a toy-fair, brighter and gayer than the brightest bazaar ever seen,
held in an open glade, where forest-trees stood majestically behind the
glittering stalls, and stretched their gigantic arms above our heads,
brilliant with a thousand hanging lamps. At the moment of my entrance
all was silent and quiet. The toys lay in their places looking so
incredibly attractive that I reflected with disgust that all my ready
cash, except one shilling and some coppers, had melted away amid the
tawdry fascinations of a village booth. I was counting the coppers
(sevenpence halfpenny), when all in a moment a dozen sixpenny fiddles
leaped from their places and began to play, accordions of all sizes
joined them, the drumsticks beat upon the drums, the penny trumpets
sounded, and the yellow flutes took up the melody on high notes, and
bore it away through the trees. It was weird fairy-music, but quite
delightful. The nearest approach to it that I know of above ground is
to hear a wild dreamy air very well whistled to a pianoforte
accompaniment.
"When the music began, all the toys rose. The dolls jumped down and
began to dance. The poodles barked, the pannier donkeys wagged their
ears, the wind-mills turned, the puzzles put themselves together, the
bricks built houses, the balls flew from side to side, the battledores
and shuttlecocks kept it up among themselves, and the skipping-ropes
went round, the hoops ran off, and the sticks ran after them, the
cobbler's wax at the tails of all the green frogs gave way, and they
jumped at the same moment, whilst an old-fashioned go-cart ran madly
about with nobody inside. It was most exhilarating.
"I soon became aware that the beetle was once more at my elbow.
"'There are some beautiful toys here,' I said.
"'Well, yes,' he replied, 'and some odd-looking ones too. You see,
whatever has been really used by any child as a plaything gets a right
to come down here in the end; and there is some very queer company, I
assure you. Look there.'
"I looked, and said, 'It seems to be a potato.'
"'So it is,' said the beetle. 'It belonged to an Irish child in one of
your great cities. But to whom the child belonged I don't know, and I
don't think he knew himself. He lived in the corner of a dirty,
overcrowded room, and into this corner, one day, the potato rolled. It
was the only plaything he ever had. He stuck two cinders into it for
eyes, scraped a nose and mouth, and loved it. He sat upon it during the
day, for fear it should be taken from him, but in the dark he took it
out and played with it. He was often hungry, but he never ate that
potato. When he died it rolled out of the corner, and was swept into
the ashes. Then it came down here.'
"'What a sad story!' I exclaimed.
"The beetle seemed in no way affected.
"'It is a curious thing,' he rambled on, 'that potato takes quite a
good place among the toys. You see, rank and precedence down here is
entirely a question of age; that is, of the length of time that any
plaything has been in the possession of a child; and all kinds of ugly
old things hold the first rank; whereas the most costly and beautiful
works of art have often been smashed or lost by the spoilt children of
rich people in two or three days. If you care for sad stories, there is
another queer thing belonging to a child who died.'
"It appeared to be a large sheet of canvas with some strange kind of
needlework upon it.
"'It belonged to a little girl in a rich household,' the beetle
continued; 'she was an invalid, and difficult to amuse. We have lots of
her toys, and very pretty ones too. At last some one taught her to make
caterpillars in wool-work. A bit of work was to be done in a certain
stitch and then cut with scissors, which made it look like a hairy
caterpillar. The child took to this, and cared for nothing else. Wool
of every shade was procured for her, and she made caterpillars of all
colours. Her only complaint was that they did not turn into
butterflies. However, she was a sweet, gentle-tempered child, and she
went on, hoping that they would do so, and making new ones. One day she
was heard talking and laughing in her bed for joy. She said that all
the caterpillars had become butterflies of many colours, and that the
room was full of them. In that happy fancy she died.'
"'And the caterpillars came down here?'
"'Not for a long time,' said the beetle; 'her mother kept them while
_she_ lived, and then they were lost and came down. No toys come
down here till they are broken or lost.'
"'What are those sticks doing here?' I asked.
"The music had ceased, and all the toys were lying quiet. Up in a
corner leaned a large bundle of walking-sticks. They are often sold in
toy-shops, but I wondered on what grounds they came here.
"'Did you ever meet with a too benevolent old gentleman wondering where
on earth his sticks go to?' said the beetle. 'Why do they lend them to
their grandchildren? The young rogues use them as hobby-horses and lose
them, and down they come, and the sentinels cannot stop them. The real
hobby-horses won't allow them to ride with them, however. There was a
meeting on the subject. Every stick was put through an examination.
