"Do all of you want to go to-morrow morning with Page and me to play Santa Claus to our poor neighbours?" asked Father at supper.
"Yes! Yes!" they chorused.
"I feel bad about all these little nigs who know I bring them the things and so they don't believe in Santa Claus at all. I always think that belief in Santa Claus is one of the perquisites of childhood. Sometimes I have been tempted to dress up and play Santy for them, but I believe they would know me. Docallison is seen too often to have any mystery about him."
"I have it! I have it!" and Dum clapped her hands in glee at the idea that had come to her. "Let's dress Zebedee up and let him go and give the kiddies their things."
"Good!" exclaimed Father. "Will you do it, Tucker?"
"Sure I will, if Page will do something I ask her."
"What?"
"I want you to recite your sonnet that Tweedles tell me you published in Nods and Becks. They have not been able to find their copies in the maelstrom of their trunks. I think from what they say of it, it might inspire me to act Santa Claus with great spirit."
"Sonnet! What sonnet?" asked Father.
"You don't mean you have not shown it to your father!" tweedled the twins.