We wish you a Merr(ier) Christmas!
“Whoa!”
“Wait till the last minute, he says; they’ve got millions of trees left then and you’ll get one for practically nothing.”
“—And then Santa comes into the room. He always smells of moth balls.”
“Is she for me, mommy, or am I for her?”
“Well, what have we here—‘To Elmer from Elmer.’”
“She found the Santa Claus suit in my closet. Now she thinks we’re having an affair.”
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I love the new Saturday Evening Post because it is so much like the old one. I loved it then, and I love it now. Thank you!