little bowls, three spoons and a 
great iron porridge pot. A wooden peg to the right of the chimney holds 
Steen's cap and cape, one to the left an old shawl. Near the door 
Holger's cap and cape hang from a third peg. 
Despite its poverty the room is full of beautiful coloring as it lies half 
hidden in deep shadow save where the light of the fire falls on the 
brown of the wood and the warmer shades of the children's garments, 
illuminates their faces and gleams on their bright hair. 
When the curtain is raised Steen is sitting disconsolately on the stool 
near the fire. He is a handsome sturdy little lad of nine or ten, dressed 
in rough but warm garments of a dark red. Holger a slender boy some 
four years older, bends over Steen patting him comfortingly on the 
shoulder. 
There is petulance and revolt in the expression of the younger boy but 
Holger's face is full of a blended character and spirituality that makes 
him beautiful. He is clad like his brother in comfortable but worn jerkin 
and hose of a dark leaf green. His manner to the little boy is full of 
affection, though occasionally he is superior after the manner of big 
brothers. Throughout the play, two moods alternate in Holger, a certain 
grave, half-mystical dreaminess and bubbling through it, the high 
spirits of his natural boyish self. 
HOLGER. Take heart, Steen, perhaps we can go next year. 
STEEN. Next year! Next year I'll be so old I won't want to go. 
HOLGER. Oh, quite old folks go to the Christmas service. Come, let's 
watch the people going down to town. 
STEEN. No. 
HOLGER. The road'll be full, grand folk! (_He crosses to the window_) 
Come watch, Steen. 
STEEN. No! 
HOLGER. (_Looking out_) Why the road's all empty again! 
STEEN. (_In a wailing tone_) Everybody's gone! 
HOLGER. (_Trying to be brave_) They're lighting the cathedral! 
STEEN. I don't care! 
HOLGER. Oh, Steen, come see,--like the stars coming out! 
STEEN. I won't see! Mother said way last summer that we could go
to-night, and now--(_His voice breaks in a sob_) 
HOLGER. She meant it! She didn't know that the grandmother would 
be ill, and she and father'ud have to go to her. Be fair, Steen! 
STEEN. They might let us go alone. "Too little!" Bah! 
HOLGER. (_In a low almost frightened tone_) Steen, come here! 
(_The tone, rather than the words, take_ STEEN quickly to HOLGER'S 
side.) 
STEEN. What? 
HOLGER. (_Pointing out the window_) Look, by the dead pine yonder, 
an old woman facing us, kneeling in the snow, see? praying! 
STEEN. (_In an awed tone_) She's looking at us! 
HOLGER. She's raising her hand to us! 
STEEN. She's beckoning! 
HOLGER. No, she's making the Sign of the Cross. 
(_Both boys drop their heads devoutly._) 
STEEN. Who is she, Holger? 
HOLGER. I don't know. 
STEEN. (_Drawing back from the window and crossing the room to 
the fire_) Oh, Holger, I'm afraid! 
HOLGER. No, no! Look, she has turned away,--she's deeper in the 
shadow,--why, she's gone! (Following STEEN _with all his bright 
courage bubbling high again, and speaks in a bantering tone_) Just 
some old granny going down to town, and thou afraid! 
STEEN. (_Recovering also_) And thou afraid! 
HOLGER. I was not! 
STEEN. (_Derisively_) Oh-h-h-h! 
HOLGER. Well, I was just a little bit afraid--lest she might frighten 
thee. (_Steps are heard outside the house. Both boys start and look 
frightened again_) Hush,--steps--coming here! 
STEEN. (_Backing from the door_) The old woman! 
HOLGER. (_Crosses the room, looks cautiously out of the window, 
then cries joyously_) No,--Uncle Bertel! 
BERTEL. (_Off stage_) Hullo, there,--open, Holger! 
(STEEN and HOLGER _make a dash for the door, fling it open and_ 
BERTEL _enters. He is a jolly robust peasant uncle of early middle life, 
clad in rough gray jerkin and hose, with a dark gray cloak wrapped 
about him. He so radiates cheer that the room seems warmer for his
presence in it. Nothing to be afraid of about him, the children adore 
him._) 
STEEN. (_Clinging to him, happily_) Oh, Uncle, Uncle, Uncle Bertel! 
HOLGER. (Seizing BERTEL _on his other side_) Uncle Bertel, 
welcome! 
BERTEL. (_Tousling their hair and shaking himself loose in pretended 
dismay_) Help, help!--Robbers!--I'm beset!--Gently, youngsters!--(_He 
goes over to the fire and stands warming himself_) Brrrrr! It's cold in 
the forest to-night!--Well, (_He faces them genially_) why am I 
come?--Tell me that! 
STEEN. (_Exultantly_) To take us to the Christmas Service? 
HOLGER. Uncle! How didst thou know we were not going? 
BERTEL. I met a fox--who said-- 
HOLGER. Oh-h!--Thou hast seen mother and father! 
BERTEL. (_Draws the stool nearer the fire and sits, the children 
promptly drop on the floor beside him_) By our Lady, yes!--and 
walking so fast they had only time to throw me a word    
    
		
	
	
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