Mother Hubbard. I see some one coming.
Mother Goose. Why, how do you do, A-Dillar-a-Dollar! Are you always in such good time?
A-Dillar-a-Dollar. I'm afraid not, Mrs. Goose. They call me
Mother Goose. And here comes Mary with her little lamb. Do you like the lamb better than a Teddy Bear, Mary?
Mary. Yes, indeed, I do. Because the lamb loves me, you know.
Mother Goose. Here comes the Old Woman who lives in a shoe, and her two oldest boys. Dear Mrs. Shoe-woman, I am very glad to see you! How did you leave all of your children?
Mrs. Shoe-woman. Oh, dear, Mother Goose! I have so many children I don't know what to do: when they are naughty I give them some broth without any bread, and whip them all soundly and put them to bed.
Mother Goose. Here are all the children coming to the party! Come, children, let us have a dance. All stand around the Maypole as I call your names:
Little Miss Muffet and Boy Blue;
Little Bo-Peep and Jacky Horner;
Nancy Etticoat and Jack-be-nimble;
Mary and the little Boy who lives in the Lane.
All take ribbons and stand around the Maypole. Are you all ready?
Children. Yes, Mother Goose, we are all ready when the music begins.
Mother Goose. Old King Cole, will you have your three fiddlers play for the dance?
King Cole. With pleasure, dear Mother Goose—and I'll sing:
Children (sing).
Mother Goose. These are very good songs, but they will not do for a Maypole dance. Here, Little Tommy Tucker, sing for your supper.
Tommy Tucker. All right, Mother Goose.
Children.
[Dance about the Maypole.]
Mother Goose. Why, who can that man be? He is tumbling down in a very queer way! Who are you?
Man.
Are Jack and Jill here?
Jack. Here I am, Mr. Moon-Man.
Jill. Oh, dear Mr. Moon-Man, where is your dog and your bundle of sticks?
Jack. Tell us what the children play in your country, the Moon!
Children. Please do, Mr. Moon-Man!
Moon-Man. Well, children, I can tell you how they learn to count. They all say—
and then they all pick up sticks and put them on the fire.
Tom. I don't think that is much fun!
Children. Of course you don't. You don't like sticks.
Mistress Mary. Now, children, let us sit in a circle and play games and sing songs. Little Bo-Peep, you may sing your little song first.
Little Bo-Peep.
Children.
Mistress Mary. Now Jack and Jill—
Jack and Jill. Shall we go up the hill to get a pail of water?
Children.
Boys.
Girls.
Mistress Mary. Now, I'll sing a song and then help Mother Goose with the supper. [Sings.]
Mother Goose. Now I must have some children to help me.
Jack Goose. I'll take the bean porridge hot and bean porridge cold, mother, and Tommy Tucker can go with me and pass the white bread and butter.
Mother Goose. That's my good Jack. Now Tom the Piper's Son may take the roast pig and Mary may pass the Banbury cross buns.
Miss Muffet. Dear Mother Goose, may I pass the curds and whey?
Mother Goose. Yes, my dear child, but be careful not to spill any. Then for the last course Jack Horner will pass the Christmas pie and give every child a big fat plum.
Children (sing).
Old King Cole. Mother Goose, you have given us a beautiful party and we have had a lovely time. We hope you will live to give many more to your friends and the children.
Children. Yes, Mother Goose, your party was just lovely!
Mother Goose. Thank you, dear children.
King Cole. Now, little folks, let us sing a good-by song to Mother Goose.
The girls (bowing to King Cole).
The boys (bowing to Mother Goose).
All.
(To Mistress Mary)
Mother Goose. And that story means that night is coming and putting the day to sleep.
King Cole. So it does, and you see the sun is fast going down behind the western hills. Say good-by, children, for it is time to go home.
Children. Good night, Mother Goose.
Mother Goose. Good night, dear children, and don't forget your old Mother Goose.
Children. Forget dear Mother Goose? Never! Good-by, good-by!
Mother Goose. Good-by.
PERSONS IN THE PLAY—Mother, Little One-Eye, Little Two-Eyes, Little Three-Eyes, Little Old Woman, Tree, Prince, Goat
Mother. Come to dinner, little One-Eye and little Three-Eyes. Here is some good soup and white bread for you. Little Two-Eyes, you can have what your sisters do not want.
