“"If we were lucky, we got an apple core,"he says," or a few orange rinds." "Now Arthur," Gram says." You never got a lump of coal in your life." "You're right. We never even got a lump of coal, can you imagine? My father couldn't afford coal, so he'd write the word 'coal' on a piece of paper and put it in our stockings and we'd pretend it was a lump of coal, that's how poor we were." "The fair Gwen is laughing to herself and shaking her head. Gram says," How can you tell such lies on Christmas Eve?" "I'm telling takes, my dear, not lies. Lies are mean things, and tales are meant to entertain."”
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