Christmas every day and other stories told for children

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.”“Well!” Her papa roused himself from his writing by a great effort. “Well, then, I'll tell you about the little girl that wanted it Christmas every day in the year. How would you like that?”“First-rate!” said the little girl; and she nestled into comfortable shape in his lap, ready for listening.“Very well, then, this little pig—Oh, what are you pounding me for?”“Because you said little pig instead of little girl.”