SANTA CLAUS IN MANY LANDS.For Twenty Characters—Six Girls, Nine Boys, Four Little Children and One Adult.America⎫BoysHindustan⎪China⎪Scotland⎪Ireland⎬Russia⎪Indian⎪Philippine⎪Esquimau⎭France⎫GirlsGermany⎪Japan⎪England⎬Spain⎪Italy⎭Santa Claus,An Adult.Four Little Children.This is good to introduce a school Christmas tree. At the close of the play letSanta Clausdistribute the gifts with the help of the various characters.If desired, the number participating can be doubled by having a boy and a girl for each country. Or, the number can be reduced by omitting some of the characters and the lines referring to them. As the stanzas are not of set length they can easily be reduced or combined. Costumes at end of the play.
For Twenty Characters—Six Girls, Nine Boys, Four Little Children and One Adult.
This is good to introduce a school Christmas tree. At the close of the play letSanta Clausdistribute the gifts with the help of the various characters.
If desired, the number participating can be doubled by having a boy and a girl for each country. Or, the number can be reduced by omitting some of the characters and the lines referring to them. As the stanzas are not of set length they can easily be reduced or combined. Costumes at end of the play.
Americaenters—Christmas is coming. How glad I amThat I live where there is an Uncle Sam.I suppose it is Christmas everywhere,But for some Christmases I wouldn’t care.It can’t be jolly in Hindustan,For there it is never what I would plan.Hindustanenters—No country is quite so good as mineWhere Buddha and Brahmin rule and shine.We follow their birthdays all the year,And many a feast-day comes to cheer.Is Santa Claus Brahmin? I do not know,Is Christmas Buddha? Where does it go?(ToAmerica.)Why do you seem to love him so?And what is Christmas, I’d like to know?Germanyenters—Our own is the dearest FatherlandOf any that there can be.Kriss Kringle brings toys to all who are good,With cakes and sweetmeats and all nice food,And the beautiful Christmas tree.And always we in dear GermanyAre glad when the Christ-child comes.He leaves fine gifts and brings much joyTo every good little girl and boyIn all the dear German homes.Chinaenters—Melican Santa Claus velly big Joss.Me sabe (pronounced “sabby”) him, me likee.He tellee me allee time bling toys when me good,Me likee, me be good allee time. Sabe?My countlee (country) we hab plenty big JossNo same like Melican Santa.Santa tellee me be good all time, to ev’ly body.Me sabe him. Me likee.Franceenters—Maybe your wonderful Christmas timeIs not quite alike in every clime,But here, in beautiful, sunny FranceIt brings us music and many a dance,(Whirls and dances through these two lines.)With feasting and calling on each dear friend,With pleasure and jollity without end.(Bows, curtseys back to place, throwing kisses.)Irelandenters—Ould Scotland has her heather,An’ England has her rose,But Ireland has her shamrock green,The darlin’est thing that grows.An’ to you now, ould Santy,We bring the shamrock dear.It manes good luck to ivery wan,An’ good luck all the year.An’ whin ’tis Christmas comin’Wid all its games an’ toys,Oh, thin ’tis sure the shamrock landIs best fur gurruls an’ boys.Eskimoenters—It is cold and beautiful where I live,No place can be quite so good;But the things I hear about todayI have not quite understood.But Santa, you say, loves children well,And I hope he’ll visit me,For my country lies along his wayWhen he comes from the Arctic sea.Come bring my people, Santa dear,The happy times they tell of here.Russiaenters—Midst the great white snows of our great white landLive hundreds of boys and girls,And Christmas time brings us many a joyAs the snow and the storm wind whirls.No Christmas tree, but a gathering greatOf friends by the warm house fire,With games and giving,—oh! Christmas timeIs the Russian child’s desire.Englandenters—Christmas is coming in England dear.’Tis the gladdest time of all the year;With the big boar’s head, with the pudding ablaze,’Tis the merriest one of all our days.The Waits are singing—the Mummers shout,—In the great cathedrals the bells ring out.For rich and poor, for young and old,The Christmas message is sung and told.