The wax doll went to visit the rag doll and sat in a sunny window, where
the people passing might admire her.
“How handsome you are,” said the rag doll. “I wish I had large blue eyes
and red and white cheeks. That white silk dress is very becoming.”
The wax doll only stared and smiled.
“Towser, the dog, leads me a life of it,” went on the rag doll. She felt
she must make conversation for her guest. “Why,” said she, “the other
day he tore me almost to pieces, when—” She stopped suddenly. Something
dreadful was happening to the wax doll. Her face was running down on her
white silk dress.
Just then in came the little girl who owned the dolls. “Dear, dear me,”
said she, “the wax doll has melted,” and she threw her into a corner.
“After all,” said the rag doll to herself, thoughtfully, “I am not
beautiful, and Towser troubles me, but I have much to be thankful for.”