(Tiptoe softly off the stage, holding the dolls as though asleep, and humming the tune very faintly.)

* * * * *

Red Pepper.

BY A. CONSTANCE SMEDLEY.

    CHARACTERS.

    Princess Fadeaway.

    Greening, Sweeting, Ladies to the Princess.

    The Kitchenmaid.

    The Cooklet.

    Red Pepper, the scullion (Prince Fairasday).

    Head Cook.

    Frip, Tip, Snip, Pip, Brownies.

    Chorus of Cooks and Brownies, if desired.

    TIME.  Christmas Eve.

SCENE:  The Kitchen in the Castle of Princess Fadeaway.  Open fireplace down R. in which the fire burns, and casts a red light on the scene.  Dresser against wall L. on which stands a pile of dirty plates, tin basin and soap, various culinary utensils, and a huge pepper-pot.  Door up back L. Table centre, which is spread with white cloth, bordered with a quaint design.  An old-fashioned wooden armchair R. of fireplace.  Door up R. Stool by dresser.  Chair behind table.  As the curtain rises, the stage is quite dark, lit by a faint gleam from fireplace.  Mysterious music, which resolves itself into the air of “Whist, whist, whist.  Here Comes the Bogie Man.”  The Brownies heard singing behind the scenes.  They dance in one by one mysteriously round stage, in follow-my-leader fashion, over chair and stool, and crawl under table, round and round room as they sing.

    OPENING CHORUS. (Air:  “Whist, whist, whist!  Here Comes the
    Bogie Man!”)

Brownies: 

  Whist, whist, whist! 
  Here comes the Brownie man! 
  The Christmas pie is made to-night! 
  We’ll steal it if we can. 
  Whist, whist, whist! 
  The scullions will be fled! 
  Oh, what a time we’ll have to-night
  When everyone’s in bed.

(Enter Frip dramatically L.)

Frip: Whist!

Brownies:  Frip! (All prostrate themselves, touching ground with their foreheads.)

Frip:  The deed is done!  The scullions all are packing!

Brownies:  Oh, noble Frip!

Tip:  How did you manage it?

Frip (seating himself on arm of chair.  Brownies sit on floor centre, facing him, sideface to audience): I bellowed so—­Oooooooh!!!! (groans) and tweaked their ugly noses, and whispered through the keyhole, “Wait till you guard the Christmas pie to-night!” until they all fled shivering to the cook, to give him notice!  And now none will be left to guard the pie!

Brownies:  ’Tis ours!  ’Tis ours! (Brownies rub themselves delightedly.)

Frip:  Hush!  Now the kitchenmaid and cooklet come, to make all ready for his highness the head cook!  We must leave them in peace until the pie is made!  But then—­