises and
  falls in passionate rushes and casts a spell over those who
  listen_.)

OLGA. (_Rising suddenly at the sound_) He is playing. Why--he has not
played like that since he came home. It is his great heart full of
revolt from all that is small about us. “You thought to bind me,” he is
saying, “you thought to make me as small-minded as yourselves.” Oh, I
was wrong! I thought to shut out unhappiness, but with it I have shut
out love. To-morrow he will be gone, if God does not work a miracle
in the night. (_She sinks into her chair and covers her face with her
hands. The boys sit quite still and look with awe at their mother._
HALLA _wrings her hands in a half-understanding and miserable way_.)

  (_Sleighbells are heard._ HALLA _goes to the window_.)

HALLA. It must be Torstein come back again at last. No, there are two
of them. And yet that’s Torstein. He’s getting out. He’s helping the
other. (_In a tone of horror._) Why, it must be Ruster with him!

OLGA. (_Until now heedless, looking and drying her eyes_) _Ruster_, did
you say, Halla? Has Ruster come back again? (_She approaches the window
and looks out._) Surely it is he! (_She opens the door. The two men
enter. They are covered with snow._ TORSTEIN _is blue with the cold,
and_ RUSTER _seems half-frozen. His mustache hangs down over his mouth.
He leans on_ TORSTEIN. _The children jump up from the floor._) Ruster,
you are welcome back to Lofdala. (_She loosens his coat and leads him,
with_ TORSTEIN’S _help, to the fire_. HALLA _draws up the armchair into
which_ RUSTER _sinks weakly. The children watch._)

TORSTEIN. (_Apologetically_) I had to bring him back, Ma’am. At every
house they were either going away over Christmas, or were crowded with
company. They didn’t even ask him to get out of the sledge. And the
snow was so thick I thought we’d both be frozen.

OLGA. You did well to bring him, Torstein. (_She rubs_ RUSTER’S _hands
to give them life_. TORSTEIN _stands by the fire_.) Halla, is the punch
still hot?

HALLA. Yes, Ma’am.

OLGA. Then pour out a glass. It will warm him.

  (HALLA _pours out two glasses. One she gives to_ TORSTEIN, _the
  other_ OLGA _holds to_ RUSTER’S _lips_.)

TORSTEIN. (_Smacking his lips_) Um! That puts life into you! (_Sets
down his glass._) Well, I must drive the horses around, or they’ll be
drifted in.

  (_Exit by front door._ OSWALD _and_ SIGURD _watch from the
  window_.)

RUSTER. (_Gaining consciousness and looking about with a sad, puzzled
expression_) How did I come here again? It is strange, all strange to
be in Liljekrona’s house--I thought---- (_Abruptly._) Why are you so
kind to me? I am only an old broken-down instrument....

OLGA. We are glad to see you, Ruster! And I want you to think--you have
never been away. Let me have your wet coat. (_Helps him out of it._)
Halla will dry it in the kitchen.

  (_Exit_ HALLA _with coat_.)

OLGA. (_Refilling his glass and putting it on the table by him_) Are
you warmer now?

RUSTER. Yes--quite warm, thank you.

OSWALD. (_Offering the cookie he has been holding_) Here’s a cookie.
(SIGURD, _who is about to eat the last fragment of his, stops and holds
it out to_ RUSTER.)

RUSTER. (_Starting up suddenly_) I can’t stay here! I am of no
use--here--or anywhere!

OLGA. (_Putting a hand on his arm_) You are mistaken, Ruster. You may
help, if you will. I must attend to setting the table for dinner and
the children will be quite forsaken. Will you look after them a little?

RUSTER. (_Rising, alarmed_) I can’t do that!--Why, I--they----

  (_Exit_ OLGA, _resolutely_. RUSTER _looks after her, then turns,
  and seeing his glass of punch on the table, starts to pick it up.
  He encounters the steady gaze of the children, restrains himself
  and fumbles in his pocket. He draws out his flute and blows a
  note on it. The boys come closer._)

OSWALD. How do you do that? (RUSTER _does not answer, but blows again_.)

SIGURD. Why do you lift your fingers?

RUSTER. To make the notes.

SIGURD. Let me try! (RUSTER _places his little fingers over two of the
stops_. SIGURD _blows, but no sound comes_. OSWALD _laughs_.)

OSWALD. Let _me_ try! (RUSTER _shows him also--but still no tone_.) How
do you do it? (_He tries again._)

RUSTER. I blow in here. (_Showing them._) And I keep the holes covered
with my fingers. When I want to make a note, I lift up a finger, like
this. (_He blows._)

SIGURD. Blow another.