"Where is your nose? Where is your mane? Where are your wheels?" The
last was a poser. Some of them had got noses, but none of them had got
wheels. So they were not true hobby-horses. Something of the kind
occurred with the elder-whistles.'
"'The what?' I asked.
"'Whistles that boys make of elder-sticks with the pith scooped out,'
said the beetle. 'The real instruments would not allow them to play
with them. The elder-whistles said they would not have joined had they
been asked. They were amateurs, and never played with professionals. So
they have private concerts with the combs and curl-papers. But, bless
you, toys of this kind are endless here! Teetotums made of old cotton
reels, tea-sets of acorn cups, dinner-sets of old shells, monkeys made
of bits of sponge, all sorts of things made of breastbones and
merrythoughts, old packs of cards that are always building themselves
into houses and getting knocked down when the band begins to play,
feathers, rabbits' tails--'
"'Ah! I have heard about the rabbits' tails,' I said.
"'There they are,' the beetle continued; 'and when the band plays you
will see how they skip and run. I don't believe you would find out that
they had no bodies, for my experience of a warren is, that when rabbits
skip and run it is the tails chiefly that you do see. But of all the
amateur toys the most successful are the boats. We have a lake for our
craft, you know, and there's quite a fleet of boats made out of old
cork floats in fishing villages. Then, you see, the old bits of cork
have really been to sea, and seen a good deal of service on the
herring-nets, and so they quite take the lead of the smart shop ships,
that have never been beyond a pond or a tub of water. But that's an
exception. Amateur toys are mostly very dowdy. Look at that box.'
"I looked, thought I must have seen it before, and wondered why a very
common-looking box without a lid should affect me so strangely, and why
my memory should seem struggling to bring it back out of the past.
Suddenly it came to me--it was our old Toy Box.
"I had completely forgotten that nursery institution till recalled by
the familiar aspect of the inside, which was papered with proof-sheets
of some old novel on which black stars had been stamped by way of
ornament. Dim memories of how these stars, and the angles of the box,
and certain projecting nails interfered with the letter-press and
defeated all attempts to trace the thread of the nameless narrative,
stole back over my brain; and I seemed once more, with my head in the
Toy Box, to beguile a wet afternoon by apoplectic endeavours to follow
the fortunes of Sir Charles and Lady Belinda, as they took a favourable
turn in the left-hand corner at the bottom of the trunk.
"'What are you staring at?' said the beetle.
"'It's my old Toy Box!' I exclaimed.
"The beetle rolled on to his back, and struggled helplessly with his
legs: I turned him over. (Neither the first nor the last time of my
showing that attention to beetles.)
"'That's right,' he said, 'set me on my legs. What a turn you gave me!
You don't mean to say you have any toys here? If you have, the sooner
you make your way home the better.'
"'Why?' I inquired.
"'Well,' he said, 'there's a very strong feeling in the place. The toys
think that they are ill-treated, and not taken care of by children in
general. And there is some truth in it. Toys come down here by scores
that have been broken the first day. And they are all quite resolved
that if any of their old masters or mistresses come this way they shall
be punished.'
"'How will they be punished?' I inquired.
"'Exactly as they did to their toys, their toys will do to them. All is
perfectly fair and regular.'
"'I don't know that I treated mine particularly badly,' I said; 'but I
think I would rather go.'
"'I think you'd better,' said the beetle. 'Good-evening!' and I saw him
no more.
"I turned to go, but somehow I lost the road. At last, as I thought, I
found it, and had gone a few steps when I came on a detachment of
wooden soldiers, drawn up on their lazy tongs. I thought it better to
wait till they got out of the way, so I turned back, and sat down in a
corner in some alarm. As I did so, I heard a click, and the lid of a
small box covered with mottled paper burst open, and up jumped a figure
in a blue striped shirt and a rabbit-skin beard, whose eyes were
intently fixed on me. He was very like my old Jack-in-a-box. My back
began to creep, and I wildly meditated escape, frantically trying at
the same time to recall whether it were I or my brother who originated
the idea of making a small bonfire of our own one 5th of November, and
burning the old Jack-in-a-box for Guy Fawkes, till nothing was left of
him but a twirling bit of red-hot wire and a strong smell of frizzled
fur. At this moment he nodded to me and spoke.
"'Oh! that's you, is it?' he said.
"'No, it's not,' I answered hastily; for I was quite demoralized by
fear and the strangeness of the situation.
"'Who is it, then?' he inquired.
"'I'm sure I don't know,' I said; and really I was so confused that I
hardly did.
