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"Old Santa'll love him, too. And I'll give him my wed wose. Mamma wored it to her party las' night. Smell it, Anne; ain't it sweet? And see here," he opened his chubby fist. "Fahver give me five cents. I'm goin' to give it to Santa C'aus. And tell him to buy him anyfing he wants wif it." Anne hugged him heartily. "You dear, cute, generous, precious darling!" she exclaimed.
Arthur looked at her gravely. "I'se forgot. Was so many fings. And one sock is for Santa C'aus. I'm going to fill it all full of fings. A apple. And popcorn balls Marfa made 'em. And my dear woolly dog's for Santa. Will he care if it's foot's bwoke?" "But, Arthur darling," suggested Anne, "I wouldn't give the woolly dog away. You love it best of all your toys." "Yes, I do," agreed Arthur.
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