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, kne