"All you have to do is to follow me," she went on, as we floated upward
for two flights, paying but little attention to the treasures of art
that lined the walls, and finally passed into a superbly lighted salon,
more daintily beautiful than anything of the kind I had ever seen
before.
"Jove!" I ejaculated, standing amazed in the presence of such luxury and
beauty. "I did not realize that with all her treasures New York held
anything quite so fine as this. What is it, a music-room?"
"It is the nursery," said my companion. "Look about you and see for
yourself."
I did as I was bidden, and such an array of toys as that inspection
revealed! Truly it looked as if the toy-market in all sections of the
world had been levied upon for tribute. Had all the famous toy emporiums
of Nuremberg itself been transported thither bodily, there could not
have been playthings in greater variety than there greeted my eye. From
the most insignificant of tin-soldiers to the most intricate of
mechanical toys for the delectation of the youthful mind, nothing that I
could think of was missing.
The tin-soldiers as ever had a fascination for me, and in an instant I
was down upon the floor, ranging them in their serried ranks, while the
face of my companion wreathed with an indulgent smile.
"You'll do," said she, as I loaded a little spring-cannon with a stub of
a lead-pencil and bowled over half a regiment with one well-directed
shot.
"These are the finest tin-soldiers I ever saw!" I cried with
enthusiasm.
"Only they're not tin," said she. "Solid silver, every man-jack of
them--except the officers--they're made of platinum."
"And will you look at that little electric railroad!" I cried, my eye
ranging to the other end of the salon. "Stations, switches,
danger-signals, cars of all kinds, and even miniature Pullmans, with
real little berths that can be let up and down--who is the lucky kid
who's getting all these beautiful things?"
"Sh!" she whispered, putting her finger to her lips. "He is coming--go
on and play. Pretend you don't see him until he speaks to you."
As she spoke, a door at the far end of the apartment swung gently open,
and a little boy tiptoed softly in. He was a golden-haired little chap,
and I fell in love with his soft, dreamy eyes the moment my own rested
upon them. I could not help glancing up furtively to see his joy over
the discovery of all these wondrous possessions, but alas, to my
surprise, there was only an unemotional stare in his eyes as they swept
the aggregation of childish treasures. Then, on a sudden, he saw me,
squatting on the floor, setting up again the army of silver warriors.
"How do you do?" he said gently, but with just a touch of weariness in
his sad little voice.
"Good morning, and a Merry Christmas to you, sir," I replied.
"What are you doing?" he asked, drawing near, and watching me with a
good deal of seeming curiosity.
"I am playing with your soldiers," said I. "I hope you don't mind?"
"Oh, no indeed," he replied; "but what do you mean by that? What is
playing?"