Jack
possessed an inordinate love for children, and although his manly spirit
would abhor the sneaking practice of eavesdropping, he could not resist the
temptation to steal up to the window just a moment to listen to the sweet,
prattling voice. The first words he caught were:
"Before papa died we always had Christmas, didn't we, mamma?"
"Yes, Totty, darling; but papa earned money enough to afford to make his
little pets happy at least once a year. You must remember, Totty, that we
are very poor, and although mamma works very, very hard, she can scarcely
earn enough to supply us with food and clothes."
Jack Dawson still lingered upon the outside. He could not leave, although
he felt ashamed of himself for listening.
"We hung up our stockings last Christmas, didn't we, mamma?" continued the
little girl.
"Yes, Totty; but we were poor then, and Santa Claus never notices real poor
people. He gave you a little candy then, just because you were such good
children."
"Is we any poorer now, mamma?"
"Oh! yes, much poorer.
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