Betsey—Uncle Sol’s seen old Sandy Claws with his own eyes, ’n he knows. Sandy saved him when he was wrecked in Baffin Bay, ’n he lived with him most six months, till it come Christmuss again.
Aunt Hepsey—Wal, wal! I knew Sol had ben wrecked some two or three hundred times, but I never heered of that time afore.
Betsey—Nor I, till I hed this ere comporishing to write, ’n then he told me. He’d allers kep it a secret afore. (reads) His claws are not on his fingers, but on his toes, ’n when he finds a bad child a-sleepin’ (I mean sleeping with his stocking hanging up by the chimbley), he jest scratches him good ’n hard with them claws o’ his’n, and whops up chimbley again, ’n leaves it hang there empty, less’n he puts in a stick. He brings beautiful things to good girls and boys, and I hope he’ll bring me a diamond necklace this year, or at least a gold chain with a diamond locket. I’ve wished for them every year since I was a child, and although he has not brought them, I haven’t given up hoping yet.—Betsey Euphemia Perkins, aged 12.
There, Teacher, didn’t I say them “ings” good? I never dropped none.
Miss P.—Very good indeed, Betsey, and your composition is certainly original, with your Uncle Sol, at least. (Betsey takes seat.)
Aunt Hepsey—That’ll please Sol—that ere compliment. He doos hate ter have any body doubt his stories—and after all, we’ve never went to sea.
Miss P.—Next is a recitation by Aaron and Mosetta Peaslee.
Aunt Hepsey—What’s the name ont?
Aaron—(as he and his sister come out) Name’s “Aaron and Moses.”
Miss P.—But I told you that wouldn’t do for a piece, and you were to learn another.