Hoodoo McFiggin's Christmas
Drama
Speaking Of Christmas
Plays For Readers' Theater
Cast
Narrator
Hoodoo McFiggin
(Narrator stands, Hoodoo is sitting)
Narrator: This Santa Claus business is played out. It's a sneaking, underhanded method, and the sooner it's exposed, the better. I had a good opportunity of observing how the thing worked this Christmas, in the case of young Hoodoo McFiggin.
Hoodoo McFiggin is a good boy, a religious boy. He had been given to understand that Santa Claus would bring nothing to his father and mother because grown-up people don't get presents from the angels. So, he saved up all his pocket money and bought a box of cigars for his father and a 75-cent diamond brooch for his mother. His own fortunes, he left in the hands of the angels. But he prayed. He prayed every night for weeks that Santa Claus would bring him
Hoodoo: a pair of skates and a puppy-dog and an air-gun and a bicycle and a Noah's ark and a sleigh and a drum --
Narrator: altogether, about $150 worth of stuff. I peeked into Hoodoo's room quite early Christmas morning. I had an idea that the scene would be interesting. He sat up in bed, his eyes glistening with radiant expectation, and began hauling things out of his stocking.
The first parcel was bulky; it was done up quite loosely and had an odd look generally.
Hoodoo: Ha! Ha!
Narrator: Hoodoo cried gleefully, as he began undoing it.
Hoodoo: I'll bet it's the puppy-dog, all wrapped up in paper!
Narrator: And was it the puppy-dog? No, by no means, it was a ... pair of nice, strong, size-four boots, laces and all, labeled,
Hoodoo: To Hoodoo, from Santa Claus.
Narrator: The boy's jaw fell with delight.
Hoodoo: It's boots,
Narrator: he said, and plunged in his hand again. He began hauling away at another parcel with renewed hope on his face. This time the thing seemed like a little round box. Hoodoo tore the paper off it with a feverish hand. He shook it; something rattled inside.
Hoodoo: It's a watch and chain! It's a watch and chain!
Narrator: he shouted. Then he pulled the lid off. And was it a watch and chain? No. It was a box of nice, brand-new ... celluloid collars,
Hoodoo: a dozen of them all alike,
Narrator: and all his own size. The boy was so pleased that you could see his face crack up with pleasure. He waited a few minutes until his intense joy subsided. Then he tried again. This time, the package was long and hard. It resisted the touch and had a sort of funnel shape.
Hoodoo: It's a toy pistol!
Narrator: said the boy, trembling with excitement.
Hoodoo: Gee! I hope there are lots of caps with it! I'll fire some off now and wake up father.
Narrator: No, my poor child, you will not wake your father with that. It is a useful thing, but it needs no caps and it fires no bullets, and you cannot wake a sleeping man with ... a toothbrush. Yes, it was a toothbrush, a regular beauty, pure bone all through, and ticketed with a little paper,
Hoodoo: To Hoodoo, from Santa Claus.
Narrator: Again, the expression of intense joy passed over the boy's face, and the tears of gratitude started from this eyes. He wiped them away with his toothbrush and passed on. The next packet was much larger and evidently contained something soft and bulky. It had been too long to go into the stocking and was tied outside.
Hoodoo: I wonder what this is,
Narrator: Hoodoo mused, half afraid to open it. Then his heart gave a great leap, and he forgot all his other presents in the anticipation of this one.
Hoodoo: It's the drum! It's the drum, all wrapped up!
Narrator: Drum nothing! It was ... pants -- a pair of the nicest little short pants -- yellowish-brown short pants -- with dear little stripes of color running across both ways, and here again, Santa Claus had written,
Hoodoo: To Hoodoo, from Santa Claus.
Narrator: But, there was something wrapped up in it. Oh, yes! There was a pair of suspenders wrapped up in it; suspenders with a little steel sliding thing so that you could slide your pants up to your neck, if you wanted to. The boy gave a dry sob of satisfaction. Then he took out his last present.
Hoodoo: It's a book,
Narrator: he said, as he unwrapped it.
Hoodoo: I wonder if it is fairy stories or adventures. Oh, I hope it's adventures! I'll read it all morning.
Narrator: No, Hoodoo, it was not precisely adventures. It was a small ... family Bible. Hoodoo had now seen all his presents, and he arose and dressed. But he still had the fun of playing with his toys.
Hoodoo: That is always the chief delight of Christmas morning.
Narrator: First, he played with his toothbrush. He got a whole lot of water and brushed all his teeth with it. This was huge. Then, he played with his collars. He had no end of fun with them, taking them all out, one-by-one, and swearing at them, and then putting them back and swearing at the whole lot together.
The next toy was his pants. He had immense fun there, putting them on and taking them off again, and then trying to guess which side was which by merely looking at them.
After that he took his book and read some adventures
Hoodoo: called "Genesis"
Narrator: until breakfast time. Then he went downstairs and kissed his father and mother. His father was smoking a cigar, and his mother had her new brooch on. Hoodoo's face was thoughtful, and a light seemed to have broken in upon his mind. Indeed, I think it altogether likely that next Christmas ...
Hoodoo: I will hang onto my money ... and take my chances with what the angels bring.
The End
Source: "Hoodoo McFiggin's Christmas" by Stephen Leacock (1869-1944) is from his collection, Literary Lapses, New York: McClelland and Stewart, 1910.
