If we could only hit upon some trick to play on the bad old
man it would do my bowels good! Can you see if he has left anything
about which he values?
NILLA. Suppose we gnaw the ropes so the bells will tumble down on
his head--
NISSE. Why, Nilla! you know that I have only one poor tooth left in
my head.
NILLA. But I have two--and where there's a will there's--but you,
you have no feeling for your children!
NISSE. Come now! we shan't quarrel on Christmas Eve.
NILLA. Hush! What have we here?
NISSE. A dish of porridge--
NILLA. Which the old man has left--
NISSE. For the elf. He's afraid of him!
NILLA. Now I know! We'll eat up the porridge so--
NISSE. The elf will get after him--
NILLA. And he can raise the mischief when he gets angry. [They are
over by the dish now, and eating.]
NISSE. Oh, move along and make room for me!
NILLA. Hush! It creaks in the stairs.
NISSE. Now I see the bottom of the dish; there's the lump of butter!
NILLA. Help me with this corner.
NISSE. Ah!--now we'll wipe our mouths and run. [They scurry off
left.]
[Elf slides down bell-rope.]
ELF. [Walks about and searches.] Where's my Christmas porridge? I
scented its aroma a long way off. It will taste good to me on a
cold night, like this. I hope he has given me a big lump of butter
this year, since I have been so good to him. [Loosens belt.] There!
get you ready, my stomach. I'll let out two holes in the belt,
which will make it about right. [He sees dish.
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