Plays for Colleges and High Schools

BAKER, Hamilton Place, Boston, Mass.

Santa Claus Gets His Wish

A Christmas Play in One Act For Young Children

By BLANCHE PROCTOR FISHER Author of "Finding the Mayflowers"

BOSTON WALTER H. BAKER COMPANY 1921

Santa Claus Gets His Wish

A Play for Children

CHARACTERS

First Imp. Second Imp. Santa Claus. Sand-Man. Wish-Bone. Lollipop. Ice-Cream Cone. Little Girl.

Copyright, 1921, by Walter H. Baker Company

SUGGESTIONS FOR CHARACTERS

Imps. In red sweaters and red masks covering the head, with a little peak over each ear.

Sand-Man. In gray tunic and gray pointed cap.

Wish-Bone. Is a slender boy holding his arms close to his body and walking stiffly with legs spread far apart.

Lollipop. A very slender boy with his head wrapped loosely in red tissue-paper.

Ice-Cream Cone. A little boy encased in a cornucopia of heavy wrapping-paper with some soft white material showing at the top about his face.

[Pg 5]

Santa Claus Gets His Wish

SCENE.—The interior of Santa Claus's home on Christmas Eve. There is a door on each side of the stage, and a fireplace at the back. Santa Claus's big easy-chair is near the front of the stage at the left, and near the front at the right is a table. (As the curtain rises the two Imps are seated on the floor, each with a section of harness, the bells of which they are industriously polishing.)

First Imp. You must hurry. It's almost seven o'clock, and soon it will be time to harness the reindeer.

Second Imp. I am hurrying as fast as I can. I shall get through now before you do, and my bells will be just as bright as yours. It seems to me that the more I shine them the sweeter their tone is.

First Imp. I am polishing mine so bright that when Santa Claus drives through the sky all the people will look up and think they see stars twinkling overhead.

Second Imp. And I make my bells so bright that when they chime the children will hear them in their sleep and dream they are listening to birds singing in the springtime.

First Imp (scornfully). What nonsense! How many children to-night do you suppose are dreaming of birds and springtime?

Second Imp. Why shouldn't they?

First Imp. Why should they,—when there are so many other things to dream of at Christmas time? If you don't believe me, we'll leave it to Santa Claus. Here he comes now. Hooray!

[Pg 6]

(As Santa Claus enters from L. of stage the Imps run to meet him, and holding an end of the harness in each hand form a ring and dance around him in time to the jingling of the bells.)

Santa Claus. Hold on! Hold on there! When a fellow gets to be my age his head isn't steady enough to stand any such merry-go-'round as this. Come on now, let's see if you've done your work properly and polished the bells as I told you.

(He sits down in his big armchair and the Imps climb upon his lap.)

First Imp. I said I would make my bells so bright that people would think they were twinkling stars.

Second Imp. And I said——

First Imp (interrupting). Never mind what you said. There wasn't any sense to that. Santa Claus, tell us, what do children dream about at Christmas time?

Santa Claus. What do children dream about? Why, they dream about me, of course.

Both Imps (each shaking a finger at him). O-ho!

Santa Claus. There! I suppose you think I'm a conceited old chap, but if you don't believe me we'll ask the Sand-Man. (The Sand-Man enters, L. door, carrying a big bag over his shoulder, and a small bag in his hand.) Just starting off on your rounds, I see. Have you a heavy load to-night?

Sand-Man. The sand-bag is heavy, but the dream-bag is light. There isn't much to a dream, you know;—just a whiff of fairy powder wrapped up in a bit of mist. But they do the trick all the same,—and how the children love them.

Santa Claus. And what are these dreams which the children love? Are any of them about me?

Sand-Man. Why, no, Santa. Of course they used to be, but times have changed, you see. Children nowadays have so many interests.

Santa Claus. But I thought perhaps just at Christmas time—[Pg 7]—

Sand-Man. Yes, I know, I know. Yet, after all, dreams are really a matter of habit. It's the things which the children enjoy all through the year that stay in their minds after they fall asleep.

Santa Claus. Well, what are these things which the children enjoy all the year and dream about every night?

Sand-Man. Ah! That would be telling. Mustn't give away the secrets of the trade, you know. Well, I'm off. See you later.

