The White Christmas and other Merry Christmas Plays

SCENE: _The Mulligan's front room. Entrances at right and left. Window at rear. At rise of curtain_ MRS. MULLIGAN _is discovered at C., washing clothes in a tub._ BRIDGET HONORA _and_ MATSY _are hanging wet clothes on a line, which runs across the rear of the stage._

MRS. MULLIGAN (_singing to a made-up tune as she washes_).

Oh, give me a nice little home, And plenty of suds in me tub, And I will be happy all day, With me rubby-dub, rubby-dub, dub.

The queen on her golden throne, Will envy me here at me tub, For no one's as jolly as I, With me rubby-dub, rubby-dub, dub.

Sure, what would I do at a dance? Or what would I do at a club? But here in me kitchen I'm queen With me rubby-dub, rubby-dub, dub.

Oh, give me a nice little home, And plenty of suds in me tub, And I will be happy all day, With me rubby-dub, rubby-dub, dub!

Matsy. Maw, don't you think it's most time fer us to be going?

Mrs. Mulligan. Time to be going, is it? Well, I should hope not. Sure, half of the children are not dry yet, and the other half are not dressed. Bridget Honora, darlin', look in the other room and see how they're coming on. (_Exit_ BRIDGET _at R._)

Matsy. I think we ought to be there early, so as we can get a good seat on the front row. I don't want to miss nothing. (_Hangs up a boy's union suit._)

Mrs. Mulligan. True for you, Matsy, and I don't want yeez to be missing anything either. It ain't like as if yeez go to a fine Christmas entertainment ivery night of yer lives. (_Washes._)

Matsy. It's the first one any of us ever went to at all, at all. Do yeez think they be after having moving pictures?

Mrs. Mulligan. Of course not. Not in a Sunday School, Matsy. But belike they'll have a fine, grand Christmas tree with singin' and spaches and fine costumes and prisints for every one. (_Calls off R._) Bridget Honora!

Bridget. (_off R._) Yes, maw?

Mrs. Mulligan. Come here.

_Enter_ BRIDGET _from R._

Bridget. Melissa and Micky Machree have been scrubbed until they shine. They're sitting in the window drying in the sun. Mary Ann is cleaning Peter Pan in the lard bucket, and Patsy is washing Teddy Magee in the rain-barrel. Nora is curling Clarissa's hair with the poker, and somebody's untied the goat.

Mrs. Mulligan. Untied the goat, is it? Matsy Mulligan, put on yer hat at once and see what's become of Shamus O'Brien. He's a good goat, is Shamus, but he's like the late Mr. Mulligan, he has a rovin' disposition and a tremenjous appetite. Hurry now, Matsy.

Matsy. (_whining_) Aw, now, maw, I can't go and hunt the goat. I'm all dressed up for the entertainment. If I go after the goat, sure it's all mussed up I'll be.

Mrs. Mulligan. Yis, if I swat you one wid this wet cloth, it's worse than mussed up you'll be. Hurry after the goat. Niver a step does any Mulligan take from this house tonight until Shamus O'Brien is safe in the kitchen, wid his horns tied to the wash boiler.

Matsy. Sure, I dunno where to look fer him.

Mrs. Mulligan. Go over to Mrs. O'Toole's cabbage garden; like as not ye'll find him there. Sure, Shamus has a fine appetite for cabbages.

Matsy. Don't let 'em start afore I get back. I don't want to miss nothin'. (_Takes cap and exits L._)

Mrs. Mulligan. Now, Bridget Honora, lave off hanging up the clothes and go in and see if Melissa and Micky Machree are dry yet. And if they are call me in and I'll attend to their costumes.

Bridget. Maw, Mary Ann's having an awful time. She's growed so that her skirt and her waist has parted company, and what she'll be after doing I don't know at all, at all.

Mrs. Mulligan. Is there anything she can use as a sash?

Bridget. No'm. Nora and Clarissa have used up all the sashes.

Mrs. Mulligan. (_takes fringed bureau cover from wash-basket_) Look here, now, Bridget Honora, see what I've found in the wash. It's a tidy to go on top of a dresser, but I'm thinking it's just the thing to fill the gap between the skirt and the waist of Mary Ann.

