Omnes. Is that so? Oh! I am so glad.
Santa. Yes, but I don’t want you to be glad. It is very disrespectful in you, to say the least, to be glad at a time like this.
Mrs. C. Why my dear hubby, what is the matter with the time?
Santa. The matter is, my dear, that I am going to leave you presently.
Omnes. Going to leave us?
Kitty. Going to leave us? Why papa, you will be too early for the World’s Fair.
Santa. I am not going to the World’s Fair, daughter. Have you forgotten that this is Christmas Eve, my regular night out?
Mrs. C. Why, so it is; I had forgotten. To-night you go forth to distribute gum-drops, drums and dollies to the children of all Christendom. It is very kind of you my dear, I am sure, and I am sorry that you are compelled to tear yourself away, but you will return to-morrow?
Santa. I am glad that you appreciate me, my dear. Let me advise you to keep a good thing while you have it.
Kitty. Yes, papa is a good man; at least, I suppose he is a good man. Good is a relative term, and men are so scarce in this kingdom of the North Pole, that I cannot judge by comparison.