MARJORIE'S PRESENT.

Auckland Star, Volume LXIV, Issue 99, 29 April 1933, Page 3 (Supplement)

MARJORIE'S PRESENT.

Marjorie should have been the happiest girl in New Zealand, and so she was— almost. She had everything that she could wish for, a mother and father who loved her dearly, a lovely home with a beautiful garian, and toys! Why, you should just have a peep at them! Her dplls (and she had quite a family) are the «,-ivy of all the little girls in the neighbourhood. There is Twinkle the big kewpie," and black Dinah the golliwog, besides Fan-Fan the Jap, and Miss Amelia Arabella with the golden curls. Oh, and I nearly forgot her beautiful baby doll, which is quite as big as the Brown'? new baby. If you could only see her go-carts and prams, you would just .say-ooh! Her dolls' house iB a wonderful erection, an up-to-date bungalow, with, everything a modern dolly could require, from the elaborate drawing room to the handy kitchen. Uncle Frank sent it all the way from America. She was enraptured with it at first, but soon grew weary of it. Oh dear! I haven't told you the half of $11 the lovely thjngs in Marjorie's nursery, and jet she wasn't quite happy. You see she had no brothers and sisters with whom to enjoy her treasures. What was the good in playing hide-and-seek in ever such a lovely garden, when she had to be both hider and seeker? She could pretend for a little while, but she soon got tired of taking turns all alone. What fun was there in spring-cleaning Dollville, or dressing up Amelia Arabella just for the sake of looking at it all by herself? Why, the Brown girl's dolls' house was just a benzine case partitioned off into four rooms, and they had to save up pennies for ever so long before they could buy any furniture for it, and their dolls' pram, why! it 'had been new once when T-ily, the eldest girl was a little tot, but it was very shabby now, almost as shabby as Molly, the poor old battered doll, that was wont, to take her walks abroad in it. Yet, in spite of all this, what a jolly family they were, and what splendid games they played together.

Once again it was Christmas Eve. Marjorie's stocking was in its place, and as she hung it up she thought to herself "Poor old Santa Claus, I wonder what he will bring, me? It must be hard for- him to think of something quite fresh for me. Now it must be easy over at the Browns' because there are such a lot of them —they can easily do with whatever he brings. I have a good mind to write to him, and pin my letter to my stocking." She was soon seated at her neat little desk wherein were pencils and paper—for as I told you before, Marjorie had everything she could possibly wish for—and began her letter.

"Dear Santa, —I have quite enough dolls, so please dont leave me any more, and my pram is as good as new. I have a whole bookcase of picture books. I hope yon won't mind, but I gave away most of the things you brought me last year. You see I have so much, and Nurse knows a little boy who has no father, and somehow you forgot to call on him. I know you didn't mean to miss him, but you have so many to think of at Christmas time. Will you please, dear Santa Claus, take all the' things you have brought me straight over to the Browns'? There are six of them you know, and they can always do with a few extra toys. Johnny Brown —- lie's the four-year-old one, is a terror for smashing toys, but he is a darling all the sanje. H© would just love a toy motor car, One he could sit in, and please, please Santa Glaus, dear Santa Claus, all I want is a little baby brother, just like the Browns' new baby — he's so sweet. I hope you will have a happy Christmas. —Your loving friend, Marjorie."

As you. may imagine, this letter took Marjorie a long time to write, but it was finished at last, and piuiied in its place. Then into her dainty white bed she crept, and was soon fast asleep. That night fairies.and toys, babies and Browns, Santa Claus and toys, were all hopelessly tunglcd as .Marjorie wandered through dreamland. At daybreak next morning her eyes sought the foot of her bed. and lo! the stocking had- disappeared, not a sign of it anywhere, and also no baby brother. Presently kongkong sounded from the pavement below. She sprang out of bed, and there in a gorgeous new toy motor was Johnny Biown, proudly blowing the - wonderful

horn. And look! there was Ruby with a brand new doll and pram, and Ted with a big football. "Merry Christmas, Marjorie," they call out when they saw her at the window. "We have all got such lovely presents, and Santa Claus left a note to say that you told him what we most wanted." "Say, Marj., this is a stunner football," cried Ted. Toot-toot and kong-kong ■ sounded the motor horn. "What did you get, Marjorie?" asked Nellie, who was hugging "The Girls' Own Annual." "I am so glad that you like our presents." "I only asked for one thing, but I didn't-' didn't," poor little Marjorie, she was | trying so hard to be brave, but her voice would tremble. Before she had time to finish what she was saying she heard her Daddy calling "Marjorie, Marjorie, merry Christmas, little daughter." Daddy was excited. He tossed her in the air and called her his big girl. "Come with me, darling and wish mother a. happy day." Marjorie opened her mother's door. "Merry Christmas, mumsy, dear. I do hope you—" then she stopped, for there in mother's bed was the dearest, sweetest little baby brother in the world. Marjorie's happiness was complete.