[Exit, R. door.

Santa Claus (to the Imps). Run out with him, boys, and help him down the steps with his bags. (Exeunt Imps.) H'm! I didn't find out what I wanted to, did I? I wish I could, though (Yawning.), I wish I could; but what's the old saying: "If wishes were horses, beggars might ride"? Holloa! Who's this coming? (The Wish-Bone enters, R. door.) How strangely he walks,—must be kind o' stiff in his joints, or else he hasn't any joints at all. Good-evening, friend, who might you be?

Wish-Bone (in a melancholy tone). My name is Wish-Bone. I am all that's left of the Thanksgiving turkey.

Santa Claus (sympathetically). I say, now, that's rather a lonely fate for you; but cheer up, it might be worse.

Wish-Bone (in the same melancholy tone). It will be worse. I expect to be laid up with a broken leg most any day now.

Santa Claus. Broken leg? Why, bless my stars, man, what makes you expect anything like that to happen?

Wish-Bone. It always happens to us wish-bones; runs in the family. Sometimes it's both legs that are broken, and the head flies off; and that's the greatest pity of all, for then there isn't any one gets their wish.

Santa Claus. Is your business something like mine, then; giving people whatever they wish?

Wish-Bone. N-no,-not exactly giving it,—just promising it. But it all amounts to the same thing. Once make people believe they'll get what they wish for, and somehow it always comes in the end.

Santa Claus. Then perhaps you can help me out.[Pg 8] My great wish just at present is to know what the children are dreaming about to-night.

Wish-Bone. Sorry to refuse you, but I'm not ready for business yet. Don't feel quite equal to it. Wait until I get a little more snap in me, and then I'll call around again. Good-night.

[Exit Wish-Bone, R. door.

Santa Claus. He's about the gloomiest creature I ever saw; and yet he struck sort of a hopeful note when he said people would get what they wished for if they only believed it. I wonder how that would work out in my case. (The Sand-Man enters, R. door.) Ah! here comes the Sand-Man back again. Well, how did things go with you to-night? Is your sand-bag empty?

Sand-Man. Almost. It takes a powerful lot of sand to make the children sleepy the night before Christmas.

Santa Claus. And are the dreams all gone too?

Sand-Man. Not quite. There was one little girl who refused to go to bed at all, because she is so anxious to see Santa Claus when he comes. I had two nice dreams picked out for her but I couldn't use them. Well, my evening's work is over. (Dropping his bags on the table.) I suppose you'll be starting soon now.

Santa Claus. Pretty soon. But what you told me about that little girl has put me on my guard. It would never do to let her see me while I am filling her stocking. So I think I'll sit down by the fire and wait for a few minutes. She won't be able to keep awake very long. If you see my Imps around anywhere, send them along in here. Lazy little scamps! It's time they were helping me to pack up the toys. (As the Sand-Man goes out, L. door, Santa Claus draws his chair up to the fireplace, where he sits musing with his eyes half-closed; yawning.) I—wish—I—could—know—what the children are dreaming about to-night.

(The two Imps enter, L. door, and tiptoe forward cautiously.)

First Imp (whispers). Is Santa Claus asleep?

Second Imp. No, he's only thinking. But we could make him go to sleep if we wanted to. Here's the Sand-Man's [Pg 9]bag, and it isn't quite empty. Wouldn't it be fun to drop some sand in Santa's eyes!

First Imp. Hush! He'll hear you.

(They creep up behind Santa Claus and toss the sand in his face. He yawns again.)

Second Imp. I think he's almost asleep now. Here are two dreams in the dream-bag. Let's open them.

First Imp. Look out there, clumsy, you're spilling them!

Second Imp. They were so light I couldn't help it. The fairy powder is flying all around the room. It's filling the air so that I can't see. Are you afraid?

First Imp. Of course not. There's nothing to be afraid of. Listen! Some one is coming.

(As the light grows dim, soft, slow music is heard, and the Lollipop appears at the R. of the stage and moves slowly across to the L., in time to the music.)

Second Imp (whispering). That looks like one of those red-headed lollipops that Santa Claus made to put in the children's stockings. Do you s'pose that one has escaped from the box?

First Imp. I don't think it's a real lollipop. Maybe it's only a dream. See! It's vanishing away.

