Was there ever a time when the first doll was born? Was there ever a
time when little boys and girls, especially little girls, did not love
dolls and did not have something of that nature to play with? It would
appear that dolls, or playthings somewhat like unto dolls, are as old as
babies themselves--that is to say, boys and girls, that ever since there
have been little children in the world there have been little things for
them to play with. And I never saw a sane person in my life who regrets
that it is so. It is not only amusing, it is inspiring to see the little
children making merry with their dolls and their toy animals and their
little express wagons and their wooden guns and their toy steam engines
and their whistles and their balloons and their brownies and their
jumping-jacks and their hobby-horses and a hundred and one other things.
[Illustration: MARY AND HER DOLLS.]
Mary had put away her dolls for the night and was cleaning the doll
house when papa came in.
“How many doll babies have you now, Mary?” he asked.
“I have five dolls now, papa,” said Mary, “but only one is a baby--that
is little Flossie. Robbie and Nell are three years old now; Mattie is
two and Jerusha is one year old. Flossie is now the only little baby.”
The Rev. Dr. Smithson smiled.
“Well,” he said after a time, “five dolls make a big family, I think.”
“I don’t,” said Mary quickly. “Rolla Mays has thirteen girls and two
boys in her doll family, and I haven’t but five in all!”
“I shouldn’t think,” said Dr. Smithson, “that Rolla would know what to
do with so many.”
“Why, papa, of course she does!”
“Mary,” said Dr. Smithson, looking thoughtfully at his little daughter,
“I have a little girl in my Sunday school class who hasn’t a single
doll. I thought you might like to give her one of yours. You could spare
one--couldn’t you?”
“Oh, papa, I couldn’t--not a one,” exclaimed Mary.
“Not one--when this poor little girl hasn’t any?”
“Oh, papa, I love my dolls so--how can I give them away?”
“You’d have four left--wouldn’t that be enough?”
Mary thought a long while before speaking. She looked distressed.
“Papa,” she said at last, “Mrs. Grant was over here the other day, and
she said that she wished you and mamma would give me to her because she
didn’t have any little girl of her own. You’ve got five children
yourself, papa--but would you give any of ’em away just because you
would have four left?”
Dr. Smithson took his little daughter in his arms and kissed her.
“No, dear,” he said; “papa wouldn’t give any one of his children away.
You may keep all of your dollies, and we’ll think of some other way to
help poor little Hattie.”
The next morning Mary said:
“Papa, I have thought it all out for Hattie. You know I have been saving
up a little money to buy me a little iron bank--but I can wait for that.
I have saved up fifty cents--don’t you think that will be enough to buy
a nice little dolly for Hattie, and let me keep my babies?”
Dr. Smithson knew that Mary had long been planning for the bank. So he
asked:
“Are you quite sure that you want to spend your money in this way?”
“Yes, papa, I’m very sure,” said Mary with a smile, though there was a
hint of sadness in her eyes.
Dr. Smithson and Mary bought Hattie a pretty doll. Hattie was overjoyed
when she saw it. Mary went back home, glad that her papa had understood
how she loved her dolls, and glad to find that not one of her beloved
children was missing.