Bridget. Yes, maw. (_Exit R._)

_Enter_ PATSY _from R. He runs in and is very much excited._

Patsy. Oh, maw, maw, come quick! Hurry, or he'll be drowned.

Mrs. Mulligan. What is it, Patsy? Spake quick.

Patsy. It's Teddy Magee. I was givin' him a wash in the rain-barrel, when all of a sudden, bad luck to him, he slipped through me fingers and fell head-first down in the barrel. (_Cries._) Oh, it's drownded dead he'll be. Oh, oh! (_Cries._)

Mrs. Mulligan. Oh, me baby, me baby! (_Rushes out at R._)

_Enter_ NORA _and_ CLARISSA _from L._

Nora. Now sit right down there, Clarissa, and don't be moving a hair, because you're all fixed and ready for the entertainment.

Clarissa. And how do I look, Nora?

Nora. Ye look like a Christmas angel, so you do. Your hair curled just lovely and your striped stockings will be the admiration and envy of the entire Sunday School.

Patsy. Oh, Nora Eudora, come on quick. Teddy Magee fell in the rain-barrel and it's drownded dead he is intirely. (_Cries._)

Nora. In the rain-barrel? How did he get in the rain-barrel?

Patsy. Sure, I was washing him, I was. And he was that slippery with the soap that he slid through me fingers and down to the bottom of the barrel.

Nora. Oh, the poor little Teddy Magee. (_Runs out R., followed by_ PATSY _and_ CLARISSA.)

_Enter_ MARY ANN _and_ PETER PAN _from L._

Mary Ann. And how de yeez like me new sash, Peter Pan?

Mary Ann. It's a tidy cover off'n a bureau, and I don't want to wear it at all, at all. Folks'll be after thinking I'm a bureau. Don't it look funny, Peter Pan?

Mary Ann. I'm not going to wear it, so I'm not.

_Enter_ BRIDGET _from L._

Bridget. Mary Ann Mulligan, and what are yeez trying to do with your nice new sash?

Mary Ann. I ain't going to wear no tidy cover. Folks'll be after thinking I'm a bureau.

Bridget. Sure they'll think worse than that if yeez take it off. That's what comes of yer growing so fast. Yer skirt is fer six years old, and yer waist is fer six years old, and so you have to wear the sash to help out the other two years. Sashes are awful stylish, anyhow. It's pretty, too, ain't it, Peter Pan?

Peter Pan. Scwumptious. _Enter_ MRS. MULLIGAN _from R., followed by_ PASTY _and_ NORA.

Mrs. Mulligan. It's lucky for him that there wasn't any more water in the rain-barrel, or he would have been drownded dead sure. Patsy, yeez had no business to let him drop. Nora, you go out and finish him. Where's Clarissa?

_Enter_ CLARISSA _from R._

Clarissa. Here I am, maw.

Mrs. Mulligan. (_looks her over carefully_) Well, you're all ready. That's one. Nora and Patsy and Matsy are all ready. That makes four. Mary Ann, are you all fixed?

Mary Ann. Yes, mum, but I don't like me sash at all, at all. Folks will all know it's a bureau tidy, it's got fringe and everything.

Mrs. Mulligan. Oh, ho, me fine young lady. I suppose yeez want a peek-a-boo dress all trimmed with mayonnaise ruffles down the bias, do you? It's lucky for you I found that tidy in the wash, so it is. And don't yeez eat too much or breathe hard or ye'll bust it, and then where'll you be at?

Bridget. Maw, Mary Ann's chewing her apron.

Mrs. Mulligan. (_at the wash-tub_) Mary Ann Mulligan, take that apron out'n your mouth. I niver saw such a girl to be always chewing something. It's first yer dress and then yer apron or your petticoat, whatever happens to be your topmost garment. Clothes were not made to chew.

_Enter_ NORA _with_ TEDDY, MELISSA _and_ MICKY, _from L._

Nora. Here they are, maw, all ready for the party.

Mrs. Mulligan. Are ye sure they're all clean?

Nora. I am that. They've been scrubbed until me two arms ache. And Micky's had a bath in the rain-barrel.

