MARY AND HER LITTLE LAMB AND SOME OTHERS
AMONG her most treasured dollies was one that Sally’s Auntie Edith had
dressed as Mary to be accompanied by her little lamb, the latter to be
purchased from some toy store when Mary’s wardrobe was completed.
Now, the Walking House had been built on generous lines so that the
rooms were more airy and the dolls, in consequence, larger than those
that inhabit most doll’s houses. Mary, then, was a blond beauty, with
the fluffiest of yellow locks, crowned by the most bewitching of
shepherdess’ hats, and the most delightful costume of pale pink and
white, perfect in every detail from the fluffy paniers of the overdress
to the long, slim crook which Bob had carved with his jig-saw and which
Mary, unfortunately, could not carry owing to the fact that her china
fingers, like those of most dollies, were straight and inflexible.
A bit of very fine wire, neatly manipulated, however, produced the
desired effect, and indeed Mary felt very little doubt in her own mind
as to the fact that all the rest of the dolls were cunningly deceived
by it.
So much for Mary. When it came to the lamb, that was quite another
thing, for it seemed impossible to find anywhere a lamb of the correct
proportions to fit in with those of the charming little Mary. Store
after store was ransacked in vain, when suddenly Sally recollected that
somewhere in the attic reposed the remains of a Noah’s Ark which she
had grown tired of and had put away some time before. To the attic,
then, they flew and presently unearthed the Noah’s Ark carefully tied
up in brown paper and still in a very fair state of preservation. Out
upon the floor pell-mell they emptied the animals, but no bleating or
baahing lambkin rewarded their quest. It seemed as if there had been a
general demand for mutton and that everything of the sheep variety had
been swept from off the face of the earth. Thoroughly disappointed,
Auntie Edith sat dropping the animals back into the Ark when suddenly
she stopped with a little scream of delight and snapped up a small
object that had fallen on the floor and been hidden under her skirt.
Not a lamb, however, as Sally at first supposed, but a goat that might
have passed anywhere for a sheep except for its horns. It is very odd
what a striking resemblance often exists between the animals of a
Noah’s Ark when really there is no relationship between them at all.
So it was with this goat. The little curls of wool with which he was
covered, his legs and hoofs, his long, meek face, everything except the
sharp, curved horns resembled most intimately Mary’s little lamb. And
it took about five minutes to transform him into that very animal. Off
came his horns, as quick as a wink their little stumps were covered
with bits of cotton wool neatly glued in place. A blue ribbon was tied
around his neck and finished with a graceful bow, and, lo and behold,
the Lamb!
To say that Mary was hugely delighted at this outcome is to put it very
mildly indeed. For she had been greatly troubled in mind, fearing that
after all she would not be Mary but somebody else that did not require
the continued attendance of a lamb. Somebody else, or perhaps nobody
in particular! At this mournful conclusion a tear rolled silently down
Mary’s china cheek. But now it was all right, and she stood up right
bravely on her little, high-heeled shoes, grasping her crook with one
hand, while the other rested proudly on the Lamb’s woolly back. A very
delightful picture she made, and a very welcome addition to the family
of the Walking House she proved to be. But of Mary and her Little Lamb
we are destined to hear more hereafter.
Sally was very fond of arranging and re-arranging her doll’s house,
and on one particular morning was busily at work, this time at the
kitchen that already shone with cleanliness. Sally was squatting on her
heels, cleaning out the ice-box, which contained many plates holding
delicious looking foods of all descriptions. To be sure, they were only
make-believe, but they certainly looked good to Sally, who had not
eaten much breakfast and consequently felt hungry. One in particular
appealed to her fancy, a delicious looking cake, frosted and ornamented
as if for a birthday. Really all it needed was an array of glittering
candles to make it perfectly realistic.
Sally mechanically broke off a bit of the frosting and put it between
her lips. To her astonishment, it tasted crisp and sweet, with rather
a flavor of pineapple, and altogether like the real thing. She broke
off another scrap and swallowed it. Another bit and another followed
the first and then suddenly Sally began to experience a very queer
sensation. She felt as if she were being screwed down and shrinking
together like a pair of opera glasses. So quickly did the whole thing
happen that before she knew it, she was standing in the kitchen of the
Walking House with the black, wooden Dinah gravely regarding her.
“Oh dear! Oh dear! What would have happened if I had eaten the whole
cake? And it’s a wonder I didn’t, it was such a little one!” exclaimed
Sally.
Just then she happened to look up, and beheld Peter Pan and Bedelia
regarding her with terrified glances. A great wave of loneliness swept
over the child and she burst into tears. In a moment Peter Pan and
Bedelia had each seized a fragment of cake and in less time than it
takes me to tell it were rapidly following Sally’s example. In about
two minutes they were enjoying the distinction of being the smallest
Teddy Bears on record.
Into the kitchen they scrambled after Sally, much to the bewilderment
of black Dinah, who had never anywhere seen such creatures as Teddy
Bears of that size, and was not at all sure that she liked them,
especially when they walked into the house and took possession of her
kitchen.
The first few days of Sally’s sojourn in the doll’s house were full of
events and also full of interest, and the little girl experienced all
the new sensations that always come with a change of scene and place.
Sally’s intimate and somewhat unique experience of nursery life had
really taught her nothing relating to existence in the doll’s house,
and the mode of living employed by the little people to whose number
she now apparently belonged.
She was, indeed, very much surprised to discover that in all respects
they resembled very closely the human species, with all their little
fads and fancies, jealousies and ambitions; and it was both amusing and
astonishing to encounter among the dolls that she herself had bought
for a few cents and dressed with her own hands in scraps obtained
from the rag-bag, personalities as striking and characteristic, as
distinguishing as those belonging to some of the famous people whose
lives she had studied with Miss Palmer during her history lessons. At
least so one would think from their own opinions of themselves.
The little girl was amazed to learn that all the dolls could read
and write and that those who were imported spoke French and German
fluently. In fact, one small Japanese doll who was rigged out in a
paper kimono and wide obi of the same material, jabbered away in
Japanese, with the result that none of the others could understand a
word she said. She always presided at afternoon tea, however, which
function they understood very well, as also the tiny cups of the
fragrant drink which she brewed for their benefit. Sally secretly
resolved to teach her English, which she later accomplished, much to
the gratitude of the lonely little foreigner.
The dolls’ handwriting was not at all like her own, as it did not
take Sally long to discover. It consisted of a number of queer little
hieroglyphics of infinitesimal size, which, as Sally afterward learned,
were known only to dolls and were so small, to wit, that nobody would
ever imagine that they were anything but foolish scrawling.