“Peace, peace on earth, good will to men,”We love to sing it each year again.Scotlandenters—In bonnie Scotland, our own rugged land,Where moors and mountains are so wild and grand,We go most soberly to our dear kirkAnd hear the sermons—rather serious workFor us it is sometimes—but still we loveTo hear the story of the Lord above.No Christmas tree we have, but quiet giving.We trust to goodness in our daily living.Ireland—(Speaking toEnglandandScotlandas he joins them.)We’re cousins—the three of us—what do we careHow different—or same—are our countries, they’re fairTo each of us. Isn’t it so? Then hurrah!Hurrah for ould Christmas, whoever we are!Spainenters—In sunny Spain we celebrate with flowers;The sweet guitar with music fills the hours.We do not have a tree; in hall or streetOur gifts are given to the friends we meet.Christmas is gay for us in sunny Spain,We’re always glad when gift-time comes again.Italyenters—The sun shines fair upon our Italy,And gives its gold to everything we see.And when the blessed Christ-child comes each yearWe worship him, and beg that he will hearAnd bless us as we kneel, and so we knowWe shall be happy everywhere we go.And when again our homes we reach, there, piled,Are lovely things sent by the holy child.Japanenters—Our holy Buddha has a birthday, too,A sacred day it is. The children strewThe lovely flowers all along the way,And chant the legends of that holy day.All have new robes, and every girl and boyWish for their elders greatest peace and joy,And then receive sweet cakes and cups of tea.No children anywhere more blest could be.Philippineenters—They come to our islands far beyond the seasAnd tell us of such lands and tribes as these.They teach us words like “peace,” “to men good will,”And show us what it is to drive and kill.I can’t quite understand the things they say,It seems to me a very curious way;But these are children just like me, and soThey have good times in their own lands, I know.If Santa Claus can make me glad like these,And bring such ways to us beyond the seas,I’m ready now to follow—love him, too,—And then perhaps I’ll know just what is true,Know what it means to hear now and againSuch words as “love” and “peace, good will to men.”Indianenters—(Walks slowly to his place, folds arms, looks about him, speaks slowly.)You speak too many words. All spirits goodWill love all children dwelling in the woodOr tepees of the land. They takeGreat care of all deserving ones, and makeThem wise and great. Your toys we do not need.Still, if there’s a children’s saint, indeed,He might at Christmas time to us come round.The tales these tell (pointing around) have quite a pleasant sound.Children—(Rush in pullingSanta Clauswith them, two at each hand. Others may be with them to any desired number.)Santa—In every land the little children dwell,And all of them are mine; I love them well.Some call one day each year the Christmas day.And celebrate with joy. And some lands sayThat other days are best; yet every childWho’s good and kind, with tender hearts and mildTo help another’s pain, or comfort tears,That child keeps Christmas day all through the years.All, all are mine. In every land or creed,Who love to help another’s want or need.(Childrendance aroundSanta Claussinging.)Tune: “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow.”Santa Claus has brought us Christmas,Santa Claus has brought us Christmas,Santa Claus has brought us Christmas,Hurrah for Christmas day!(All the characters join hands and skip aroundSanta Claus, singing together.)Hurrah for Christmas day!Hurrah for Christmas day!Santa Claus has brought us Christmas,Santa Claus has brought us Christmas,Santa Claus has brought us Christmas,Hurrah for Christmas day!