(The Lollipop disappears. Santa Claus stirs in his sleep, while the music, slightly louder, changes to a livelier tune. The Ice-Cream Cone enters through the R. door and crosses the stage dancing a jig.)

Second Imp. Oh, how funny! What is it?

First Imp. That is an ice-cream cone. All children love to eat them.

Second Imp. Why, I could make one of those. If I took a tin trumpet from Santa Claus's toy-shop and piled it full of snow 'twould be just the same thing, wouldn't it?

First Imp. No—for even if you were to eat the snow all up, the tin trumpet would still be left in your hand.[Pg 10] But there's never anything left of an ice-cream cone. Didn't you notice how quickly this one went, almost as soon as it came?

Second Imp. But that is because it was only a dream.

First Imp. That hasn't anything to do with it. A real ice-cream cone wouldn't have lasted much longer. Sh! Who's coming now? (As the Ice-Cream Cone disappears the music stops, and the light grows bright again. The Little Girl enters at the R. She is wrapped in a muffler and carries a lighted lantern. Coming toward the front of the stage she stops in terror on seeing the Imps.) Don't be frightened, little girl. We're only Santa Claus's imps. We won't hurt you.

Little Girl. Then this really is where Santa Claus lives, and I didn't make a mistake in the place? Please tell me, is Santa Claus at home? Oh, there he is asleep by the fire. (She puts her lantern on the floor and goes up to Santa Claus.) Santa Claus! Dear Santa Claus! Please wake up. It's getting very late.

Santa Claus (rubbing his eyes). Why, bless my soul! I must have been napping. And who are you, my dear?

Little Girl. I'm the little girl who wouldn't go to bed to-night, for I wanted to sit up to see Santa Claus. But I waited and waited, and you didn't come. Oh, Santa Claus, don't say that you're not coming at all. The children would be so disappointed.

Santa Claus. The children are happy. They are having sweet dreams. Ah! I know now what they're dreaming about. Lollipops and ice-cream cones. They're not thinking much about poor old Santa Claus.

Little Girl. Oh, but Santa Claus, we do think about you very often. We love you much more than we do the lollipops and the ice-cream cones, for they just melt away and don't last at all.

Santa Claus. And what makes you think that I would last any longer?

Little Girl. Well, you know, Santa, you've already lasted a great many years.

Santa Claus. Kind of a slam on my age, that is.[Pg 11] But it's true, every word of it. I have lasted a great many years, and the best part of it is, I'm good for as many years more. So if the children are expecting me, we'd better hurry and be off. (To the Imps.) Bring along your harness there, boys; it's time to hitch up the reindeer. Wrap your muffler around you tight, little girl. We're going to have a cold ride. Here, isn't this your lantern?

Little Girl. I shan't need the light of the lantern now, for the bells on your harness are so bright they shine like stars.

First Imp. That's exactly what I said when I was cleaning them.

Second Imp. And I said that their tones were so clear that the children would believe they were the birds singing in the springtime. I was right too, wasn't I?

Little Girl. No, you foolish Imp. When the children hear Santa Claus's sleigh-bells ringing they will smile in their sleep and think that they are listening to the music of the Christmas carols.

(As the curtain falls the Imps jingle the bells, while behind the scenes voices sing "Carol, brothers, carol," or some other appropriate Christmas song.)

CURTAIN

THE CONJURER

A Dramatic Mystery in Three Acts

By Mansfield Scott Author of "The Submarine Shell," "The Air-Spy," etc.

Eight male, four female characters. Costumes, modern; scenery, two easy interiors. Plays a full evening. Royalty for amateur performance, $10.00 for the first and $5.00 each for subsequent performances by the same company. Free for school performance. George Clifford, incapacitated for service at the front, employs his great talents as a conjurer to raise money for the soldiers. He is utilized by Inspector Steele, of the U. S. Secret Service, in a plan to discover certain foreign spies. The plan goes wrong and involves seven persons in suspicion of a serious crime. Clifford's clever unravelling of this tangled skein constitutes the thrilling plot of this play, the interest of which is curiously like that of the popular "Thirteenth Chair." This is not a "war-play" save in a very remote and indirect way, but a clever detective story of absorbing interest. Strongly recommended.

