“Is it a—a—Is it a horse and buggy?”
“Aw, now, you're foolin'. No, it ain't a horse and buggy.”
“I know what it is. It's a dolly with real hair that you can comb, and all dressed up in a blue dress. One that can shut its eyes when it goes bye-bye.”
Little Mary Ellen looks at him very seriously a minute, and sighs, and says: “No, it ain't that. But if it was, wouldn't you let me play with it when you was to the store?” And he catches her up in his arms and says: “You betchy! Now, I ain't goin' to guess any more! I want to be surprised. You jump down an' run an' ask Ma if supper ain't most ready. Tell her I'm as hungry as a hound pup.”
He hears her deliver the message, and also the word her mother sends back: “Tell him to hold his horses. It 'll be ready in a minute.”
“It will, eh? Well, I can't wait a minute, an' I'm goin' to take a hog-bite right out of YOU!” and he snarls and bites her right in the middle of her stomach, and if there is anything more ticklesome than that, it hasn't been heard of yet.
After supper, little Eddie Allgire teases his brother D. to tell him about Santa Claus. D. is cracking walnuts on a flat-iron held between his knees.
“Is they any Santy Claus, D.?”
“W'y, cert, they is. Who says not?”
“Bunty Rogers says they ain't no sech a person.”