Micky. I have that, and I don't want another one, either.

Mrs. Mulligan. All yeez sit down and let me look ye over.

Nora. Have ye finished the washing, maw?

Mrs. Mulligan. For the prisint, yes. I have more important duties to perform. Now, first and foremost, don't walk pigeon-toed. Bridget, have ye got a clane handkerchief?

Bridget. Yis, mum.

Mrs. Mulligan. Well, don't forget to use it if the necessity arises, and you'd better set next to Peter Pan so's he can use it, too. He's been kinder nosey all day, and I shouldn't wonder if he wasn't coming down with a cold in his head. How do you feel, Peter Pan?

Mrs. Mulligan. Micky Machree Mulligan, and what are yeez looking cross-eyed for? Do ye think it improves yer beauty?

Micky. I thought there was a speck of dirt on me nose.

Mrs. Mulligan. Well, there's not, and hold yer head up straight.

Patsy. Maw, ain't it most time to go?

Mrs. Mulligan. It lacks two hours yet of the time, and Matsy ain't come back with the goat. Whatever's become of Shamus O'Brien I'd like to know. Which of yeez seen him last?

Nora. I saw him this mornin'. He was eatin' a tin tomato can down in the alley.

Mrs. Mulligan. The poor thing! Now I suppose I'll have a sick goat on me hands on top of all me other troubles--and tomorrow's Christmas Day.

Bridget. Maw, suppose they won't let us in the Sunday School at all, at all. We don't belong to that Sunday School. What'll we do then?

Mrs. Mulligan. Indade they'll not turn yeez away on Christmas Eve. I chose that Sunday School for yeez to attend because it's the largest and the most fashionable in town. Mrs. Beverly Brewster goes there, and wherever Mrs. Beverly Brewster goes, sure yeez can count on it, it's bound to be most fashionable and select.

Mary Ann. But we never went there before. They'll think it's awfully nervy fer us to come buttin' in at their Christmas entertainment.

Mrs. Mulligan. Niver once will they. They'll welcome yeez with open arms and many Christmas prisints. And whatever yeez get be sure and say, "Thank yeez kindly and much obliged." Can ye do that?

All. Oh, yes, mum.

Mrs. Mulligan. Clarissa, look out'n the door and see if ye see anything of Matsy and the goat.

Clarissa. Yes, mum. (_Goes to door at L._)

Mrs. Mulligan. Mary Ann Mulligan, quit fooling with yer sash. If I've told yer once I've told yer a hundred times it's liable to bust and yer skirt and yer waist ain't on speakin' terms.

Clarissa. (_at door_) Maw, here comes Mrs. O'Toole.

Mrs. Mulligan. It's the goat. He's been filling himself up on the O'Toole cabbages. My, my, that goat'll be the death of me yet.

_Enter_ MRS. O'TOOLE, _limping in from L._

Mrs. O'Toole. Good evening, Mrs. Mulligan.

Mrs. Mulligan. The same to ye, Mrs. O'Toole. Come in and set down.

Mrs. O'Toole. I have no time to set down, and I have no inclination to set down. And it's all on account of yer goat, Shamus O'Brien.

Mrs. Mulligan. Me goat, is it?

Mrs. O'Toole. It is the same, and it's an injured woman I am this night.

Mrs. Mulligan. My, my! I'll have to kill that old goat. He's entirely too obstreperous. And did he chase you, Mrs. O'Toole?

Mrs. O'Toole. Chase me? He did worse than chase me. He caught up with me.

Mrs. Mulligan. And where is he now?

Mrs. O'Toole. Niver a know do I know where he is. I left your boy Matsy chasing him down the alley with a rope.

Mrs. Mulligan. Bridget, go in the far room and get a wee drop of tay for Mrs. O'Toole.

Mrs. O'Toole. I can't drink any tay. I'm that injured I can't drink at all, at all.

Mrs. Mulligan. A drop of tay will warm ye up. Hurry, Bridget.