"'Well, _we_ know,' said the Jack-in-a-box, 'and that's all that's
needed. Now, my friends,' he continued, addressing the toys who had
begun to crowd round us, 'whoever recognizes a mistress and remembers a
grudge--the hour of our revenge has come. Can we any of us forget the
treatment we received at her hands? No! When we think of the ingenious
fancy, the patient skill, that went to our manufacture; that fitted the
delicate joints and springs, laid on the paint and varnish, and gave
back-hair-combs and ear-rings to our smallest dolls, we feel that we
deserved more care than we received. When we reflect upon the kind
friends who bought us with their money, and gave us away in the
benevolence of their hearts, we know that for their sakes we ought to
have been longer kept and better valued. And when we remember that the
sole object of our own existence was to give pleasure and amusement to
our possessors, we have no hesitation in believing that we deserved a
handsomer return than to have had our springs broken, our paint
dirtied, and our earthly careers so untimely shortened by wilful
mischief or fickle neglect. My friends, the prisoner is at the bar.'
"'I am not,' I said; for I was determined not to give in as long as
resistance was possible. But as I said it I became aware, to my
unutterable amazement, that I was inside the go-cart. How I got there
is to this moment a mystery to me--but there I was.
"There was a great deal of excitement about the Jack-in-a-box's speech.
It was evident that he was considered an orator, and, indeed, I have
seen counsel in a real court look wonderfully like him. Meanwhile, my
old toys appeared to be getting together. I had no idea that I had had
so many. I had really been very fond of most of them, and my heart beat
as the sight of them recalled scenes long forgotten, and took me back
to childhood and home. There were my little gardening tools, and my
slate, and there was the big doll's bedstead, that had a real mattress,
and real sheets and blankets, all marked with the letter D, and a
work-basket made in the blind school, and a shilling School of Art
paint-box, and a wooden doll we used to call the Dowager, and
innumerable other toys which I had forgotten till the sight of them
recalled them to my memory, but which have again passed from my mind.
Exactly opposite to me stood the Chinese mandarin, nodding as I had
never seen him nod since the day when I finally stopped his
performances by ill-directed efforts to discover how he did it.
"And what was that familiar figure among the rest, in a yellow silk
dress and maroon velvet cloak and hood trimmed with black lace? How
those clothes recalled the friends who gave them to me! And surely this
was no other than my dear doll Rosa--the beloved companion of five
years of my youth, whose hair I wore in a locket after I was grown up.
No one could say I had ill-treated _her_. Indeed, she fixed her
eyes on me with a most encouraging smile--but then she always smiled,
her mouth was painted so.
"'All whom it may concern, take notice,' shouted the Jack-in-a-box, at
this point, 'that the rule of this honourable court is tit for tat.'
"'Tit, tat, tumble two,' muttered the slate in a cracked voice. (How
well I remembered the fall that cracked it, and the sly games of tit
tat that varied the monotony of our long multiplication sums!)
"'What are you talking about?' said the Jack-in-a-box, sharply; 'if you
have grievances, state them, and you shall have satisfaction, as I told
you before.'
"'---- and five make nine,' added the slate promptly, 'and six are
fifteen, and eight are twenty-seven--there we go again.' I wonder why I
never get up to the top of a line of figures right. It will never prove
at this rate.'
"'His mind is lost in calculations,' said the Jack-in-a-box,
'besides--between ourselves--he has been "cracky" for some time. Let
some one else speak, and observe that no one is at liberty to pass a
sentence on the prisoner heavier than what he has suffered from her. I
reserve _my_ judgment to the last.'
"'I know what that will be,' thought I; 'oh dear! oh dear! that a
respectable maiden lady should live to be burnt as a Guy Fawkes!'
"'Let the prisoner drink a gallon of iced water at once, and then be
left to die of thirst.'
"The horrible idea that the speaker might possibly have the power to
enforce his sentence diverted my attention from the slate, and I looked
round. In front of the Jack-in-a-box stood a tiny red flower-pot and
saucer, in which was a miniature cactus. My thoughts flew back to a
bazaar in London where, years ago, a stand of these fairy plants had
excited my warmest longings, and where a benevolent old gentleman whom
I had not seen before, and never saw again, bought this one and gave it
to me. Vague memories of his directions for repotting and tending it
reproached me from the past. My mind misgave me that after all it had
died a dusty death for lack of water. True, the cactus tribe being
succulent plants do not demand much moisture, but I had reason to fear
that, in this instance, the principle had been applied too far, and
that after copious baths of cold spring water in the first days of its
popularity it had eventually perished by drought. I suppose I looked
guilty, for it nodded its prickly head towards me, and said, 'Ah! you
know me. You remember what I was, do you? Did you ever think of what I
might have been? There was a fairy rose which came down here not long
ago--a common rose enough, in a broken pot patched with string and
white paint. It had lived in a street where it was the only pure
beautiful thing your eyes could see. When the girl who kept it died
there were eighteen roses upon it. She was eighteen years old, and they
put the roses in the coffin with her when she was buried. That was
worth living for. Who knows what I might have done? And what right had
you to cut short a life that might have been useful?'
