A Riddle; or, Mamma’s Christmas Present

“Hurrah for Christmas! How it snows! how it blows! who cares? who’s got a Christmas present?”

“Mother! well, what has mother got in her stocking? Nothing?—that’s too bad.”

“Aye; but I did not say she had nothing; I said she had nothing in her stocking.”

“Did not Santa Claus bring her any thing?”

“Yes.”

“Well, why not put it in her stocking, then?”

“It was too big.”

“What can it be? Tell us; a work-table?”

“No.”

“A rocking-chair?”

“No.”

“A new silk dress?”

“No.”

“A muff?”

“No.”

“A writing-desk?”

“No.”

“A picture? an ottoman? a statue? a new bonnet?”

“No—no—no—no!”

“Pshaw, it was nothing.”

“But I tell you it was something!”

“Something? then, a table-bell?”

“No; it is not a bell now, but it may be.”

“Not a bell now, but may be! Oh, pshaw, we give it up; tell us, what is it?”

“Well then—a live baby!”