THE LEIPZIG FAIR
One of the great fairs of the year was now going on in Leipzig. The
Toymakers drove by the railway station, the largest in Europe. Many
people were hurrying in and out. They passed the church where Johann
Sebastian Bach used to sing.
All manner of peddlers swarmed the streets. The children opened their
eyes wide at sight of one man entirely covered by clocks. He was a clock
peddler from the Black Forest. Traders from all over the country were in
Leipzig with their wares. Buyers from every place were at the fair to
buy.
"See, children," said Mrs. Toymaker. "There is a statue of Mendelssohn,
the little boy who used to lead an orchestra. When he grew up, he led
his orchestra in that building."
Leipzig is a city of books. Everyone seems to be reading. They read even
as they stroll along the streets.
Mr. Toymaker immediately set out to find his friend, Mr. Krauss, the
bookseller. But he could not find his friend.
The first day at the market place was very dismal. Nobody paid any
attention to Mr. Toymaker's wares. There were too many beautiful toys to
be seen.
"It is the same here as it was in Nuremberg," said Mrs. Toymaker.
Her sweet face was sad. "Oh, what are we to do?" the poor lady was
thinking.
But Mitzi knew what to do. Tomorrow she and Fritz intended to slip away
from their booth in the market place. Today their father needed them
there to help.
[Illustration: LEIPZIG]
Mr. Toymaker had displayed his prettiest
toys: brightly colored soldiers, flaxen-haired dolls, and animals with
big, staring-eyes. Yet even children did not stop. At a shop across the
square were dolls that talked and walked, engines that sped along
tracks, airplanes that flew, and doll houses with electric lights in
them and elevators and running water. Is it any wonder that Mr. Toymaker's
carved toys did not attract people?
"Run back to the wagon and make some coffee," said Mrs. Toymaker to Mitz
and Fritz. "Father and I will stay here a little longer. When we get
home we shall have supper."
"But there is nothing to eat in the wagon," said Mitzi.
Mrs. Toymaker looked at her husband. Mr. Toymaker turned to Mitzi.
"Obey your mother," he said. "Go home and make coffee. When we come, we
shall bring food with us."
Mitz and Fritz and Frank went slowly back to the wagon.
"I do not understand how Father can bring food," said Mitzi. "There is
certainly no money with which to buy it."
"Tomorrow there will be money," smiled Fritz.
"Yes," agreed Mitzi. "Because of your concert. And Father must be there
to see." Suddenly she cried, "Oh, careful, you donkey! You are splashing
in mud puddles. You are getting your feet all wet!"
[Illustration: LEIPZIG]
But Fritz did not care. He was dreaming. He liked mud puddles because he
was a boy. He liked dreams because he was an artist.
When they reached their wagon home, Mitzi put the coffee on the stove.
Soon Mr. and Mrs. Toymaker arrived. Their arms were full of bundles.
"See what a nice supper we are to have," said Mrs. Toymaker.
She was smiling, but Mitzi noticed that there were tears in her blue
eyes. Mitzi noticed something else besides the tears.
"Mother!" she cried. "Where is your pretty blue necklace?"
Mrs. Toymaker had always worn a string of sparkling blue beads. They
were quite valuable and were her only piece of jewelry. She had loved
them because Mr. Toymaker had given them to her before Mitz and Fritz
were born.
Mrs. Toymaker did not answer Mitzi. She began to untie the bundles.
"See," she said. "Black bread and milk!"
"But, Mother," insisted Mitzi, "where is your necklace? Have you lost
it?"
Mrs. Toymaker saw the terror in Mitzi's eyes. That necklace had seemed
to the little girl the finest and prettiest in all the world. Her
mother was not her mother without it.
Mrs. Toymaker did not know what to say. She drew Mitzi close and kissed
her.
But Mr. Toymaker said, "Enough of this, Mitzi. Go and help prepare the
supper. You are too curious!"
"But, Father--" began Mitzi.
"Very well, then," said Mr. Toymaker. "I shall tell you. We sold the
necklace so that we could buy food. Now, are you satisfied?"
Mr. Toymaker's voice sounded cross. But his face looked very worried.
"Oh, the beautiful necklace!" cried Mitzi.
Mr. Toymaker untied a package.
"Oh, the beautiful cheese!" he sniffed.
He was trying to make the best of things. He was trying to be jolly--poor
Mr. Toymaker!
"One cannot grieve about neck decorations," he said, "when the stomach
cries out to be decorated!"