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This dear little goose of a girlie,— Who ever had notions like hers!“If I lived in an evergreen forest, I’d never be cold!” she avers.And how could that happen my dearest?“Why ’cause.” her reply is the clearest— “I’d go to the fir-tree that’s nearest, And buy me a nice set of furs!”


By Last Year’s Christmas Dolly
On, dear! I ’m in such trouble I don’t know what to say!I heard somebody talking of a Christmas doll to-day!I ’m quite upset about it, for if Santa Claus should bringAnother doll to our house, 't would be a dreadful thing!I ’m certain no one wants her, and I don’t see any need,For I am just a Christmas doll myself—I am indeed!
Perhaps you don’t believe it, but I know it cannot beA year since I was hanging on a lovely Christmas tree,And I ’m sure I ’m still a treasure for any little girl—Though my nose is somewhat patted and my hair is out of curl;My broken arm ’s been mended, and the eye that ’s left, you know,Is just as blue and smiling as it was a year ago!
Vol. XXXI1.—20.
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