What’s that to say? Oh, the dear hand. Yes, I’ll look after ’em. They shan’t know want--and I won’t go away---- The way I’d wish to go. I’ll bear my life And all the burden of it. There, there, my lass, Rest ye in peace, I’ll do my best by ’em! I’ll do my best. (_He bends and kisses her on the lips. The Snowman makes a pass toward her with his hand. She moves, and opens her eyes, all dazed and dreaming_) JOAN. Who’s that, who’s that got hold o’ me? Let go! I must go to ’im. JASPAR. No, no, bide ’e still. Here’s Jaspar! JOAN. Jaspar! JASPAR. Oh, you be alive! (_He sinks down broken, with his head on her breast. She takes his head in her hands stroking it softly. The Snowman moves slowly to the door, fades through it, and disappears_) JOAN. So you’ve come back, I knew you’d come--some day. What’s this? (_She touches the coat_) JASPAR. My coat. I found you lyin’ there cold, so I put it round yer. But you made no sign--until I thought as yer was dead. JOAN. Dead? Would I leave ’em? Leave my little ’uns? JASPAR. Ah, there you do get home. It’s a true charge. It’s what I done. JOAN. You ’ad the roving blood. You couldn’t ’elp it. JASPAR. It ain’t brought me no joy. JOAN.-- Jaspar, I think you’ve come here in a dream. Put your arms round me and ’old me. Don’t let go. Help me to dream, I’d like for it to last Just one more hour--put your ’ead on my heart. And don’t you speak--don’t speak--I want to dream, You be come back again! I want to dream. (_They lie still in each other’s arms. Dawn light begins to creep in. A sound of sliding snow is heard on the roof, a sharp twittering of birds; down across the window masses of snow fall in soft thunder. There follows a sound of dropping water: the thaw has begun. The outer world grows radiant with light. The doors of the cubby-bed fly open, the two children peep out. A soft but heavy crash of falling snow is heard. It strikes the door._) MARY. Mother, what’s that? Get up, get up, it’s light! (_Jumps out of bed, followed by_ MATTHEW) Oh, come and look! The snow’s all falling--right down off the roof. Look how it’s letting go! MATTHEW. Oh, the snowman. Look at the snowman! Oh! (_Opens door_) MARY. Mother, the snowman’s tumbled in the night. (JOAN _opens her eyes_.) JOAN. Hush, hush, don’t wake ’im. Come ’e and look ’ere. (_The children approach softly, curious and surprised._) MARY. Who is it, mother? JOAN. The snowman, my dear. He’s come to stay. CURTAIN. THE WORLD’S BEST PLAYS By Celebrated European Authors A NEW SERIES OF AMATEUR PLAYS BY THE BEST AUTHORS, ANCIENT AND MODERN, ESPECIALLY TRANSLATED WITH HISTORICAL NOTES, SUGGESTIONS FOR STAGING, Etc., FOR THE USE OF SCHOOLS, COLLEGES, AND DRAMATIC CLUBS BARRETT H. CLARK General Editor