Americaenters—Christmas is coming. How glad I amThat I live where there is an Uncle Sam.I suppose it is Christmas everywhere,But for some Christmases I wouldn’t care.It can’t be jolly in Hindustan,For there it is never what I would plan.Hindustanenters—No country is quite so good as mineWhere Buddha and Brahmin rule and shine.We follow their birthdays all the year,And many a feast-day comes to cheer.Is Santa Claus Brahmin? I do not know,Is Christmas Buddha? Where does it go?(ToAmerica.)Why do you seem to love him so?And what is Christmas, I’d like to know?Germanyenters—Our own is the dearest FatherlandOf any that there can be.Kriss Kringle brings toys to all who are good,With cakes and sweetmeats and all nice food,And the beautiful Christmas tree.And always we in dear GermanyAre glad when the Christ-child comes.He leaves fine gifts and brings much joyTo every good little girl and boyIn all the dear German homes.Chinaenters—Melican Santa Claus velly big Joss.Me sabe (pronounced “sabby”) him, me likee.He tellee me allee time bling toys when me good,Me likee, me be good allee time. Sabe?My countlee (country) we hab plenty big JossNo same like Melican Santa.Santa tellee me be good all time, to ev’ly body.Me sabe him. Me likee.Franceenters—Maybe your wonderful Christmas timeIs not quite alike in every clime,But here, in beautiful, sunny FranceIt brings us music and many a dance,(Whirls and dances through these two lines.)With feasting and calling on each dear friend,With pleasure and jollity without end.(Bows, curtseys back to place, throwing kisses.)Irelandenters—Ould Scotland has her heather,An’ England has her rose,But Ireland has her shamrock green,The darlin’est thing that grows.An’ to you now, ould Santy,We bring the shamrock dear.It manes good luck to ivery wan,An’ good luck all the year.An’ whin ’tis Christmas comin’Wid all its games an’ toys,Oh, thin ’tis sure the shamrock landIs best fur gurruls an’ boys.Eskimoenters—It is cold and beautiful where I live,No place can be quite so good;But the things I hear about todayI have not quite understood.But Santa, you say, loves children well,And I hope he’ll visit me,For my country lies along his wayWhen he comes from the Arctic sea.Come bring my people, Santa dear,The happy times they tell of here.Russiaenters—Midst the great white snows of our great white landLive hundreds of boys and girls,And Christmas time brings us many a joyAs the snow and the storm wind whirls.No Christmas tree, but a gathering greatOf friends by the warm house fire,With games and giving,—oh! Christmas timeIs the Russian child’s desire.Englandenters—Christmas is coming in England dear.’Tis the gladdest time of all the year;With the big boar’s head, with the pudding ablaze,’Tis the merriest one of all our days.The Waits are singing—the Mummers shout,—In the great cathedrals the bells ring out.For rich and poor, for young and old,The Christmas message is sung and told.“Peace, peace on earth, good will to men,”We love to sing it each year again.Scotlandenters—In bonnie Scotland, our own rugged land,Where moors and mountains are so wild and grand,We go most soberly to our dear kirkAnd hear the sermons—rather serious workFor us it is sometimes—but still we loveTo hear the story of the Lord above.No Christmas tree we have, but quiet giving.We trust to goodness in our daily living.Ireland—(Speaking toEnglandandScotlandas he joins them.)We’re cousins—the three of us—what do we careHow different—or same—are our countries, they’re fairTo each of us. Isn’t it so? Then hurrah!Hurrah for ould Christmas, whoever we are!Spainenters—In sunny Spain we celebrate with flowers;The sweet guitar with music fills the hours.We do not have a tree; in hall or streetOur gifts are given to the friends we meet.Christmas is gay for us in sunny Spain,We’re always glad when gift-time comes again.Italyenters—The sun shines fair upon our Italy,And gives its gold to everything we see.And when the blessed Christ-child comes each yearWe worship him, and beg that he will hearAnd bless us as we kneel, and so we knowWe shall be happy everywhere we go.And when again our homes we reach, there, piled,Are lovely things sent by the holy child.Japanenters—Our holy Buddha has a birthday, too,A sacred day it is. The children strewThe lovely flowers all along the way,And chant the legends of that holy day.All have new robes, and every girl and boyWish for their elders greatest peace and joy,And then receive sweet cakes and cups of tea.No children anywhere more blest could be.Philippineenters—They come to our islands far beyond the seasAnd