well, thank you, sir. My wife has a slight cold in
one foot, owing to--

MRS. HUBBARD (hastily). A touch of gout, sir, inherited from my
ancestors, the Montmorency-Smythes.

FATHER CHRISTMAS. Dear me, it won't prevent you dancing, I hope?

MRS. HUBBARD. Oh no, sir.

FATHER CHRISTMAS. That's right. We shall have a few more friends
coming in soon. You have been giving each other presents already, I
see. I congratulate you, madam, on your husband's taste.

MRS. HUBBARD (touching her necklace). Oh no, this is a very old
heirloom of the Montmorency-Smythe family.

MR. HUBBARD. An ancestress of Mrs. Hubbard's--a lady-in-waiting at the
Tottenham Court--at the Tudor Court--was fortunate enough to catch the
eye of--er--

MRS. HUBBARD. Elizabeth.

MR. HUBBARD. Queen Elizabeth, and--er--

FATHER CHRISTMAS. I see. You are lucky, madam, to have such beautiful
jewels. (Turning to MR. HUBBARD) And this delightful gold Albert
watch-chain--

MR. HUBBARD. Presented to an ancestor of mine, Sir Humphrey de
Hubbard, at the battle of--er--

MRS. HUBBARD. Agincourt.

MR. HUBBARD. As you say, dear, Agincourt. By King Richard the--I
should say William the--well, by the King.

FATHER CHRISTMAS. How very interesting.

MR. HUBBARD. Yes. My ancestor clove a scurvy knave from the chaps to
the chine. I don't quite know how you do that, but I gather that he
inflicted some sort of a scratch upon his adversary, and the King
rewarded him with this handsome watch-chain.

USHERS (announcing). Mr. Robinson Crusoe! (He comes in.)

FATHER CHRISTMAS. How do you do?

CRUSOE (bowing). I'm a little late, I'm afraid, sir. My raft was
delayed by adverse gales.

(FATHER CHRISTMAS introduces him to the HUBBARDS, who inform him that
the weather is very seasonable.)

USHERS. Miss Riding Hood! (She comes in.)

FATHER CHRISTMAS. How do you do?

RIDING HOOD (curtseying). I hope I am in time, sir. I had to look in
on my grandmother on the way here.

(FATHER CHRISTMAS makes the necessary introductions.)

MRS. HUBBARD (to CRUSOE). Do come and see me, Mr. Crusoe. Any Friday.
I should like your advice about my parrot. He's moulting in all the
wrong places.

MR. HUBBARD (to RED RIDING HOOD). I don't know if you're interested in
wolves at all, Miss Hood. I heard a very good story about one the
other day. (He begins to tell it, but she has hurried away before he
can remember whether it was Thursday or Friday.)

USHERS. Baron Bluebeard! (He comes