Little Three-Eyes. Here's a crust for you. That is enough for a girl with only two eyes.
Little One-Eye. What a shame to have a sister with two eyes! You look just like other people! Little Three-Eyes and I are very different.
Little Three-Eyes. Here little Two-Eyes, take this bowl. I don't want any more and you can have what is left.
Mother. Now, children, run away and play. Little Two-Eyes, take the goat and go out to the hillside. You must stay till it begins to get dark, and then you may come home. You must work, because you have two eyes like other people, but my little One-Eye and Three-Eyes may stay at home and play.
Little Two-Eyes. Come, little goat, here is some green grass for you to eat. I wish that my sisters loved me and that my mother was not ashamed of me. Oh, why do I have two eyes just like all other people? I am so hungry, Oh, dear! Oh, dear! (Cries.)
Wood Fairy. My child, why do you cry?
Little Two-Eyes. Because I have only two eyes, and my mother and my sisters treat me badly. I don't have enough to eat and I am so hungry. My dress is old, and my sisters have nice dresses and pretty ribbons. But who are you?
Wood Fairy. I am the little Old Woman who lives on this hill. I have come to help you. Listen, little Two-Eyes! You need never be hungry again. Say to your little goat:
Then a table will rise before you with all the food you can eat. When you have finished eating, you must say:
and it will disappear before your eyes. Good-by, dear little Two-Eyes. I must go now, but remember what I have told you.
Little Two-Eyes. Why, where has that queer looking little woman gone? I am so hungry I'll try now if what she said can be true.
Goat. Bla-a! Bla-a! Bla-a!
Little Two-Eyes. Oh, look, little goat! what a pretty table! and how good the food looks. Now we shall have all we want to eat. Here is something for you, and here are oranges and meat and pudding for me! Dear little woman! How can I thank her? Now I can eat no more.
Goat. Bla-a! Bla-a! Bla-a!
Little Two-Eyes. There, it is gone. Aren't we happy, little goat? But see, it is time to go home. Come, little goat.
Mother. Here, little Two-Eyes, here are the crusts your sisters saved for you.
Two-Eyes. Thank you, mother, but I don't care for any crusts. I'm not hungry.
Mother. Not care for them? You are not hungry? You have always eaten them before now and asked for more! You didn't eat any supper last night, either. What does this mean? What did you have to eat to-day?
Two-Eyes. I cannot tell you, mother.
Mother. You cannot? Then, little One-Eye, you shall go to the hillside with little Two-Eyes and find out why she is no longer hungry.
Little One-Eye. I don't want to go! The walk is too long, and I shall get tired!
Mother. Just this once, my dear! You will not have to go again. But we must learn the secret.
Little Two-Eyes. Come, sister. Come, little goat.
Little Two-Eyes. Now we are almost there. Are you tired, little One-Eye?
Little One-Eye. Oh! I am so tired, and my feet hurt so I can hardly walk.
Little Two-Eyes. I have to walk this far every day.
Little One-Eye. Yes, but you have two eyes like other people and you must expect to work. I cannot go any farther. I'll lie down here and rest.
Little Two-Eyes. I'll sing you a pretty song:
Yes, you are asleep, little One-Eye, and now I can have my dinner.
Goat. Bla-a! Bla-a! Bla-a!
Little Two-Eyes. Here is the little table again! Oh, how thankful I am for the good food. Dear little old woman, you are very good to send me such nice things to eat. Here is some for you, little goat. Now I have had enough.
There, it is gone. Little One-Eye, wake up! It is time to go home.
Little One-Eye. Did I go to sleep?
Little Two-Eyes. Indeed, you did, and now we must hurry home. Come, little goat!
Mother. Well, little One-Eye, tell us what you have seen. Why doesn't little Two-Eyes eat the food we have for her?
Little One-Eye. I don't know, mother. The way was so long and I was so tired; I fell asleep; and when I woke up it was time to come home.
Mother. It was a hard walk for you, my dear; but we must find out who is giving little Two-Eyes something to eat. To-morrow you must go, little Three-Eyes.
Little Three-Eyes. I'll find out, mother. If anyone dares to give food to little Two-Eyes, I'll tell you all about it.
