Dot. Maybe nobody does.
Daisy. Oh, yes! He must have somebody to make his fires, and cook his meals, and darn his socks.
Dot. Why, he doesn't wear socks. Don't you know, he's all dressed in fur in the pictures. But perhaps fur wears out and has to be mended. I'd like to help her do it.
Daisy. Perhaps she's a real cross, ugly woman, and scolds him when he stays out too long filling stockings, and doesn't give him enough sugar in his tea, and never lets him have but one cup!
Dot [shaking her head]. Poor Santa Claus! Aren't you sorry for him, Daisy? I am. [Daisy nods.] Daisy, if he hasn't any little children, I don't suppose anybody ever gives him any Christmas presents?
Daisy [pityingly]. No, I don't suppose anyone ever does.
Dot [excitedly]. Oh, Daisy, let's us give him a present this year!
Daisy. Oh, how splendid! Of course we will. But what do you think he would like?
Dot. Let's think. He travels all the time. Perhaps he would like a comb and brush case.
Daisy. Dot! You don't suppose he can ever comb out all that hair! It's a great deal too thick and snarly. He doesn't use a comb and brush.