Bridget. Yis, mum. (_Exits R._)

Mrs. O'Toole. I was out in me cabbage garden picking a bit of cabbage for me owld man's Christmas dinner. I was bending over looking at the cabbage whin all of a sudden I felt meself flying through the air and I landed in the watering trough, so I did. And it was full of water. And I'm almost killed entirely--and it's all the fault of your goat, Mrs. Mulligan.

Mrs. Mulligan. There, now, Kathleen, darlin', sit down and take things easy.

Mrs. O'Toole. I'll not sit down, Mollie Mulligan. Sure I'm thinking I'll be after spindin' the rist of me life standing up on me two fate.

Mrs. Mulligan. So the goat struck ye, did he?

Mrs. O'Toole. He did.

Mrs. Mulligan. My, my, the trouble I've had all along of that Shamus O'Brien. He's an awful goat, is Shamus O'Brien.

_Enter_ BRIDGET _with two cups of tea._

Bridget. Here's the tea, mum.

Mrs. Mulligan. Thank ye kindly, Bridget. Here, Kathleen, take a cup of tay and let it soothe your wounded feelings.

Mrs. O'Toole. Sure, it's more than me feelings that is wounded, Mrs. Mulligan. (_Drinks tea._)

Clarissa. Maw, ain't it time we were starting for the entertainment?

Mrs. Mulligan. My, my, I've been that excited about the misdeeds of that rascal Shamus O'Brien that I had forgotten the Christmas entertainment entirely.

Mrs. O'Toole. Sure, your family looks as though they were going out in society, Mollie Mulligan.

Mrs. Mulligan. They are that. They're on their way to the fine church entertainment at the Sunday School down the strate.

Nora. (_at door L._) Maw, here comes Matsy with the goat. (_Looks out of door._)

Mrs. Mulligan. (_goes to door and speaks off L._) Matsy Mulligan, tie that goat in the back yard and tie all his four fate together. I'll tach him a lesson, if it's the last thing I ever do. Patsy, go out and help your brother tie up Shamus O'Brien. (_Exit_ PATSY _at L._)

Mrs. O'Toole. Nora Eudora, darlin', have ye got a sofy pillow handy. I think if I had a couple of sofy pillows I could set down and enjoy me tay.

Nora. Yis, mum. Here's two of 'em. (_Arranges them in the chair._)

_Enter_ PATSY _and_ MATSY _from L._

Matsy. Come on, all of yeez, or we'll be late for the show. And I don't want to miss nothin'.

Mrs. Mulligan. (_standing at R._) I think yeez are all ready now. Let me see if there's anyone missing. (_Counting and pointing to each in turn._)

There's Patsy and Matsy and Teddy Magee, Nora Eudora and Micky Machree, Bridget Honora and sweet Mary Ann, Melissa, Clarissa and wee Peter Pan.

Patsy. We are all here, maw.

Mrs. Mulligan. Now, yer all ready. Throw out yer heads. Forward, march!

Children. Good-bye, maw.

Mrs. Mulligan. Good-bye, and the Lord love yeez all. Have a good time. Good-bye. (_The children march out at L._)

Mrs. O'Toole. Ten of 'em. I don't see how ye ever manage to make both ends meet, Mollie Mulligan, with ten big, healthy children--to say nothing of the goat, Shamus O'Brien.

Mrs. Mulligan. (_in door waving hand to children_) Good-bye. Have a good time. (_Yells._) Mary Ann, don't let yer sash bust in two! (_Crosses to R. and sinks in chair._)

Mrs. O'Toole. Ye have a fine family, Mrs. Mulligan. Ye have a fine bunch of boys, and ye have a bunch of girls, and ye have a fine bunch of babies; but ye have an awful goat.

Mrs. Mulligan. Shamus O'Brien is the pest of me heart, Kathleen O'Toole; so he is; but he's all that's left of me late husband's property. Michael Mulligan thought the world of that goat, he did.

Mrs. O'Toole. I'm a peaceful woman, Mollie Mulligan, and a calm, neighborly woman; but I don't like goats.

Mrs. Mulligan. I don't blame ye at all, at all, Kathleen. But poor Shamus O'Brien was probably only nosing around fer a bit of Christmas Eve dinner. I'll kape him tied in the future.

Mrs. O'Toole. Sure and it is Christmas Eve, isn't it?

