[32] About the bear we saw. And it's against the law THE CHRISTMAS LETTER THE CHRISTMAS LETTER I'm always glad when Christmas comes, and yet I'd like it better; If mother wouldn't bother me to write a Christmas letter To uncle John and Cousin Kate and dear old Grand-aunt Gray, And all whose presents come to me from places far away. Of course I love my presents, and if givers should forget her, No little girl, my mother says, need write a Christmas letter. For oh! my ink makes awful blots, though I try to do real well, And when you write them out of school, all words are hard to spell. I mean to mind my mother, she's so kind I would not fret her, But when she says, "Stop playing, dear. Come, write this Christmas letter," That's just the thing I hate to hear, and if I dared, I wouldn't Remember how to hold a pen, I'd make believe I couldn't. [33] [33] A VICTIM A VICTIM My Auntie has a camera, and when I'm out at play And see her coming with it, I try to hide away. For oh, it is so bothersome to hear her, with a laugh, Call, "Stand just were you are, dear; I'll take a photograph." Sometimes, an angry lion, I have just begun to roar, And all the children run from me to sneak behind the door, When Auntie to our forest comes—why does she stop our fun? I'd like to shoot that camera there with my wooden gun. Perhaps, a fire engine, I am rushing to a fire, While people loudly call for help as flames rise higher and higher. I hurry toward the hydrant here, for oh! the flames are hot! When Auntie with her camera cries, "What a fine snapshot!" But then it
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