all in the whole beeg
world who should have a nice-a, beeg-a Christmas, it is the verra poor
leetla children whose mammas and papas haven't got very much money.
But sometimes the good Santa Claus forgets all about the verra poor
leetla children--and that's the mostest saddest thing of all, for they
are the verra ones he should remember. When I get to be a great-a,
beeg, grand-a, reech lady in the golden streets of New York, ah! then
I will buy presents and presents and presents, and I will-a give them
to all the verra poor leetla children in the world. I wonder why it is
that the verra good Santa Claus sometimes forgets the poor leetla
children on-a Christmas Day. He never forgets the reech leetla
children, only those who are verra, verra poor. And that is a sad
misfortune. If I had-a nice-a Christmas present, with many candies and
figs and oranges, I could never rest until I had given something nice
to all the poor leetla children in the city--for that is what makes
the mostest happy Christmas of all.

_Enter_ SERGIUS _from R. quietly. He comes down behind_ ANITA _and
places his hands over her eyes._

SERGIUS. Guess who it is.

ANITA. Sergius!

SERGIUS (_disappointed_). Why, I thought that you would think it was a
goblin.

ANITA. Goblin? What is a goblin, Sergius?

SERGIUS. It's a little, wee bit of a man with a long beard. And they
go around having a good time at night. They are always very active on
the night before Christmas. (_Looks cautiously around._) I shouldn't
be at all surprised if we should see some tonight.

ANITA (_frightened_). Oh, Sergius, will they harm us?

SERGIUS. Not very much. They just like to have a little fun, that's
all. We have lots of them in Russia. And I believe there are some down
here in the steerage.

ANITA (_grasps his arm_). Oh, Sergius! Where are they?

SERGIUS. Well, last night I could not sleep, so I got up and came in
here, and just as I was passing by that barrel (_points to barrel up
L.C. where_ JACK FROST _is concealed_), I thought I heard a noise. It
was like some one rapping on the barrel. Like this. (_Raps on another
barrel._) I thought it was a goblin and I never stopped running until
I was safe in my bunk with the bedclothes around my head.

ANITA. Pooh! I'm not afraid. No leetla goblin man can make-a me
afraid.

SERGIUS. They do wonderful things on Christmas Eve. But come; let us
go to the bottom of the stairs. The ladies and gentlemen are looking
down an