THE CHINA CAT
Besides being very valuable, Mrs. Cressey’s diamond ring was highly
prized because it was her engagement token, given her before her
marriage. There were tears in her eyes as she looked through the
different rooms for the missing jewel.
“Don’t feel so bad about it,” said her husband. “I’m sure we’ll find
it.”
But they did not find it that night, and the next morning the search
was kept up. Donald and Jane, when told what had happened, also joined
in hunting for the diamond ring, and Donald even looked among his toys,
thinking it might be there.
But it wasn’t, nor was it among Jane’s dolls and other playthings
where the little girl looked.
“I’ll buy you another ring,” said Mr. Cressey.
“Oh, I never could have but _one_ engagement ring,” sighed his wife,
with tears in her eyes. “I want my own ring back!”
However, it could not be found, search as they did. Mrs. Cressey could
not imagine where she had dropped it, for that is how she thought it
must have become lost, since she had not been out of the house.
“Well, maybe it will turn up somewhere in one of the rooms some day,”
said Mr. Cressey, as he went to the office. He felt sad on his wife’s
account.
Now I must tell you a little of what the Woolly Dog did the first night
he spent in the home of Donald. As I have mentioned, after supper the
birthday toy was put on a shelf in the playroom. Other toys were there,
and in the middle of the room was a large Rocking Horse.
“I see we have a new one among us,” said a Jack-in-the-Box, when night
had come and the toys were allowed to pretend to come to life. “There
is a new toy among us, friends.”
“Do you mean the Woolly Dog?” asked a Celluloid Doll which had been
given Jane for Christmas.
“Yes, I mean the Woolly Dog,” answered the Jack-in-the-Box. “How do you
do, Mr. Dog?” he went on. “And how do you like it here? We always ask
new toys that,” he said politely.
“I like it very well,” answered the Woolly Dog. “Of course, I don’t
know much about this place yet, and I hardly feel that I know Donald at
all. As for Jane——”
“Don’t speak of Jane!” cried the Celluloid Doll. “Asking your pardon
for interrupting you,” she went on to the Dog. “But that Jane is a
tyke, if ever there was one.”
“You should see what she did to me!” barked the Woolly Dog.
[Illustration: “Do You Think I’ll Ever Have A Book Made About Me?”
Asked Woolly Dog.
_The Story of a Woolly Dog._ _Page 73_
]
“Tell us!” begged a Paper Doll.
And the Woolly Dog told about being cut open.
“That’s even worse than what happened to me,” sighed the Celluloid Doll.
“What happened to you?” inquired the Dog, for he thought it only polite
to show an interest in the troubles of other toys.
“Oh, Jane dropped me and smashed my nose,” said the Doll. “There’s a
dent in it that will never come out. My beauty is spoiled forever! Oh,
dear!”
“I’m sorry,” said the Dog. “But tell me—have you a ticklish feeling
inside you?”
The Celluloid Doll gave herself a little shake.
“No, I don’t feel ticklish,” she answered, after thinking a moment.
“That doesn’t mean I want you to tickle me, though!” she exclaimed,
jumping away as a Donkey from a Noah’s Ark walked over toward her,
wagging his ears.
“Have any of you toys a ticklish feeling inside you?” asked the Woolly
Dog.
One after another the different toys said they had not.
“Well, it’s very strange,” went on the Woolly Dog. “I didn’t have it in
the store, but since my accident I feel like laughing all the while.”
“That’s a jolly good way to feel, I should think,” observed a Tin
Soldier. “Too many of us are gloomy and sad. I am not, even if I have
to go to war, but to feel like laughing all the while—right jolly I
call that!”
“You wouldn’t if you had a place that wanted scratching and you
couldn’t reach it to scratch,” declared the Woolly Dog.
“Is that how you feel?” asked the Celluloid Doll.
“Yes,” was the reply. “I’m ticklish all the while lately. But don’t let
my trouble worry you. Let’s have some fun,” he proposed.
“Let’s ride on the Rocking Horse!” suggested the Jack-in-the-Box. “Did
you ever ride on a Rocking Horse?” he asked the Woolly Dog.
“No,” was the answer. “But last night, in the store, I gave the Rubber
Clown a ride on my back—that is, I did after he stopped bouncing up and
down. Ha! Ha! That was funny!”
“Tell us about it,” begged the Paper Doll, and the Dog did.
The other toys laughed and all of them said the Woolly Dog was a jolly
chap. They were glad he had come to live among them, and after some
more talk the toys began moving about more freely, for they could do
this when no human eyes watched them.
“Do you mind if we ride on your back?” asked the Jumping Jack of the
Rocking Horse. “I have only one leg,” he added, “so I shan’t be very
heavy.”
“How did you lose your leg?” asked the Woolly Dog. “Was it in war?” and
he looked at the Tin Soldier.
