Santa Claus Offended
And Mr. Sharp Rebuked.

Words: Anonymous

Source: J. F. Kinsey and John McPherson, eds., Echoes Of Glory For The Sunday School. LaFayette, Indiana: The Echo Music Company, 1888.

Persons Represented. — Mr. Sharp, Johnie, Charlie, Ella and Lota, and Santa Claus.

Scene. — Mr. Sharp sitting in an arm chair reading a newspaper, his feet on the table, also two or three cigars laying on the table, back of him the children are grouped on low seats and on the floor playing.

Charlie. — In the morning is Christmas.

John. — I am so glad Christmas is most here, at last.

Ella. — So am I.

Charlie. — O, the store windows are just piling full of pretty things; horses, soldiers, and dolls and brooks, and fruit, and candy, and shooting crackers, just everything you can think of, I saw them when I went to the post office.

John. — Pa, may I go down the street and see the pretty things in the windows?

Lota. — Let me go too, Pa?

Mr. S. — (sternly) No! you children go to bed.

Charlie. — I hope Santa Clause will bring us lots of toys and good things.

Ella. — O, I want so many things.

John. — I want a Noah's ark, a drum and some soldiers and lots of candy.

Charlie. — I need a sled and a pair of skates and lots of shooting crackers.

Ella. — I hope I'll get a big wax doll and a set of china dishes.

Lota. — I want a candy elephant, a great big one.

Mr. S. — Children be quiet I can't read.

John. — What if Santa Claus wouldn't come to our house.

Ella. — I am afraid he won't stop.

Charlie. — He alwas comes down the chimney.

Ella. — I am going to hang up my stockings.

Lota. — Will Santa Claus come down the chimney?

John. — Pa, we are going to hang up our stockings.

Lota. — Pa, are you and mamma going to hang up your stockings!

Mr. S. — (exasperated,) You foolish children, stop your talking, go right to bed. What makes you so bad? Such a fuss, such a waste about Christmas; I won't have it 'round me. There ain't any Santa Claus. Now go to bed every one of you, [Mr. S. continues reading, exit children pretty near crying, enter Santa Claus, appropriately dressed, behind Mr. S. and catches him by one ear.]

Santa Claus. — Good evening, what was you saying about me!

Mr. S. — [Looking around to see who is pulling his ear,] O, Mr. Santa Claus [takes his feet down] I did not know you heard me, I did not mean any harm.

Santa Claus. -- You talk about bad children; you have forgotten old times. Who was so greedy that he was always sick next day after Christmas? What boy took half of his little sister's candies? Who frightened the poor cat with shooting crackers?

Mr. S. — [Dropping his paper,] Please excuse me, good Mr. Santa Claus.

Santa Claus. — You talk about waste! Pray what did those cigars cost on the table! How many Christmas dinners could you buy with your tobacco money that you burn up every day?

Mr. S. — [Putting cigars in his pocket,] O please forgive me, Mr. Santa Claus.

Santa Claus. — No I won't! I intend to put you in my big ink bottle that I keep to write down the names of good childred, and drown you, [lets loose his ear.]

Mr. S. — [Getting down on his knees and holding up his hands] O, my! please don't!

Santa Claus. — I am going to put you up the chimney.

Mr. S. — O, my! please don't, I am too big to get in the stove pipe.

Santa Claus. — You go straight up the stove pipe, I'll take you out on top of the house and let my reindeers trample you to death.

Mr. S. — O, dear, good Mr. Santa Claus! If you will but just let me off, I will be so good. I will never be cross to the children again. I'll do anything for you if you will just forgive me this time.

Santa Claus. — Well, I'll let you off this time. I have a lot of presents here for the children; but you have kept me so long that I must go, I'll leave you to distribute the presents, every one has a name on it, now, do it right or I'll hear about it and I'll not let you off so easy next year. [exit Santa Claus.]

Mr. S. — Goodness, what a lot of presents. Here is one for ———— [calling name on a package and continues the distribution.]

 

Editor's Note:

This text is a verbatim copy of the original.

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