Mrs. Mulligan. Kathleen O'Toole, it's a saint ye are.
Mrs. O'Toole. I says to Pat, says I, "Christmas ain't Christmas at all, at all, unless there's some children at the dinner." "What'll we do?" says Pat. "Invite the Mulligans," says I. And Pat was tickled to death. We've potatoes and squash and cabbage from me own garden, and we've oyster dressing and cramberries and stewed corn and apple fritters, and it's meself that has made eight mince pies, and four punkin ones—and I think we'll be after having a dinner on Christmas Day that would do credit to ould Saint Patrick himself.
Mrs. Mulligan. Sure, ye almost make me cry for joy, Kathleen O'Toole, and after the goat trated ye the way he did, too.
Mrs. O'Toole. If a woman can't be neighborly and loving on Christmas Day, Mollie Mulligan, sure I'm thinking she niver can be neighborly and loving at all, at all.
Mrs. Mulligan. And ye're aven makin' a bit of an iliphant for wee Peter Pan.
Mrs. O'Toole. I am that. Here's the little, fat body. (Shows cylindrical piece of dark green squash.) And here's the four legs. (Shows two bananas cut in half.) I'll just stick the legs on with nails—and there he stands. Now, here's a little potato for a head, and an ould skinny carrot for a trunk. I'll stick them on with a hair pin. (Does so.) Now, I'll stick on the ears and put in the shoe-button eyes, and with this wee bit of black paper for a tailpiece, and there ye are. Mr. Mumbo Jumbo Mulligan as natural as life and twice as handsome. (Shows elephant to audience.)
Mrs. Mulligan. Here's a doll baby I've dressed, but it's no head she has at all, at all.
Mrs. O'Toole. Use a big yellow apple or a wee yellow punkin, and put on a baby cap—and there ye are. Stick in some buttons for eyes, and a wee nose and mouth of red paper—and stick the head on the body with some hair pins, and the quane herself niver had a better doll baby.
Mrs. Mulligan. I'll put her right here on the table alongside of the iliphant.
Mrs. O'Toole. It's nine o'clock, it is. Isn't it time for the children to be home?