tell us of such lands and tribes as these.They teach us words like “peace,” “to men good will,”And show us what it is to drive and kill.I can’t quite understand the things they say,It seems to me a very curious way;But these are children just like me, and soThey have good times in their own lands, I know.If Santa Claus can make me glad like these,And bring such ways to us beyond the seas,I’m ready now to follow—love him, too,—And then perhaps I’ll know just what is true,Know what it means to hear now and againSuch words as “love” and “peace, good will to men.”Indianenters—(Walks slowly to his place, folds arms, looks about him, speaks slowly.)You speak too many words. All spirits goodWill love all children dwelling in the woodOr tepees of the land. They takeGreat care of all deserving ones, and makeThem wise and great. Your toys we do not need.Still, if there’s a children’s saint, indeed,He might at Christmas time to us come round.The tales these tell (pointing around) have quite a pleasant sound.Children—(Rush in pullingSanta Clauswith them, two at each hand. Others may be with them to any desired number.)Santa—In every land the little children dwell,And all of them are mine; I love them well.Some call one day each year the Christmas day.And celebrate with joy. And some lands sayThat other days are best; yet every childWho’s good and kind, with tender hearts and mildTo help another’s pain, or comfort tears,That child keeps Christmas day all through the years.All, all are mine. In every land or creed,Who love to help another’s want or need.(Childrendance aroundSanta Claussinging.)Tune: “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow.”Santa Claus has brought us Christmas,Santa Claus has brought us Christmas,Santa Claus has brought us Christmas,Hurrah for Christmas day!(All the characters join hands and skip aroundSanta Claus, singing together.)Hurrah for Christmas day!Hurrah for Christmas day!Santa Claus has brought us Christmas,Santa Claus has brought us Christmas,Santa Claus has brought us Christmas,Hurrah for Christmas day!
Americaenters—Christmas is coming. How glad I amThat I live where there is an Uncle Sam.I suppose it is Christmas everywhere,But for some Christmases I wouldn’t care.It can’t be jolly in Hindustan,For there it is never what I would plan.
Americaenters—
Christmas is coming. How glad I am
That I live where there is an Uncle Sam.
I suppose it is Christmas everywhere,
But for some Christmases I wouldn’t care.
It can’t be jolly in Hindustan,
For there it is never what I would plan.
Hindustanenters—No country is quite so good as mineWhere Buddha and Brahmin rule and shine.We follow their birthdays all the year,And many a feast-day comes to cheer.Is Santa Claus Brahmin? I do not know,Is Christmas Buddha? Where does it go?
Hindustanenters—
No country is quite so good as mine
Where Buddha and Brahmin rule and shine.
We follow their birthdays all the year,
And many a feast-day comes to cheer.
Is Santa Claus Brahmin? I do not know,
Is Christmas Buddha? Where does it go?
(ToAmerica.)Why do you seem to love him so?And what is Christmas, I’d like to know?
(ToAmerica.)
Why do you seem to love him so?
And what is Christmas, I’d like to know?
Germanyenters—Our own is the dearest FatherlandOf any that there can be.Kriss Kringle brings toys to all who are good,With cakes and sweetmeats and all nice food,And the beautiful Christmas tree.And always we in dear GermanyAre glad when the Christ-child comes.He leaves fine gifts and brings much joyTo every good little girl and boyIn all the dear German homes.
Germanyenters—
Our own is the dearest Fatherland
Of any that there can be.
Kriss Kringle brings toys to all who are good,
With cakes and sweetmeats and all nice food,
And the beautiful Christmas tree.
And always we in dear Germany
Are glad when the Christ-child comes.
He leaves fine gifts and brings much joy
To every good little girl and boy
In all the dear German homes.
Chinaenters—Melican Santa Claus velly big Joss.Me sabe (pronounced “sabby”) him, me likee.He tellee me allee time bling toys when me good,Me likee, me be good allee time. Sabe?My countlee (country) we hab plenty big JossNo same like Melican Santa.Santa tellee me be good all time, to ev’ly body.Me sabe him. Me likee.
Chinaenters—
Melican Santa Claus velly big Joss.
Me sabe (pronounced “sabby”) him, me likee.
He tellee me allee time bling toys when me good,
Me likee, me be good allee time. Sabe?
My countlee (country) we hab plenty big Joss
No same like Melican Santa.
Santa tellee me be good all time, to ev’ly body.
Me sabe him. Me likee.
