Child. I only want one thing, mother dear, and Santa Claus can’t give me that, nor anyone else.
Mother. Are you very sure, dear? Santa Claus can do wonderful things, you know.
Child. I’m very sure, motherkin. And if I can’t have that, I don’t care about Christmas.
Mother. Why, my little Mary? Tell me about it, dear. Possibly I can arrange it, for I want to have you happy more than anything else in the world, especially at Christmas time. Tell me.
Child. You won’t laugh at me?
Mother. No, dear; I won’t even think a laugh.
Child. Well, then, I want to be grown-up and have you a little girl.
Mother. Why, Mary, Mary!
Child. Now you are laughing at me.