A Christmas Gift

- by Mabel L. Pray

It seems that dear old Santa Claus

One day in old November

Received a note from Dottie D.,

With words and phrases tender,

In which she asked the dear old man

With many words of warning,

To bring her a new Paris doll

On the next Christmas morning.

Just as he started for his sleigh

One eve, in old December,

He turned to Mistress Santa Claus

And said, "Did you remember

About that fine new Paris doll

For wee Dot in the city?

I must not fail to take that gift,

'Twould be a dreadful pity."

It was early in the morning,

One day in old December;

A very happy, joyous day

That children all remember,

When Santa, on his mission fleet,

To the nursery came creeping,

And left the fine new Paris doll

Among the others, sleeping.

The holly and the mistletoe

Were bright this winter morning;

One stocking filled from top to toe

The mantel was adorning.

A Christmas tree hung full with gifts,

While underneath, reposing

On an upholstered rocking chair,

The Paris doll was dozing.

Then suddenly from out the gloom

Dot's other dolls came peeping,

Their hair uncombed, their dresses torn,

And noses red with weeping;

They talked in whispers soft and low,

But tones that grew quite scornful,

About the fate that was to greet

This stranger, sad and mournful.

There were Annabel and Bessie,

That came one cold December;

They hobbled round with broken backs

From falling on the fender.

Then Tommy, Grace, and baby Ruth,

All came one birthday party,

And Rose and Don a year ago,

With Santa Claus so hearty.

They all assembled round the tree,

And then with manners shocking

They pinched and shook the Paris doll,

And cried in words so mocking -

"Why, don't you know, you stupid thing,

Dot won't care for another,

She has received this Christmas morn

A dear, sweet baby brother!"