Franceenters—Maybe your wonderful Christmas timeIs not quite alike in every clime,But here, in beautiful, sunny FranceIt brings us music and many a dance,(Whirls and dances through these two lines.)With feasting and calling on each dear friend,With pleasure and jollity without end.(Bows, curtseys back to place, throwing kisses.)
Franceenters—
Maybe your wonderful Christmas time
Is not quite alike in every clime,
But here, in beautiful, sunny France
It brings us music and many a dance,
(Whirls and dances through these two lines.)
With feasting and calling on each dear friend,
With pleasure and jollity without end.
(Bows, curtseys back to place, throwing kisses.)
Irelandenters—Ould Scotland has her heather,An’ England has her rose,But Ireland has her shamrock green,The darlin’est thing that grows.An’ to you now, ould Santy,We bring the shamrock dear.It manes good luck to ivery wan,An’ good luck all the year.An’ whin ’tis Christmas comin’Wid all its games an’ toys,Oh, thin ’tis sure the shamrock landIs best fur gurruls an’ boys.
Irelandenters—
Ould Scotland has her heather,
An’ England has her rose,
But Ireland has her shamrock green,
The darlin’est thing that grows.
An’ to you now, ould Santy,
We bring the shamrock dear.
It manes good luck to ivery wan,
An’ good luck all the year.
An’ whin ’tis Christmas comin’
Wid all its games an’ toys,
Oh, thin ’tis sure the shamrock land
Is best fur gurruls an’ boys.
Eskimoenters—It is cold and beautiful where I live,No place can be quite so good;But the things I hear about todayI have not quite understood.But Santa, you say, loves children well,And I hope he’ll visit me,For my country lies along his wayWhen he comes from the Arctic sea.Come bring my people, Santa dear,The happy times they tell of here.
Eskimoenters—
It is cold and beautiful where I live,
No place can be quite so good;
But the things I hear about today
I have not quite understood.
But Santa, you say, loves children well,
And I hope he’ll visit me,
For my country lies along his way
When he comes from the Arctic sea.
Come bring my people, Santa dear,
The happy times they tell of here.
Russiaenters—Midst the great white snows of our great white landLive hundreds of boys and girls,And Christmas time brings us many a joyAs the snow and the storm wind whirls.No Christmas tree, but a gathering greatOf friends by the warm house fire,With games and giving,—oh! Christmas timeIs the Russian child’s desire.
Russiaenters—
Midst the great white snows of our great white land
Live hundreds of boys and girls,
And Christmas time brings us many a joy
As the snow and the storm wind whirls.
No Christmas tree, but a gathering great
Of friends by the warm house fire,
With games and giving,—oh! Christmas time
Is the Russian child’s desire.
Englandenters—Christmas is coming in England dear.’Tis the gladdest time of all the year;With the big boar’s head, with the pudding ablaze,’Tis the merriest one of all our days.The Waits are singing—the Mummers shout,—In the great cathedrals the bells ring out.For rich and poor, for young and old,The Christmas message is sung and told.“Peace, peace on earth, good will to men,”We love to sing it each year again.
Englandenters—
Christmas is coming in England dear.
’Tis the gladdest time of all the year;
With the big boar’s head, with the pudding ablaze,
’Tis the merriest one of all our days.
The Waits are singing—the Mummers shout,—
In the great cathedrals the bells ring out.
For rich and poor, for young and old,
The Christmas message is sung and told.
“Peace, peace on earth, good will to men,”
We love to sing it each year again.
Scotlandenters—In bonnie Scotland, our own rugged land,Where moors and mountains are so wild and grand,We go most soberly to our dear kirkAnd hear the sermons—rather serious workFor us it is sometimes—but still we loveTo hear the story of the Lord above.No Christmas tree we have, but quiet giving.We trust to goodness in our daily living.
Scotlandenters—
In bonnie Scotland, our own rugged land,
Where moors and mountains are so wild and grand,
We go most soberly to our dear kirk
And hear the sermons—rather serious work
For us it is sometimes—but still we love
To hear the story of the Lord above.
No Christmas tree we have, but quiet giving.