"Before I could think of a reply to these too just reproaches, the
flower-pot enlarged, the plant shot up, putting forth new branches as
it grew; then buds burst from the prickly limbs, and in a few moments
there hung about it great drooping blossoms of lovely pink, with long
white tassels in their throats. I had been gazing at it some time in
silent and self-reproachful admiration, when I became aware that the
business of this strange court was proceeding, and that the other toys
were pronouncing sentence against me.
"'Tie a string round her neck and take her out bathing in the brooks,'
I heard an elderly voice say in severe tones. It was the Dowager Doll.
She was inflexibly wooden, and had been in the family for more than one
generation.
"'It's not fair,' I exclaimed, 'the string was only to keep you from
being carried away by the stream. The current is strong and the bank
steep by the Hollow Oak Pool, and you had no arms or legs. You were old
and ugly, but you would wash, and we loved you better than many waxen
beauties.'
"'Old and ugly!' shrieked the Dowager. 'Tear her wig off! Scrub the
paint off her face! Flatten her nose on the pavement! Saw off her legs
and give her no crinoline! Take her out bathing, I say, and bring her
home in a wheelbarrow with fern roots on the top of her.'
"I was about to protest again, when the paint-box came forward, and
balancing itself in an artistic, undecided kind of way on two
camel's-hair brushes which seemed to serve it for feet, addressed the
Jack-in-a-box.
"'Never dip your paint into the water. Never put your brush into your
mouth--"
"'That's not evidence,' said the Jack-in-a-box.
"'Your notions are crude,' said the paint-box loftily; 'it's in print,
and here, all of it, or words to that effect;' with which he touched
the lid, as a gentleman might lay his hand upon his heart.
"'It's not evidence,' repeated the Jack-in-a-box. 'Let us proceed.'
"'Take her to pieces and see what she's made of, if you please,'
tittered a pretty German toy that moved to a tinkling musical
accompaniment. 'If her works are available after that it will be an era
in natural science.'
"The idea tickled me, and I laughed.
"'Hard-hearted wretch!' growled the Dowager Doll.
"'Dip her in water and leave her to soak on a white soup-plate,' said
the paint-box; 'if that doesn't soften her feelings, deprive me of my
medal from the School of Art!'
"'Give her a stiff neck!' muttered the mandarin. 'Ching Fo! give her a
stiff neck.'
"'Knock her teeth out,' growled the rake in a scratchy voice; and then
the tools joined in chorus.
"'Take her out when it's fine and leave her out when it's wet, and lose
her in--
"'The coal-hole,' said the spade.
"'The hay-field,' said the rake.
"'The shrubbery,' said the hoe.
"This difference of opinion produced a quarrel, which in turn seemed to
affect the general behaviour of the toys, for a disturbance arose which
the Jack-in-a-box vainly endeavoured to quell. A dozen voices shouted
for a dozen different punishments, and (happily for me) each toy
insisted upon its own wrongs being the first to be avenged, and no one
would hear of the claims of any one else being attended to for an
instant. Terrible sentences were passed, which I either failed to hear
through the clamour then, or have forgotten now. I have a vague idea
that several voices cried that I was to be sent to wash in somebody's
pocket; that the work-basket wished to cram my mouth with unfinished
needlework; and that through all the din the thick voice of my old
leather ball monotonously repeated:
"'Throw her into the dust-hole.'
"Suddenly a clear voice pierced the confusion, and Rosa tripped up.
"'My dears,' she began, 'the only chance of restoring order is to
observe method. Let us follow our usual rule of precedence. I claim the
first turn as the prisoner's oldest toy.'
"'That you are not, Miss,' snapped the Dowager; 'I was in the family
for fifty years.'
"'In the family. Yes, ma'am; but you were never her doll in particular.
I was her very own, and she kept me longer than any other plaything. My
judgment must be first.'
"'She is right,' said the Jack-in-a-box; 'and now let us get on. The
prisoner is delivered unreservedly into the hands of our trusty and
well-beloved Rosa--doll of the first class--for punishment according to
the strict law of tit for tat.'
