Feel? answers SANTA CLAUS, moving more and more briskly. I feel as young as a snow flake; I feel as strong as a northeast blizzard. Quick, Mrs. Santa Claus, bring me my fur cap and gloves. There's time yet to fill the children's stockings.
While Mrs. Santa Claus is out of the room, JACK says: Santa, I didn't even know there was a Mrs. Santa Claus.
Have you ever been very sick? asks SANTA CLAUS.
We've had chicken pox, answers JACK.
Oh, that doesn't count, says SANTA CLAUS, but some times, when children are very sick indeed—or, for days and days—and when they are very good and patient, and take their medicine, and never kick the bed clothes off, then Mrs. Santa Claus comes in the night, and brings them a present, and when they wake up, they find it beside the bed.
Oh, says POLLY, I think she must be almost as good as you, Santa Claus.
And besides that, says SANTA CLAUS, who do you suppose dresses all the dolls that I put into the stockings? She does, of course. Look here at this fine one that she has just finished. To be sure, I make the doll part myself, and this one here is a very fine one, if I do say it: it can talk. Would you like to hear it, Polly? Just pull that string there.
Polly pulls the string and the DOLL, in a very squeaky voice, says, Ma-ma.
And, by the way, SANTA CLAUS goes on, I must put this doll and that soldier into the shrinking-machine.
Why, what is that, Santa Claus? asks JACK.