Narrator
Hoodoo McFiggin
(Narrator stands, Hoodoo is sitting)
Narrator: This Santa Claus business is played out. It's a sneaking, underhanded method, and the sooner it's exposed, the better. I had a good opportunity of observing how the thing worked this Christmas, in the case of young Hoodoo McFiggin.
Hoodoo McFiggin is a good boy, a religious boy. He had been given to understand that Santa Claus would bring nothing to his father and mother because grown-up people don't get presents from the angels. So, he saved up all his pocket money and bought a box of cigars for his father and a 75-cent diamond brooch for his mother. His own fortunes, he left in the hands of the angels. But he prayed. He prayed every night for weeks that Santa Claus would bring him
Hoodoo: a pair of skates and a puppy-dog and an air-gun and a bicycle and a Noah's ark and a sleigh and a drum --
Narrator: altogether, about $150 worth of stuff. I peeked into Hoodoo's room quite early Christmas morning. I had an idea that the scene would be interesting. He sat up in bed, his eyes glistening with radiant expectation, and began hauling things out of his stocking.
The first parcel was bulky; it was done up quite loosely and had an odd look generally.
Hoodoo: Ha! Ha!
Narrator: Hoodoo cried gleefully, as he began undoing it.
Hoodoo: I'll bet it's the puppy-dog, all wrapped up in paper!
Narrator: And was it the puppy-dog? No, by no means, it was a ... pair of nice, strong, size-four boots, laces and all, labeled,
Hoodoo: To Hoodoo, from Santa Claus.
Narrator: The boy's jaw fell with delight.
Hoodoo: It's boots,
Narrator: he said, and plunged in his hand again. He began hauling away at another parcel with renewed hope on his face. This time the thing seemed like a little round box. Hoodoo tore the paper off it with a feverish hand. He shook it; something rattled inside.
Hoodoo: It's a watch and chain! It's a watch and chain!
Narrator: he shouted. Then he pulled the lid off. And was it a watch and chain? No. It was a box of nice, brand-new ... celluloid collars,
Hoodoo: a dozen of them all alike,
Narrator: and all his own size. The boy was so pleased that you could see his face crack up with pleasure. He waited a few minutes until his intense joy subsided. Then he tried again. This time, the package was long and hard. It resisted the touch and had a sort of funnel shape.
Hoodoo: It's a toy pistol!
Narrator: said the boy, trembling with excitement.
Hoodoo: Gee! I hope there are lots of caps with it! I'll fire some off now and wake up father.
Narrator: No, my poor child, you will not wake your father with that. It is a useful thing, but it needs no caps and it fires no bullets, and you cannot wake a sleeping man with ... a toothbrush. Yes, it was a toothbrush, a regular beauty, pure bone all through, and ticketed with a little paper,
Hoodoo: To Hoodoo, from Santa Claus.
Narrator: Again, the expression of intense joy passed over the boy's face, and the tears of gratitude started from this eyes. He wiped them away with his toothbrush and passed on. The next packet was much larger and evidently contained something soft and bulky. It had been too long to go into the stocking and was tied outside.
Hoodoo: I wonder what this is,
Narrator: Hoodoo mused, half afraid to open it. Then his heart gave a great leap, and he forgot all his other presents in the anticipation of this one.
Hoodoo: It's the drum! It's the drum, all wrapped up!
Narrator: Drum nothing! It was ... pants -- a pair of the nicest little short pants -- yellowish-brown short pants -- with dear little stripes of color running across both ways, and here again, Santa Claus had written,
Hoodoo: To Hoodoo, from Santa Claus.
Narrator: But, there was something wrapped up in it. Oh, yes! There was a pair of suspenders wrapped up in it; suspenders with a little steel sliding thing so that you could slide your pants up to your neck, if you wanted to. The boy gave a dry sob of satisfaction. Then he took out his last present.
Hoodoo: It's a book,
Narrator: he said, as he unwrapped it.
Hoodoo: I wonder if it is fairy stories or adventures. Oh, I hope it's adventures! I'll read it all morning.
Narrator: No, Hoodoo, it was not precisely adventures. It was a small ... family Bible. Hoodoo had now seen all his presents, and he arose and dressed. But he still had the fun of playing with his toys.
Hoodoo: That is always the chief delight of Christmas morning.
Narrator: First, he played with his toothbrush. He got a whole lot of water and brushed all his teeth with it. This was huge. Then, he played with his collars. He had no end of fun with them, taking them all out, one-by-one, and swearing at them, and then putting them back and swearing at the whole lot together.
The next toy was his pants. He had immense fun there, putting them on and taking them off again, and then trying to guess which side was which by merely looking at them.
After that he took his book and read some adventures
Hoodoo: called "Genesis"
Narrator: until breakfast time. Then he went downstairs and kissed his father and mother. His father was smoking a cigar, and his mother had her new brooch on. Hoodoo's face was thoughtful, and a light seemed to have broken in upon his mind. Indeed, I think it altogether likely that next Christmas ...
Hoodoo: I will hang onto my money ... and take my chances with what the angels bring.
The End
Source: "Hoodoo McFiggin's Christmas" by Stephen Leacock (1869-1944) is from his collection, Literary Lapses, New York: McClelland and Stewart, 1910.
