Third Child (Black doll): 

  This is Miss Lucindy Ann—­
    And though she’s black as jet
  She’s just as good as any doll
    To love, and hug, and pet. 
  I found her in my stocking, dressed
    In this gay calico,
  With bright bandanna on her head,
    And orange ribbon bow. 
  I think she’s very pretty,
    And I guess that you do, too;
  And don’t you wish that I would give
    Lucindy Ann to you?

Fourth Child (Japanese doll): 

  I wrote a note to Santa Claus,
    And this is what I said: 
  “Please bring to me a brand-new doll;
    The last you brought is dead.” 
  And so on Christmas morning
    I found this Jappy here,
  It made me laugh to see her,
    She looked so very queer. 
  But I said to her politely,
    “Good morning, Miss Yum-Yum. 
  This, you know, is Christmas day;
    I’m very glad you’ve come.”

Fifth Child (Rag doll): 

  My dolly did not come from France,
    Nor faraway Japan;
  She’s neither Spanish, Dutch nor Swiss,
    She’s just A-mer-i-can. 
  I know she is not beautiful,
    Nor very finely dressed,
  But I don’t care for that—­I think
    American dolls are best.

Sixth Child (Eskimo):

  My dolly is an Eskimo
    From near the Arctic Sea;
  Kris Kringle brought her in his sleigh
    On Christmas eve for me. 
  She always wears this dress of fur,
    Because where she was born
  It is so very, very cold,
    No light clothes can be worn. 
  But when she’s been with me awhile
    I think I’ll make a change
  And dress my doll in colors bright;
    Then she’ll not look so strange.

Seventh Child (Holding a Teddy bear behind her): 

  Now you all think your dolls are fine. 
    Of that I’m well aware;
  But I have one to beat them all—­
    For mine’s a Teddy bear (holding it up). 
  He doesn’t wear a fancy dress,
    He likes his coat of brown,
  And he is just as handsome
    As any doll in town. 
  I like to hold him in my arms,
    And rock him in my chair,
  Because he looks so cunning—­
    My little baby bear.

Eighth Child (Doll dressed as infant): 

  My doll’s so very sleepy
    She can’t hold up her head;
  She’s just a wee, small infant,
    And it’s time she was in bed. 
  Your dollies all look sleepy, too,
    And so I’m going to say,
  “Let’s sing our little lullaby
    And carry them away.”

SONG.

(Tune—­“There is a Happy Land.”)

(To be sung very slowly and softly.)

  Here comes the old Sand Man,
    Close, close your eyes;
  He’ll catch you if he can,
    So now be wise. 
  Then while you sweetly sleep,
  Angels their watch will keep,
  Bright stars will o’er you peep
    Down from the skies.