All right, says FATHER, and ladies first. Mother, you lead off.
Shall I? says MOTHER, feeling her stocking. Oh, I know what this round thing is: it's an orange. No, it isn't either: it's a ball of knitting cotton. Just what I want, and the very kind I use. Now, Polly, it's your turn to see what is in the top of yours.
I'm sure I know what mine is, says POLLY, and then as she draws it out. Yes, it is: it's a doll.
Why, Polly, cries JACK, it's the very same doll that we—
Hush! says POLLY quickly. Yes, it's the very same kind of a doll I asked for. See, Mother, she has a pink sash. Isn't she lovely?
Now, Jack, says FATHER, I think it is your turn next. What is in that box of yours? Slate pencils, probably.
Slate pencils! says JACK, indignantly. You know I didn't want slate pencils.
But are you sure you will get just what you want? asks FATHER.
Yes, indeed I am, answers JACK, pulling out the box and opening it, and there it is—a soldier. I knew it would be that, because I saw it when—
Hush! says POLLY quickly. Father, it is now your turn at last.