_Dolls Doctor and Toymender to Her Majesty the
Queen, and all other Potentates._
"Splendid!" shouted Dot, who was serving up the glue as if it had been
a kettle of soup, and who looked herself very like an overtoasted
cook.
Sam took the glue, and began to bustle about.
"Now, Dot, get me all the broken toys, and we'll see what we can do.
And here's a second splendid idea. Do you see that box? Into that we
shall put all the toys that are quite spoiled and cannot possibly be
mended. It is to be called the Hospital for Incurables. I've got a
placard for that. At least it's not written yet, but here's the paper,
and perhaps you would write it, Dot, for I am tired of writing and I
want to begin the mending."
"For the future," he presently resumed, "when I want a doll to scalp
or behead, I shall apply to the Hospital for Incurables, and the same
with any other toy that I want to destroy. And you will see, my dear
Dot, that I shall be quite a blessing to the nursery; for I shall
attend the dolls gratis, and keep all the furniture in repair."
Sam really kept his word. He had a natural turn for mechanical work,
and, backed by Dot's more methodical genius, he prolonged the days of
the broken toys by skillful mending, and so acquired an interest in
them which was still more favorable to their preservation. When his
birthday came round, which was some months after these events, Dot
(assisted by Mamma and Aunt Penelope), had prepared for him a surprise
that was more than equal to any of his own "splendid ideas." The whole
force of the toy cupboard was assembled on the nursery table, to
present Sam with a fine box of joiner's tools as a reward for his
services, Papa kindly acting as spokesman on the occasion.
And certain gaps in the china tea-set, some scars on the dolls' faces,
and a good many new legs, both amongst the furniture and the animals,
are now the only remaining traces of Sam's earthquake.