“No, it was Jane’s fault,” said the one-legged Jumping Jack. “I belong
to Donald, but one day Jane tried to grab me away from her brother. She
got hold of one leg and pulled and pulled and pulled until she pulled
it off. Oh, what a day that was!”
“Couldn’t you have it glued on again?” asked the Dog.
“Well, they tried it,” answered the Jumping Jack. “But they must have
used the wrong kind of glue, for my leg broke off and was lost down a
crack. Since then I’ve had only one leg.”
“You are worse off than I am,” barked the Woolly Dog. “I have all four
legs even if I was cut open and have a ticklish feeling inside.”
The Rocking Horse began tilting to and fro.
“If you toys are going to ride on my back, you’d better begin,” he
neighed. “It will soon be morning.”
“That’s right,” said the Jack-in-the-Box. “Daylight will soon be here
and we’ll have to grow stiff and silent. Hurray for a ride on the
Rocking Horse!”
The Rocking Horse was so large that all the toys could get on his back
at once. This they did, mounting one after another. Jack-in-the-Box
helped up the one-legged Jumping Jack, and soon they were all having a
jolly ride around the playroom.
“My, I’m glad I came here to live,” said the Woolly Dog, as he laughed
at the funny look on the Celluloid Doll’s face while the Rocking Horse
galloped around a curve.
“Yes, I think you will like it,” remarked the Paper Doll. And then she
suddenly cried: “Quick! Catch me! I’m slipping! I’m going to fall!”
“I have you,” chattered a little Stuffed Monkey, and, putting out a
hairy hand, he caught hold of the Paper Doll.
“Well, this is the last time I can ride you around,” neighed the Horse.
“I see daylight coming.”
A final merry ride was given the toys and then they all had to scurry
back to their places, for Donald or Jane might come in any moment. And,
a little later, the children entered the playroom.
All that day Donald and his sister played with the Woolly Dog and other
toys. They took some of their playthings out on the porch, and other
children living near by came over to join in the fun.
A little girl named Dorothy had a Sawdust Doll, and Dick, her brother,
had a Rocking Horse almost as large as Donald’s on which the toys had
ridden in the night.
Another boy named Arnold owned a Bold Tin Soldier, and Mirabell, his
sister, had a Lamb on Wheels. Then there was Madeline with a Candy
Rabbit, Archie with a Stuffed Elephant, Herbert who had a Monkey on a
Stick, and Sidney with a Calico Clown.
But of all the toys Donald’s Woolly Dog was the newest and freshest.
Once when the children went into the house to get some bread and
jam, leaving the toys alone, they talked among themselves, and the
Sawdust Doll and the Tin Soldier told of some adventures they had gone
through—adventures, they said, which had been made into books.
“Do you think I’ll ever have a book made about me?” asked the Woolly
Dog.
“Maybe, some day,” answered the Stuffed Elephant. “But first you must
have lots of adventures.”
“Do you think they’ll put me in a book even if I have a tickling
feeling inside?” barked the Dog.
“Oh, that doesn’t matter,” replied the Elephant. “It’s a mere trifle.”
“You wouldn’t call it a trifle if you had it,” said the Dog.
Then the children came back and the toys had to keep quiet. For many
days Donald played with his Woolly Dog. For many days Mrs. Cressey
looked for her lost diamond ring without finding it.
Each night the Woolly Dog was put in the playroom with the other toys,
but one night Donald forgot his Dog and left him in the front hall.
There Susan the maid found him.
“I declare!” exclaimed Susan, “Donald has forgotten his birthday toy
that his Uncle Teddy gave him. I’ll put him in the hall closet with the
umbrellas,” and she did, meaning to tell Donald in the morning.
“Dear me! This isn’t a very nice place to be shut up in,” thought the
Woolly Dog, as he found himself in the umbrella closet. “And what a
funny smell,” he went on. “I say,” he called aloud, “are you here, Mr.
Clown? I seem to smell you.”
“It’s the rubbers and overshoes you smell,” said a voice. “They are
made of rubber as, I suppose, is the Clown you speak of.”
“Oh, I see,” barked the Woolly Dog. “But who are you?” he asked. “I
can’t make out where you are?”
“I’m down inside one of these umbrellas,” was the answer. “If you will
give it a little jiggle I think I can get out. I’m caught on one of the
ribs.”
“One of your ribs!” exclaimed the Woolly Dog.
“No, one of the umbrella ribs. That’s it—thank you,” went on the voice,
and, as the Woolly Dog shook the umbrella, out of it crawled a Cat.
“Oh, bow wow! Gurr-r-r-r—rrr!” barked the Woolly Dog. “Oh, a Cat! I
must chase you! Dogs always chase Cats! Bow wow!”
“No, don’t chase me,” mewed the Cat. “I am a toy like yourself. I am
only a China Cat. Don’t chase me, but hear my sad story.”