k!

MR. HUBBARD (whistling with surprise). Father Christmas! An invitation
to Court! (Reading) "Father Christmas at Home, 25th December.
Jollifications, 11.59 P.M." My love, he has found us at last! (They
embrace each other.)

MRS. HUBBARD. Henry, how gratifying!

MR. HUBBARD. Yes. (Sadly, after a pause) But we can't go.

MRS. HUBBARD (sadly). No, I have no clothes.

MR. HUBBARD. Nor I.

MRS. HUBBARD. How can I possibly go without a diamond necklace? None
of the Montmorency-Smythe women has ever been to Court without a
diamond necklace.

MR. HUBBARD. The Hubbards are a proud race. No male Hubbard would
dream of appearing at Court without a gentleman's gold Albert
watch-chain. . . . Besides, there is another thing. There will be many
footmen at Father Christmas's Court, who will doubtless require
coppers pressed into their palms. My honour would be seriously
affected, were I compelled to whisper to them that I had no coppers.

MRS. HUBBARD. It is very unfortunate. Father Christmas may have
hundreds of presents waiting for us.

MR. HUBBARD. True. But how would it be to hang up our stockings again
this evening--now that we know he knows we are here? I would suggest
tied on to the door-knocker, to save him the trouble of coming down
the chimney.

MRS. HUBBARD (excitedly). Henry, I wonder! But of course we will.

(They begin to take off--the one a sock, the other a stocking.)

MR. HUBBARD. I almost wish now that my last suit had been a
knickerbocker one. However, we must do what we can with a sock.

MRS. HUBBARD (holding up her stocking and looking at it a little
anxiously). I hope Father Christmas won't give me a bicycle. A
stocking never sets so well after it has had a bicycle in it.

MR. HUBBARD (taking it from her). Now, dear, I will go down and put
them in position. Let us hope that fortune will be kind to us.

MRS. HUBBARD. Let us hope so, darling. And quickly. For (picking up
her page of the magazine) it is a trifle cold.

[He goes out and she is left reading.

SCENE II.--Outside the house the snow lies deep. The stocking and sock
are tied on to the door-knocker. There is a light in the window.

A party of carol-singers, with lanterns, come by and halt in the snow
outside the house.

PETER ABLEWAYS. Friends, are we all assembled?

JONAS HUMPHREY. Ay, ay, Peter Ableways, assembled and met together in
a congregation, for the purpose of lifting up our voices in joyous
thanksgiving, videl