Pa—Now, Ma, don’t go and call yourself names. You’re simply tired out working yourself to death for these youngsters and—
Ma—There’s that old Persian Lamb coat I got before I was married. I’ll make muffs and capes out of it for Jennie and Betty. It’s moth-eaten in spots, but there’s plenty good fur left and Minerva can help me make them. And—and—for Minerva I’ll (rubs head) oh, I know, I’ll make Minerva a party dress out of my white silk wedding dress. I ain’t never worn it much, and it’s almost as good as new.
Pa—Not your wedding dress! You ain’t goin’ to cut that up!
Ma—Why ain’t I? Laws-a-me, I can’t wear it anymore. It wouldn’t come within five inches of meeting round the waist, and it’s too old fashioned for Minerva to wear the way it is.
Pa—But your wedding dress, the dress you wore when we two was made one, and you lookin’ like an angel straight out of heaven in it. Oh, I couldn’t bear to see that cut up.
Ma—Now, Pa, don’t you go and talk nonsense. I didn’t know you had that much sentiment in you. To tell the truth I hate to have it cut up myself, but when it comes to making that dear child happy I’d give her my head on a charger if it would do her any good.
Pa—Who’s talkin’ nonsense now? Well, since you’ve got the girls fixed up I guess I’ll have to think up something for the boys. Blest if I know what I can give them (scratches head).
Ma—It’s awful hard planning for boys. They ain’t so easy pleased as girls with fixed over things. They’re more for animals and such like.
Pa—There you’ve got it, Ma! I’ll give Sam that little black colt all for his own. He’s just crazy about it and Bill—let’s see—what can I give—Oh yes, there’s that Jersey heifer that’s goin’ to be a sure-enough winner some day—I’ll give him that. Then there’s Bobby, what in the dickens can I give that tyke. He’s too young—
Ma (at door)—Hush, I hear him coming.