Bogie Man!")

_Brownies_:

Whist, whist, whist!
Here comes the Brownie man!
The Christmas pie is made to-night!
We'll steal it if we can.
Whist, whist, whist!
The scullions will be fled!
Oh, what a time we'll have to-night
When everyone's in bed.

_(Enter Frip dramatically L.)_

_Frip:_ Whist!

_Brownies_: Frip! _(All prostrate themselves, touching ground with
their foreheads_.)

_Frip_: The deed is done! The scullions all are packing!

_Brownies_: Oh, noble Frip!

_Tip_: How did you manage it?

_Frip (seating himself on arm of chair. Brownies sit on floor centre,
facing him, sideface to audience):_ I bellowed so--Oooooooh!!!!
_(groans)_ and tweaked their ugly noses, and whispered through the
keyhole, "Wait till you guard the Christmas pie to-night!" until they
all fled shivering to the cook, to give him notice! And now none will
be left to guard the pie!

_Brownies_: 'Tis ours! 'Tis ours! _(Brownies rub themselves
delightedly.)_

_Frip_: Hush! Now the kitchenmaid and cooklet come, to make all ready
for his highness the head cook! We must leave them in peace until the
pie is made! But then--

_Brownies_: We'll steal it! _(Singing.)_

Whist, whist, whist!
Here comes the Brownie man,
The Christmas pie is made to-night
We'll steal it if we can!
Whist, whist, whist!
The scullions will be fled!
Oh! what a time we'll have to-night
When everyone's in bed!

_(They dance off_ R. _Music changes to a bright march. Enter the
Kitchenmaid and Cooklet. The Kitchenmaid is a short, fat, rosy, brisk
little girl. The Cooklet is a lanky, lazy, sentimental-looking girl.
The Kitchenmaid carries pasteboard, with pie-disk, rolling-pin, basin
of pastry, mince meat, etc., and enters staggering under her burden.
The Cooklet carries a small basin with three apples and a knife, and
eats apples as she peels them.)_

_Kitchen_: Oh, my eye and Betty Martin! What a pie we're going to make
to-night! Now look sharp, Cooklet, and peel the apples, for the head
cook will be here in half a minute, and the Princess, too, to give the
final stir-about; and if things aren't ready for her, we shall have
our heads chopped off. Oh, dearie, dearie, dearie, dear! _(Takes
apples from Cooklet and peels them briskly.)_

_Cooklet (sitting on stool, yawning)_: Ah, it's all very well for the
Princess! Nothing to do but eat and sleep all day. I wish I were she!

_Kitchen_: My word! I thank my stars