"'I shall request the assistance of the pewter tea-things,' said Rosa,
with her usual smile. 'And now, my love,' she added, turning to me, 'we
will come and sit down.'
"Where the go-cart vanished to I cannot remember, nor how I got out of
it; I only know that I suddenly found myself free, and walking away
with my hand in Rosa's. I remember vacantly feeling the rough edge of
the stitches on her flat kid fingers, and wondering what would come
next.
"'How very oddly you hold your feet, my dear,' she said; 'you stick out
your toes in such an eccentric fashion, and you lean on your legs as if
they were table legs, instead of supporting yourself by my hand. Turn
your heels well out, and bring your toes together. You may even let
them fold over each other a little; it is considered to have a pretty
effect among dolls,'
"Under one of the big trees Miss Rosa made me sit down, propping me
against the trunk as if I should otherwise have fallen; and in a moment
more a square box of pewter tea-things came tumbling up to our feet,
where the lid burst open, and all the tea-things fell out in perfect
order; the cups on the saucers, the lid on the teapot, and so on.
"'Take a little tea, my love?' said Miss Rosa, pressing a pewter teacup
to my lips.
"I made believe to drink, but was only conscious of inhaling a draught
of air with a slight flavour of tin. In taking my second cup I was
nearly choked with the teaspoon, which got into my throat.
"'What are you doing?' roared the Jack-in-a-box at this moment; 'you
are not punishing her.'
"'I am treating her as she treated me,' answered Rosa, looking as
severe as her smile would allow. 'I believe that tit for tat is the
rule, and that at present it is my turn.'
"'It will be mine soon,' growled the Jack-in-a-box, and I thought of
the bonfire with a shudder. However, there was no knowing what might
happen before his turn did come, and meanwhile I was in friendly hands.
It was not the first time my dolly and I had sat together under a tree,
and, truth to say, I do not think she had any injuries to avenge.
"'When your wig comes off,' murmured Rosa, as she stole a pink kid arm
tenderly round my neck, 'I'll make you a cap with blue and white
rosettes, and pretend that you have had a fever.'
"I thanked her gratefully, and was glad to reflect that I was not yet
in need of an attention which I distinctly remember having shown to her
in the days of her dollhood. Presently she jumped up.
"'I think you shall go to bed now, dear,' she said, and, taking my hand
once more, she led me to the big doll's bedstead, which, with its
pretty bed-clothes and white dimity furniture, looked tempting enough
to a sleeper of suitable size. It could not have supported one quarter
of my weight.
"'I have not made you a night-dress, my love,' Rosa continued; 'I am
not fond of my needle, you know. _You_ were not fond of your needle, I
think, I fear you must go to bed in your clothes, my dear.'
"'You are very kind,' I said, 'but I am not tired, and--it would not
bear my weight.'
"'Pooh! pooh!' said Rosa. 'My love! I remember passing one Sunday in it
with the rag-doll, and the Dowager, and the Punch and Judy (the amount
of pillow their two noses took up I shall never forget!), and the old
doll that had nothing on, because her clothes were in the dolls' wash
and did not get ironed on Saturday night, and the Highlander, whose
things wouldn't come off, and who slept in his kilt. Not bear you?
Nonsense! You must go to bed, my dear. I've got other things to do, and
I can't leave you lying about.'
"'The whole lot of you did not weigh one quarter of what I do,' I cried
desperately. 'I cannot and will not get into that bed; I should break
it all to pieces, and hurt myself into the bargain.'
"'Well, if you will not go to bed I must put you there,' said Rosa, and
without more ado, she snatched me up in her kid arms, and laid me down.
"Of course it was just as I expected. I had hardly touched the two
little pillows (they had a meal-baggy smell from being stuffed with
bran), when the woodwork gave way with a crash, and I
fell--fell--fell--
"Though I fully believed every bone in my body to be broken, it was
really a relief to get to the ground. As soon as I could, I sat up, and
felt myself all over. A little stiff, but, as it seemed, unhurt. Oddly
enough, I found that I was back again under the tree; and more strange
still, it was not the tree where I sat with Rosa, but the old oak-tree
in the little wood. Was it all a dream? The toys had vanished, the
lights were out, the mosses looked dull in the growing dusk, the
evening was chilly, the hole no larger than it was thirty years ago,
and when I felt in my pocket for my spectacles I found that they were
on my nose.
"I have returned to the spot many times since, but I never could induce
a beetle to enter into conversation on the subject, the hole remains
obstinately impassable, and I have not been able to repeat my visit to
the Land of Lost Toys.