We trust to goodness in our daily living.
Ireland—(Speaking toEnglandandScotlandas he joins them.)We’re cousins—the three of us—what do we careHow different—or same—are our countries, they’re fairTo each of us. Isn’t it so? Then hurrah!Hurrah for ould Christmas, whoever we are!
Ireland—(Speaking toEnglandandScotlandas he joins them.)
We’re cousins—the three of us—what do we care
How different—or same—are our countries, they’re fair
To each of us. Isn’t it so? Then hurrah!
Hurrah for ould Christmas, whoever we are!
Spainenters—In sunny Spain we celebrate with flowers;The sweet guitar with music fills the hours.We do not have a tree; in hall or streetOur gifts are given to the friends we meet.Christmas is gay for us in sunny Spain,We’re always glad when gift-time comes again.
Spainenters—
In sunny Spain we celebrate with flowers;
The sweet guitar with music fills the hours.
We do not have a tree; in hall or street
Our gifts are given to the friends we meet.
Christmas is gay for us in sunny Spain,
We’re always glad when gift-time comes again.
Italyenters—The sun shines fair upon our Italy,And gives its gold to everything we see.And when the blessed Christ-child comes each yearWe worship him, and beg that he will hearAnd bless us as we kneel, and so we knowWe shall be happy everywhere we go.And when again our homes we reach, there, piled,Are lovely things sent by the holy child.
Italyenters—
The sun shines fair upon our Italy,
And gives its gold to everything we see.
And when the blessed Christ-child comes each year
We worship him, and beg that he will hear
And bless us as we kneel, and so we know
We shall be happy everywhere we go.
And when again our homes we reach, there, piled,
Are lovely things sent by the holy child.
Japanenters—Our holy Buddha has a birthday, too,A sacred day it is. The children strewThe lovely flowers all along the way,And chant the legends of that holy day.All have new robes, and every girl and boyWish for their elders greatest peace and joy,And then receive sweet cakes and cups of tea.No children anywhere more blest could be.
Japanenters—
Our holy Buddha has a birthday, too,
A sacred day it is. The children strew
The lovely flowers all along the way,
And chant the legends of that holy day.
All have new robes, and every girl and boy
Wish for their elders greatest peace and joy,
And then receive sweet cakes and cups of tea.
No children anywhere more blest could be.
Philippineenters—They come to our islands far beyond the seasAnd tell us of such lands and tribes as these.They teach us words like “peace,” “to men good will,”And show us what it is to drive and kill.I can’t quite understand the things they say,It seems to me a very curious way;But these are children just like me, and soThey have good times in their own lands, I know.If Santa Claus can make me glad like these,And bring such ways to us beyond the seas,I’m ready now to follow—love him, too,—And then perhaps I’ll know just what is true,Know what it means to hear now and againSuch words as “love” and “peace, good will to men.”
Philippineenters—
They come to our islands far beyond the seas
And tell us of such lands and tribes as these.
They teach us words like “peace,” “to men good will,”
And show us what it is to drive and kill.
I can’t quite understand the things they say,
It seems to me a very curious way;
But these are children just like me, and so
They have good times in their own lands, I know.
If Santa Claus can make me glad like these,
And bring such ways to us beyond the seas,
I’m ready now to follow—love him, too,—
And then perhaps I’ll know just what is true,
Know what it means to hear now and again
Such words as “love” and “peace, good will to men.”
Indianenters—(Walks slowly to his place, folds arms, looks about him, speaks slowly.)You speak too many words. All spirits goodWill love all children dwelling in the woodOr tepees of the land. They takeGreat care of all deserving ones, and makeThem wise and great. Your toys we do not need.Still, if there’s a children’s saint, indeed,He might at Christmas time to us come round.The tales these tell (pointing around) have quite a pleasant sound.
Indianenters—
(Walks slowly to his place, folds arms, looks about him, speaks slowly.)
You speak too many words. All spirits good
Will love all children dwelling in the wood
Or tepees of the land. They take
Great care of all deserving ones, and make
Them wise and great. Your toys we do not need.
