I don't."

"He'll not be comin' back any more," said Mrs. Flannery positively.
"I'm wonderin' he came at all, and the jail so handy. All ye have t'
do is t' call a cop."

"Sure!" said Mrs. Gratz. "But it is not nice I should put Santy Claus
in jail. Such a liberal Santy Claus, too."

"Have it yer own way, ma'am," said Mrs. Flannery. "I'll own 'tis some
different whin chickens is stole. 'Tis hard to expind th' affections
on a bunch of chickens, but, if any one was t' steal my pig, t' jail
he would go, Santy Claus or no Santy Claus. Not but what ye have a
kind heart anyway, ma'am, not wantin' t' put th' poor fellow in jail
whin he has already lost nine hundred dollars, which, goodness knows,
ye might have t' hand back, was th' law t' take a hand in it."

"So!" said Mrs. Gratz. "Such is the law, yet? All right, I don't
belief in chicken thiefs, no matter how much he comes again. I stick
me to Santy Claus. Always will I belief in Santy Claus. Chicken
thiefs gives, and wants to take away again, but Santy Claus is always
giving and never taking."

"Ye 're fergettin' th' chickens that was took," suggested Mrs.
Flannery.

"Took?" said Mrs. Gratz.

"Tooken," Mrs. Flannery corrected.