_Fountain_, going on thoughtfully: "It's the cap-sheaf of the social barbarism we live in, the hideous hypocrisy. It's no use to put it on religion. The Jews keep Christmas, too, and we know what they think of Christianity as a belief. No, we've got to go further back, to the Pagan Saturnalia-- Well, I renounce the whole affair, here and now. I'm going to spend the rest of the night bundling these things up, and to-morrow I'm going to spend the day in a taxi, going round and giving them back to the fools that sent them."

_Mrs. Fountain_: "And I'm going with you. I hate it as much as you do-- Come in, Maggie!"

XI

MAGGIE, MRS. FOUNTAIN, FOUNTAIN

_Maggie_: "Something the elevator-boy says he forgot. It came along with the last one."

_Mrs. Fountain_, taking a bundle from her: "If this is another bath-robe, Clarence! It _is_, as I live. Now if it is a woman sending it--" She picks up a card which falls out of the robe as she unfolds it. "'Love the Giver,' indeed! Now, Clarence, I insist, I demand--"

_Fountain_: "Hold on, hold on, my dear. The last bath-robe that came from a woman was for _you_."

_Mrs. Fountain_: "So it was. I don't know what I was thinking about; and I do beg your par-- But this is a man's bath-robe!"

_Fountain_, taking the card which she mechanically stretches out to him: "And a man sends it--old Fellows. Can't you read print? Ambrose J. Fellows, and a message in writing: 'It was a toss-up between this and a cigar-case, and the bath-robe won. Hope you haven't got any other thoughtful friends.'"

_Mrs. Fountain_: "Oh, very brilliant, giving me a start like this! I shall let Mr. Fellows know-- What is it, Maggie? Open the door, please."

_Maggie_, opening: "It's just a District Messenger."

_Fountain_, ironically: "Oh, only a District Messenger." He signs the messenger's slip, while his wife receives from Maggie a bundle which she regards with suspicion.

XII

MRS. FOUNTAIN, FOUNTAIN

_Mrs. Fountain_: "'From Uncle Philip for Clarence.' Well, Uncle Philip, if you have sent Clarence-- _Clarence!_" breaking into a whimper: "It is, it is! It's another."

_Fountain_: "Well, that only makes the seventh, and just enough for every day in the week. It's quite my ideal. Now, if there's nothing about a cigar-case-- h.e.l.lo!" He feels in the pocket of the robe and brings out a cigar-case, from which a slip of paper falls: "'Couldn't make up my mind between them, so send both. Uncle Phil.' Well, this is the last stroke of Christmas insanity."

_Mrs. Fountain_: "His brain simply reeled under it, and gave way. It shows what Christmas really comes to with a man of strong intellect like Uncle Phil."

_Fountain_, opening the case: "Oh, I don't know! He's put some cigars in here--in a lucid interval, probably. There's hope yet."

_Mrs. Fountain_, in despair: "No, Clarence, there's no hope. Don't flatter yourself. The only way is to bundle back all their presents and never, never, never give or receive another one. Come! Let's begin tying them up at once; it will take us the rest of the night." A knock at the door. "Come, Maggie."

XIII

JIM AND SUSY, MRS. FOUNTAIN, FOUNTAIN

_Jim and Susy_, pushing in: "We can't sleep, mother. May we have a pillow fight to keep us amused till we're drowsy?"

_Mrs. Fountain_, desolately: "Yes, go and have your pillow fight. It doesn't matter now. We're sending the presents all back, anyway." She begins frantically wrapping some of the things up.

_Susy_: "Oh, father, are you sending them back?"

_Jim_: "She's just making believe. Isn't she, father?"

_Fountain_: "Well, I'm not so sure of that. If she doesn't do it, I will."

_Mrs. Fountain_, desisting: "Will you go right back to bed?"

_Jim and Susy_: "Yes, we will."

_Mrs. Fountain_: "And to sleep, instantly?"

_Jim and Susy_, in succession: "We won't keep awake a minute longer."

_Mrs. Fountain_: "Very well, then, we'll see. Now be off with you." As they put their heads together and go out laughing: "And remember, if you come here another single time, back go every one of the presents."

_Fountain_: "As soon as ever Santa Claus can find a moment for it."

_Jim_, derisively: "Oh, yes, Santa Claus!"

_Susy_: "I guess if you wait for Santa Claus to take them back!"

XIV

MRS. FOUNTAIN, FOUNTAIN

_Mrs. Fountain_: "Tiresome little wretches. Of course we can't expect them to keep up the self-deception."

_Fountain_: "They'll grow to another. When they're men and women they'll pretend that Christmas is delightful, and go round giving people the presents that they've worn their lives out in buying and getting together. And they'll work themselves up into the notion that they are really enjoying it, when they know at the bottom of their souls that they loathe the whole job."

_Mrs. Fountain_: "There you are with your pessimism again! And I had just begun to feel cheerful about it!"

_Fountain_: "Since when? Since I proposed sending this rubbish back to the givers with our curse?"

_Mrs. Fountain_: "No, I was thinking what fun it would be if we could get up a sort of Christmas game, and do it just among relations and intimate friends."

_Fountain_: "Ah, I wish you luck of it. Then the thing would begin to have some reality, and just as in proportion as people had the worst feelings in giving the presents, their best feeling would be hurt in getting them back."

_Mrs. Fountain_: "Then why did you ever think of it?"

_Fountain_: "To keep from going mad. Come, let's go on with this job of sorting the presents, and putting them in the stockings and hanging them up on the tree and laying them round the trunk of it. One thing: it's for the last time. As soon as Christmas week is over, I shall inaugurate an educational campaign against the whole Christmas superst.i.tion. It must be extirpated root and branch, and the extirpation must begin in the minds of the children; we old fools are hopeless; we must die in it; but the children can be saved. We must organize and make a house-to-house fight; and I'll begin in our own house. To-morrow, as soon as the children have made themselves thoroughly sick with candy and cake and midday dinner, I will appeal to their reason, and get them to agree to drop it; to sign the Anti-Christmas pledge; to--"

_Mrs. Fountain_: "Clarence! I have an idea."

_Fountain_: "Not a _bright_ one?"

_Mrs. Fountain_: "Yes, a bright one, even if you didn't originate it.

Have Christmas confined entirely to children--to the very youngest--to children that believe firmly in Santa Claus."

_Fountain_: "Oh, h.e.l.lo! Wouldn't that leave Jim and Susy out? I couldn't have _them_ left out."