RUSTER. (_Blows another. Then both over again_) This is A and this is B.

OSWALD. A and B. You can’t play _them_. They’re letters.

RUSTER. Yes, and in music they are the names of the notes. (_Takes out
a score and with a crayon makes a few notes._) This is the way they
look.

SIGURD. Let me see.

OSWALD. No! That’s not right! That’s not what’s in our storybook!
See--I’ll show you. (_He runs to music cabinet, and from lower cupboard
pulls out a battered cloth book._)

RUSTER. (_To_ SIGURD) Can this boy spell his name?

SIGURD. Yes--S I G U R D!

OSWALD. See--look at _our_ book. There isn’t any A and B like that!
That is A and that is B. (_Pointing._)

RUSTER. Can you read that?

OSWALD. Yes, I can read it.

  (_Enter_ OLGA _with tablecloth, glasses and silver. She smiles at
  the group and quietly begins to arrange the table._)

OSWALD. (_Reading_) “Far away, in the deep forest there once grew----”

BOTH CHILDREN. “A pretty Fir-_Tree_. The sun shone full upon _him_, the
breeze played freely around _him_, and in the n--n----” (_Looking up
questioningly at_ RUSTER.)

RUSTER. “Neigh-bor-hood.”

OSWALD. “Neighborhood grew many Fir-Trees.”

BOTH CHILDREN. “Some older, some younger.”

OSWALD. (_Turning from the book_) Look--I’ll draw you a fir-tree. (_He
draws on_ RUSTER’S _music score--spreading it on the floor_.)

SIGURD. (_Slowly_) “But the little Fir-Tree was not happy; he was
always long--longing to be tall; he th--th----”

  (RUSTER, _who during the last part of the reading has been paying
  no attention, suddenly covers his face with his hands. His
  shoulders shake a little._ SIGURD _looks up frightened_. OLGA
  _crosses quickly to him_.)

OLGA. (_Gently_) Ruster--Ruster! Don’t feel badly!

RUSTER. (_Sobbing softly_) Yes--I am of no use any more.

OLGA. (_Sympathetically_) I know--I know. You cannot make a living by
your music and you are destroying yourself with brandy. You have been
turned away from every door where you have knocked. But, Ruster----

RUSTER. Yes, I am worn out. I ought to be thrown away! Nobody needs me.

OLGA. But don’t you see that to be with the children, as to-night,
would be something for you? If you would teach children you would be
welcomed everywhere. Look at them, Ruster! (_She places the boys in
front of him._) Look at them!

RUSTER. (_Blinking_) I dare not!

OLGA. (_Laughing joyously_) Then you must accustom yourself to them,
Ruster! Perhaps you could help them with their reading. They need a
schoolmaster! (_Turning to children triumphantly._) How would you like
that, children?

  (_Enter_ LILJEKRONA, _violin under his arm_. RUSTER _remains
  motionless by the fireplace with bowed head_.)

LILJEKRONA. Why are you laughing, Olga, what is it?

OLGA. Nothing--but that Ruster has come again!

LILJEKRONA. (_Perplexed_) Ruster here again?

OLGA. (_Beaming_) Yes, and he is going to stay with us to teach our
little boys.

LILJEKRONA. Ruster! (_With amazement_) You have asked him to teach----?

OLGA. Yes, Oswald and Sigurd. He has been helping them this afternoon.

LILJEKRONA. But--has he promised to give up----?

OLGA. He has promised nothing. But there is much about which he must be
careful when he has to look little children in the eyes every day.

LILJEKRONA. You’re sure he can do it?

OLGA. (_Not heeding_) If it had not been Christmas, perhaps I should
not have ventured; but if our Lord dared to place His own son among us
sinners, surely we can dare to let our children try to save a human
soul.

  (LILJEKRONA’S _face twitches and twists. He gently kisses his
  wife’s hand as if asking forgiveness._)

LILJEKRONA. The children must come and kiss their Mother’s hand! (_They
do so, though not just knowing why._)

OLGA. (_Going to_ RUSTER _and holding out her hand_) Ruster, it is you
who have made our Christmas happy. (_He kisses her hand._)


  CURTAIN

  (_The lifted curtain reveals the whole family gathered about the
  tree_, HALLA, TORSTEIN _and all, while_ LILJEKRONA _lights the
  topmost candle_.)

*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 68417 ***