"The little girl came into her papa's study, as she always did Saturday morning before breakfast, and asked for a story. He tried to beg off that morning, for he was very busy, but she would not let him. So he began:
"Well, once there was a little pig--"
She put her hand over his mouth and stopped him at the word. She said she had heard little pig stories till she was perfectly sick of them.
"Well, what kind of story shall I tell, then?"
"About Christmas. It's getting to be the season. It's past Thanksgiving already."
"It seems to me," her papa argued, "that I've told as often about Christmas as I have about little pigs."
"No difference! Christmas is more interesting.""
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First published 1892