Mother. Yes, my dear, I know you won't go to sleep. I can trust you to find out everything.
Little Two-Eyes. Come, sister, we must go on, for it is a long way to the top of the hill.
Little Three-Eyes. I'm not going any farther, I'm too tired! I'll rest a little here.
Little Two-Eyes. All right, little Three-Eyes. I'll sing you a song.
Yes, you are asleep, and now I'll have my dinner.
Goat. Bla-a! Bla-a! Bla-a!
Little Two-Eyes. Here is our dinner again, little goat. See this fresh lettuce and cabbage and good bread and butter. Here is some honey, too, and cake. Isn't this a good dinner?
Goat. Bla-a, bla-a, bla-a!
Little Two-Eyes. Now it is gone. Three-Eyes, wake up! It is time home.
Little Three-Eyes. How long I have slept! What will my mother say? But I think I have a surprise for you, little Two-Eyes!
Mother. Well, little Three-Eyes, did you go to sleep, too?
Little Three-Eyes.—Yes, mother, but only with two eyes. Little Two-Eyes sang to me,
and so two of my eyes went to sleep, but one stayed awake and watched.
Mother. What did you see? Tell me quickly, dear little Three-Eyes.
Little Three-Eyes. First she said,
and the goat said, "Bla-a, bla-a, bla-a!" Then a table came up out of the ground. Oh! it was such a pretty little table with a white cloth over it and all kinds of good things on it. No wonder little Two-Eyes doesn't eat any of our common food. It isn't good enough for her! She has food fit for a queen,—nuts and cake, and candy, too!
Mother. So that is why little Two-Eyes doesn't eat the crusts we save for her! Well, I'll see if she is going to have better food, than we have. Bring me the long sharp knife.
[Goes out and soon returns.]
There, now the goat is dead. Little Two-Eyes, perhaps you'll eat the food we give you now!
Little Two-Eyes. Oh, my poor little goat! What shall I do without it!
Mother. Go to bed, and to-morrow morning you shall go to the hillside alone. And you must stay there all day, too.
Little Two-Eyes. Oh, dear! Oh, dear! my poor goat is dead! Now I shall be hungry and lonely too! Where shall I go, and what can I do?
Little Wood Fairy. Little Two-Eyes, why are you weeping?
Little Two-Eyes. Because my mother has killed my poor goat, and she has sent me here to stay all alone, and I am so hungry and thirsty again.
Little Wood Fairy. Little Two-Eyes, let me tell you what to do. Ask your sisters to give you the heart of your goat. Bury it in the ground before the house door. Watch, and to-morrow a wonderful tree will come up out of the ground.
Little Two-Eyes. Thank you, dear little woman! I'll go home and do as you have told me.
Little Two-Eyes. Little One-Eye and little Three-Eyes, please let me have the heart of my goat!
One-Eye. Certainly, if that is all you want.
Three-Eyes. Here it is, but I don't see what you want it for!
Little Two-Eyes (goes to door). Now I'll plant it as the little woman told me. I wonder what kind of a tree will appear to-morrow? Poor little goat, I'm so sorry you have gone! Now I must go into the house and try to sleep.
Little One-Eye. Mamma, mamma, look here! Come quickly! Isn't this a wonderful tree!
Mother. Why, how strange! This tree was not here yesterday. I wonder how it came! I never saw such a beautiful tree before!
Little One-Eye. Do you see the golden apples on it? O mamma! may we have some? Please, mother!
Mother. Yes, dear little One-Eye. You are the oldest, climb up into the tree and pick some golden apples for us.
One-Eye. That will be fun. Here I go!
Mother. Why don't you get the apples, little One-Eye?
Little One-Eye. They all get away from me. When I try to pick one it springs back!
Mother. Come down, little One-Eye. Now little Three-Eyes, you can see better with your three eyes, than your sister with her one eye. You may climb up and get some apples for us.
Little Three-Eyes. I'll pick a lot of them and throw them down for you to catch. Why, how funny they act! I almost get one and it always springs away!
Mother. Come down and let me try. I never heard of fruit that would not be picked. Now children, I'll get some of the lovely apples for you. There! Why, what is the matter? I can't reach a single apple.
Little Two-Eyes. Let me try; perhaps I can pick some.
Mother. You, with your two eyes! How can you expect to get them if we can't?