Still, if there’s a children’s saint, indeed,
He might at Christmas time to us come round.
The tales these tell (pointing around) have quite a pleasant sound.
Children—(Rush in pullingSanta Clauswith them, two at each hand. Others may be with them to any desired number.)
Children—
(Rush in pullingSanta Clauswith them, two at each hand. Others may be with them to any desired number.)
Santa—In every land the little children dwell,And all of them are mine; I love them well.Some call one day each year the Christmas day.And celebrate with joy. And some lands sayThat other days are best; yet every childWho’s good and kind, with tender hearts and mildTo help another’s pain, or comfort tears,That child keeps Christmas day all through the years.All, all are mine. In every land or creed,Who love to help another’s want or need.
Santa—
In every land the little children dwell,
And all of them are mine; I love them well.
Some call one day each year the Christmas day.
And celebrate with joy. And some lands say
That other days are best; yet every child
Who’s good and kind, with tender hearts and mild
To help another’s pain, or comfort tears,
That child keeps Christmas day all through the years.
All, all are mine. In every land or creed,
Who love to help another’s want or need.
(Childrendance aroundSanta Claussinging.)
Tune: “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow.”
Santa Claus has brought us Christmas,Santa Claus has brought us Christmas,Santa Claus has brought us Christmas,Hurrah for Christmas day!
Santa Claus has brought us Christmas,
Santa Claus has brought us Christmas,
Santa Claus has brought us Christmas,
Hurrah for Christmas day!
(All the characters join hands and skip aroundSanta Claus, singing together.)
Hurrah for Christmas day!Hurrah for Christmas day!Santa Claus has brought us Christmas,Santa Claus has brought us Christmas,Santa Claus has brought us Christmas,Hurrah for Christmas day!
Hurrah for Christmas day!
Hurrah for Christmas day!
Santa Claus has brought us Christmas,
Santa Claus has brought us Christmas,
Santa Claus has brought us Christmas,
Hurrah for Christmas day!
CURTAIN.
As each character enters and speaks, let him use gestures or actions according to his words. This must be left to the judgment of the one in charge.
Santa Claus—Traditional red suit and cap, long whiskers, etc.
Four Little Children—Any pretty dress.
America—Modern dress.
Hindustan—White robe with loose sleeves. This reaches to the feet. Wide white belt, white turban.
Ireland—Green stockings, low, buckled shoes, gray knee trousers, white blouse waist, green tie, gray jacket.
Eskimo—Trousers, jacket and pointed hood of fur. Cotton flannel with the fuzzy side out answers very well.
Indian—Moccasins, brown overalls with a pleat laid on the outside of the leg, thus fitting it as close as is convenient. Over this pleat is a fringe of brown leather or tan cotton. Bright blanket over the shoulders. Red band around the head, with feathers standing up in it. Long black hair, painted face.
Scotland—Highland dress; plaid kilt and stockings, low shoes, dark jacket and red or plaid sash over the shoulder; fur pouch in front; Scotch cap.
China—Wide, loose trousers and blouse of dark blue, round cap of blue or black, with red button on top; “pigtail” and slanting eyes.
France—Fancy pink and blue frilled dress, arms and neck bare, slippers.
Philippine—Close fitting waist and tights of brown, hands and face brown, woolly wig. Skirt of raffia or grass reaching to the knees. Beads around the neck; carries a spear.
Germany—Blue skirt to ankles, white waist, black bodice, Dutch cap with flaps turned back from the face, long flaxen braids.
Japan—Gay kimono and sash, hair dressed high with tiny fans stuck in it.
Spain—Yellow dress with black bands around it, black bodice, large gay fan, hair dressed with high back comb and large red roses below each ear.
Italy—Green skirt with bands of bright trimming, white waist and apron, black bodice. Hair in braids with white headdress, which is a band of muslin six or seven inches wide and sixteen to eighteen inches long, one end pinned on top of the head, the other falling behind.
Russia—High, fur-trimmed boots, dark skirt and jacket and cap, all trimmed with fur.
England—A fair child with delicate features. Modern dress.