epubBooks Logo
Up the Chimney by Shepherd Knapp

Up the Chimney

by

subjects: Plays, Playscripts

  • EPUB 164 KB

  • Kindle 155 KB

  • Support epubBooks by making a small $2.99 PayPal donation purchase.

Description

One of a series of plays set at Christmas time intended for young boys and girls. It is intended, not only for acting, but also for reading. What sort of a Christmas play do the boys and girls like, and in what sort do we like to see them take part? It should be a play, surely, in which the dialogue is simple and natural, not stilted and artificial; one that seems like a bit of real life, and yet has plenty of fancy and imagination in it; one that suggests and helps to perpetuate some of the happy and wholesome customs of Christmas; above all, one that is pervaded by the Christmas spirit.


25 pages with a reading time of ~30 minutes (6374 words), and first published in 1921. This DRM-Free edition published by epubBooks, .

Community Reviews

There are currently no other reviews for this book.

Excerpt

The curtain opens, and you see a room in a house and four people, just as Mother Goose promised. On one side is a fire–place, and notice the stockings hanging by it. At the back is a window, looking out into the street, but you cannot see anything there, because it is dark out of doors. The little girl’s name is Polly, but the first one to speak is her brother, named JACK, who looks up from his letter and says:

Mother, how do you spell “friend”?

MOTHER answers: F, r, i, e, n, d. Have you nearly finished your letter, Jack?

Yes, says JACK, still writing. Then he stops, straightens up and says, There! It’s all done. Shall I read it to you, Mother?

Do, MOTHER answers. And Father puts down his newspaper to listen, and Polly stops writing. Mother goes on knitting, because she can knit and listen at the same time.

So JACK reads: “Dear Santa Claus, I have been very good this year—most of the time; and I wish you would bring me a toy soldier. I am very well and I hope you are. Your loving little friend, Jack.” Is that all right, Mother?

It is a very good letter, says MOTHER; only I thought you were going to speak about that pair of warm gloves for Father.

Oh, I forget that, says JACK, looking a little bit ashamed. I’ll put it in a postscript. So he goes on writing, and so does Polly. JACK says his words aloud while he writes them: “P.S.—Fa—ather—would—like—a—pair—of—warm—gloves.”

MOTHER looks over at Polly, who seems to have finished, and says: Polly, let us hear your letter.

So POLLY reads: “Dear Santa Claus, I am so glad that tomorrow is Christmas. We have all hung up our stockings, and I think I would like best to have a doll in short dresses. I love you very much. Your little friend, Polly. P.S.—I think Mother would like a ball of white knitting cotton.” I had to put that in a postscript, Mother, because I forgot, too.

And now FATHER, who has been listening all this time, says: Where will you put the letters?—on the mantel–piece or in the stockings?

Oh, on the mantel–piece, answers JACK. We always put them on the mantel–piece. Don’t you remember that, Father?

Yes, I believe I do, now that you speak of it, says FATHER.

Then the children put the two letters on the mantel–piece, standing them against the clock, so that they can be easily seen. While they are doing this, some one passes the window, walking along the street, and there comes a knock at the door.

Come in, says FATHER; and in comes a little woman, rather old, and rather bent, and rather lame.

Why, if it isn’t little Nurse Mary, cries FATHER, and they all rise up to greet her. She kisses both the children, and shakes hands with Father and Mother.

Here’s a chair for you, Nurse Mary, says JACK.

Let me take your cloak and hood, Nurse Mary, says POLLY.

When they were all seated again, FATHER says, I am afraid I shall have to give you a little scolding, Mary, for coming out on such a cold night. It really don’t do, you know.

Now, Doctor John, NURSE MARY answers, What do you expect? Haven’t I seen you every Christmas Eve since you were half the size of Master Jack here, and didn’t I knit with my own hands the first little stocking you ever hung up for Santa Claus, and don’t I remember how frightened you were that time when we heard the reindeers on the roof, and when the handful of walnuts came tumbling down the chimney? And do you expect me to stay away on Christmas Eve, like some lonely old woman, who never was nurse to any children at all, let alone two generations of them? What are you thinking of, Doctor John?

I am thinking, says FATHER smiling, that if you hadn’t come, we should have missed you dreadfully. But tell me, Nurse Mary, how are you feeling?

Well, answers NURSE MARY, to speak the truth, Doctor John, I think you must give me some medicine.

Medicine? cries MOTHER.

Are you sick, Nurse Mary? asks POLLY.

Yes, Miss Polly, sick, and very sick, too, NURSE MARY answers.

But how? asks FATHER. What’s wrong? Where is the trouble?

First of all, in my back, Doctor John, says NURSE MARY. Today, after sweeping and scrubbing a little, and baking a Christmas cake, I just ironed out a few pieces, my best cap and apron, and the likes of that, and before I had finished, I give you word my back began to ache. Now what do you make of it? And then, my joints—stiff! Yes, Dr. John, stiff! How am I to do my work with stiff joints, I’d like to know?

I see, says FATHER, shaking his head. This is a serious matter. But cheer up, Nurse Mary; I believe I have the very thing that will help you. He opens his medicine case, which stands on the table, and takes out a little bottle. Here it is, he says, and let me tell you how to take it; for with this medicine that is the most important part.