Little Two-Eyes. Please let me try, mother.
Mother. Well, I suppose you can try, but I know you can't get them.
Two-Eyes. Here they are. Catch them, mother; catch them, little One-Eye! Oh, mother! I see a young man on horseback coming along the road. He looks like a prince.
Mother. Hurry down, little Two-Eyes! He must not see you,—a girl with two eyes! I'm ashamed of you. Hide under this barrel!
[The prince rides up.]
Prince. Good morning, ladies, what a lovely tree you have here! She who gives me a branch shall have whatever she wishes.
Little One-Eye. The tree is ours, Great Prince; but when we try to get its fruit, it slips away from us.
Prince. It is strange, if the tree belongs to you, that you cannot get the fruit! But where do these apples come from?
Little Three-Eyes. We have another sister, but she has only two eyes and we are ashamed of her; so we hid her under this barrel, and she has rolled the apples out to you.
Prince. Little Two-Eyes, come out. Can you get me a branch from this wonderful tree?
Little Two-Eyes. Yes, Prince; here is a branch with many golden apples on it.
Prince. And what is your wish, little Two-Eyes?
Little Two-Eyes. O Prince! My mother and my sisters are ashamed of me and do not treat me well. They do not give me enough to eat and they do not like to have me near them. Please take me away where I can be happy and free!
Prince. Come with me, little Two-Eyes; you shall go to my father's palace and be a little princess. There you will be happy and free and never be hungry or lonely again.
THE WEEK—Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday
Monday. Well, I am glad to be here at last. Certainly my work is very important. As the first working day of the week, I begin all business; and I have always heard that if a thing is well begun, it is half done. People call me Moon-day—isn't that a pretty name, the day of the moon? How beautiful the moon is, riding in her silver chariot across the dark blue sky! I am proud of my name. The moon is constantly changing and I like change. I like brightness and cleanliness too, and good housewives wash their clothes on Monday. How white and clean they look hanging on the line! The sun and wind play hide and seek and help to cleanse the clothes. School begins on Monday and the little children run and laugh on their way to school. Every one seems happy that another week has begun.
Tuesday. I am named for Tui, the god of war. In the countries of the north I am greatly honored by all the people. Soldiers when going to war call on Tui for help, and they like to begin a battle on Tuesday. Monday likes to begin work, but I like to make some progress. The children always know their lessons better on Tuesday, and are happier than on Monday. The white clothes are sprinkled and rolled, and now the maids iron the pretty baby dresses and the house linen. They sing and laugh over their work. The world is all running smoothly on Tuesday, and I think I like my work the best.
Wednesday. I should be the best of days, for I am named for Woden, or Odin, the king of the gods. The hardest work of the week is finished when I come, and there is time for a rest. Perhaps mother will bake a special cake for dinner. To-day the children take their music lessons, and the boys go for a lesson in swimming or gymnastic exercise. This is the day young people choose for their wedding day, and you don't know how glad I am to be a part of their happiness. I believe I have more sunshine than the other days, for Woden likes to have clear skies and health-giving breezes. I would not change with any of my sister days.
Thursday. I bring the thunder and the lightning, and I cleave the dark clouds with my rapid flashes. I glory in a storm, for Thor, the god of thunder, has chosen me for his day, and I bear his name. A life of ease and quiet has no charms for me. I like the din and crash of war, the noise and hurry of business. The fury of the heavens, the crash of falling trees, the roaring of waters,—what can give greater pleasure? Business thrives on Thursday. Men rush to and fro, buying and selling, building great houses, digging in the mines, and sailing the seas. Life and action are my delight. Hurrah for Thor's day!
Friday. After the bustle and work of the week I come to clean and settle all disturbances. Now dirt and dust must disappear under the broom and brush. How the windows shine and how spotless is the hearth! Children rake up the leaves and burn them; all rubbish must be cleared away. Order and neatness I love; and so does Freya, for whom I am named. She is the goddess of beauty, and there is no beauty where neatness and order are absent. Some say that I am an unlucky day, but that is a mistake. See what wonderful things have happened on my day, what great men have been born on Friday! I am the last school day of the week, and to-day the children may forget lessons and play outdoors a little longer. To-day the family gather for a story at the twilight hour, and all is rest and happiness.