Price, 35 cents

CHARACTERS

SYNOPSIS

Act I.—The home of Colonel Anderson (Friday evening).

Act II.—The office of Inspector Steele (Saturday afternoon).

Act III.—The same as Act II (Saturday evening).

THE OTHER VOICE

A Play in One Act

By S. vK. Fairbanks

Three voices, preferably male, are employed in this little novelty which is intended to be presented upon a dark stage upon which nothing is actually visible save starlight. It was originally produced at Workshop 47, Cambridge, where its effective distillation of the essential oil of tragedy was curiously successful. An admirable item for any programme seeking variety of material and effect. Naturally no costumes nor scenery are required, save a drop carrying stars and possibly a city sky-line. Plays ten minutes only; royalty, $5.00.

Price, 25 cents

A COUPLE OF MILLION

An American Comedy in Four Acts

By Walter Ben Hare Author of "Professor Pepp," "Much Ado About Betty," "The Hoodoo," "The Dutch Detective," etc.

Six males, five females. Costumes, modern; scenery, two interiors and an exterior. Plays a full evening. Royalty, ten dollars ($10.00) for each performance. A more ambitious play by this popular author in the same successful vein as his previous offerings. Bemis Bennington is left two million dollars by his uncle on condition that he shall live for one year in a town of less than five thousand inhabitants and during that period marry and earn without other assistance than his own industry and ability the sum of five thousand dollars. Failing to accomplish this the money goes to one Professor Noah Jabb. This is done despite the energetic opposition of Jabb, who puts up a very interesting fight. A capital play that can be strongly recommended. Plenty of good comedy and a great variety of good parts, full of opportunity.

Price, 35 cents

CHARACTERS

SYNOPSIS

Act I.—The law office of Hon. Jeremy Wise, New York City. A morning in July.

Act II.—The exterior of the court-house, Opaloopa, Alabama. An afternoon in October.

Act III.—Same as Act II. The next afternoon.

Act IV.—Mrs. Courtenay's sitting-room, Opaloopa, Alabama. A night in April.

ISOSCELES

A Play in One Act

By Walter Ben Hare

Two male, one female characters. Costumes, modern; scene, an interior. Plays twenty minutes. Royalty $2.50 for each performance. An admirable little travesty of the conventional emotional recipe calling for husband, wife and lover. Played in the proper spirit of burlesque it is howlingly funny. Strongly recommended for the semi-professional uses of schools of acting. A capital bit for a benefit or exhibition programme, offering a decided novelty.

Price, 25 cents

NO TRESPASSING

A Play in Three Acts

By Evelyn Gray Whiting

Six males, five females. Costumes, modern; scenery, a single easy interior. Plays two hours. Free of royalty. Lisle Irving, a lively "city girl," goes down into the country on a vacation and to get rid of a husband of her father's choice whom she has never seen, and runs into the very man living there under another name. He meets her by accident and takes her to be one of a pair of twins who have been living at the farmhouse. She discovers his mistake and in the character of both twins in alternation gives him the time of his life, incidentally falling in love with him. An unusual abundance of good comedy characters, including one—Bill Meader—of great originality and humor, sure to make a big hit. Strongly recommended.

Price, 35 cents

CHARACTERS

Bill Meader, "on the town." Jim Meader, son of Bill, a boy of sixteen to eighteen. Mr. Palmer, a New England farmer. Cleveland Tower, a young city fellow, guest of Raynor. Herbert Edmand Raynor, a young Englishman. Mr. Irving, father of Lisle. Lisle Irving, a girl of seventeen. Peggy Palmer, a girl of eighteen or twenty. Mrs. Palmer, Peggy's mother. Barbara Palmer, a girl of ten or twelve years. Almeda Meader, a girl about Barbara's age.

THE GIRL UP-STAIRS

A Comedy in Two Acts

By Gladys Ruth Bridgham

Seven females. Costumes, modern; scenery, an interior. Plays an hour. Daisy Jordan, crazy to get "on the stage," comes to New York and starves there in a lodging house waiting for her chance. She schemes to get an interview with Cicely Denver, a popular actress, to act before her, but the result is not at all what she intended. A capital play with strong and ingenious opportunities for good acting. Recommended.

Price, 25 cents