Mrs. Mulligan. Indade it is, and for the sake of the holy eve, I think ye'd best be after forgiving the poor goat and not harbor any ill feeling agin him on Christmas Day.

Mrs. O'Toole. Harbor ill feeling, is it? Faith, then I'll not, Mollie Mulligan, and it's meself that'll be bringing over a big cabbage head on the morning for Shamus O'Brien's Christmas dinner.

Mrs. Mulligan. (_rises_) I'll be after tidying up the house a bit. It's little enough I've got for the children's Christmas tomorrow morning; but at least I can have me house in order and a burning candle shining in the windy. (_Lights candle and sets it on table in front of the window._)

This light shall burn on Christmas Day, For Him who in the manger lay, And all are welcome at my door, The high, the low, the rich, the poor, And every heart shall sing again Of peace on earth, good will to men.

Mrs. O'Toole. (_rises_) Your burning candle takes me back again to the days of me childhood in County Clare. Well do I mind me last Christmas Eve in ould Ireland, the little thatched cabin with its one window, the stinging smoke of the peat fire, the lads and the colleens and the ould piper--and the merry dances and songs, do ye remember, Mollie, darling? (_Puts arms on hips, wags head from side to side and sings briskly_:)

[Music illustration:

1. Did you ev-er go in-to an I-rish-man's shanty, Where mon-ey was scarce but where wel-come was plen-ty? A three-leg-ged stool and a ta-ble to match it, But the door of the shan-ty is al-ways un-latched.

2. Our nate lit-tle house, it looks out on the street, There's two beau-ti-ful rooms and a pig-sty com-plete. Each girl has a dress and each boy has a coat, There's tin hap-py chil-dren, six pigs and a goat.

3. Sure the Mul-li-gans al-ways are hap-py and bright, They sing in the morn-ing, they sing in the night, Now Pat-sy and Mat-sy are strong as can be, But the bil-ly-goat's strong-er than ath-er, you see!

Tee-oo-dle, dum-doo-dle, dum-doo-dle, dum day! Tee-oo-dle, dum-doo-dle, dum-doo-dle, dum day! Tee-oo-dle, dum-doo-dle, dum-doo-dle, dum day! Tee-oo-dle, dum-doo-dle, dum-doo-dle, dum day!]

MRS. O'TOOLE (_sings briskly_):

Did you ever go into an Irishman's shanty, Where money was scarce but where welcome was plenty? A three-legged stool and a table to match it, But the door of the shanty is always unlatched. Tee-oodle, dum-doodle, dum-doodle, dum day!

(_Repeat until end._)

MRS. MULLIGAN (_faces her, assumes same position, sings briskly_):

Our nate little house, it looks out on the street, There's two beautiful rooms and a pig-sty complete. Each girl has a dress and each boy has a coat, There's tin happy children, six pigs and a goat. Tee-oodle, dum-doodle, dum-doodle, dum day!

(_Repeat until end._)

MRS. O'TOOLE (_sings_):

Sure the Mulligans always are happy and bright, They sing in the morning, they sing in the night, Now Patsy and Matsy are strong as can be, But the billy-goat's stronger than ather, you see! Tee-oodle, dum-doodle, dum-doodle, dum day!

(_Repeat until end._)

MRS. O'TOOLE _hums the song faster and begins to jig, by kicking out R. and L. foot alternately, on first three lines and twirling on fourth line._

_At the beginning of the "Tee-oodle,"_ MRS. MULLIGAN _starts in and does exactly as_ MRS. O'TOOLE _did on the first four lines, while_ MRS. O'TOOLE _skips around stage in a circle._

_On the second verse they march forward and back, arms on hips. Forward again. Do-si-do (backs to back). March forward and back and then each twirls alone._ MRS. O'TOOLE _knocks over the table._ MRS. MULLIGAN, _not to be outdone, knocks over the tub. The music becomes faster and faster._

_On third verse they jig alone, then forward and back, forward again and swing each other madly. While they are dancing they shout out occasionally, "Huroo for ould Ireland!" "That's me fine lady!" "Look at me now!" etc._

CURTAIN.