December 1937:
Lucy Turnbull knew better than to wish for a pony for Christmas this year. Besides receiving the upsetting news that Santa Claus was only make-believe (Tommy Farley had popped that beloved bubble several weeks ago), Lucy had been assured by Mama in no uncertain terms that she was not getting a pony-and furthermore, Lucy had no business asking for such nonsense. "You might as well ask me to buy you the moon," Mama firmly told her at the dinner table.
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