The Revolt of the Dolls
Dot and Tot awoke early, but the sun was already flooding the palace
with its silver rays, and they made haste to dress and join the Queen
at breakfast.
This meal was as dainty and satisfying as the one they had partaken
of the night before, and the wax Queen laughed and talked so
pleasantly that no one would have suspected she was about to
undertake a long journey.
"I shall try to return by sundown," she said to them, "so you will
only be alone during the day. I advise you to pass the time by
exploring the Valley, and if you wish to ride, the royal coachmen
will take you wherever you wish to go."
"May I ask a favor?" said Dot, timidly.
"Certainly, Princess; ask whatever you will," returned the Queen, as
she threw a scarlet cloak over her shoulders and prepared to start.
"I would like you to waken the dolls of the village before you go, so
that Tot and I may play with them," said the girl.
The Queen reflected a moment before she replied, "The dolls are often
mischievous when they have a whole day to themselves, and you might
find them troublesome. However, as you will be sure to enjoy their
merry pranks, I'll do as you wish, and leave you the dolls for
playmates."
"Oh, thank you ever so much!" cried Dot, gratefully.
The Queen now called the carriages and they all rolled down to the
main street of the village. Here her Majesty waved the magic wand
three times, and the dolls immediately awoke and began such a
chattering and such romping play that the Queen herself became
bewildered and ordered the coachman to hasten to the river bank.
Dot and Tot went with her to see her start upon her journey, and when
they had passed out of the big gate, which the wooden soldiers opened
for them with respectful salutes, the Queen said:
"I am going to borrow your boat, for it will be the easiest way for
me to reach the Valley of the Watch-Dog."
"But you can never row it up stream," said Dot; "and there is but one
oar."
"Oh, I shall not need the oars at all," responded the Wax Doll, and
seated herself in the boat.
"Do you know," said the girl, "that you have not yet told us your
name?"
"Didn't I tell you yesterday?" returned the Queen, as if surprised.
"No, indeed," said the girl.
"Well, that was very careless of me. I am so busy that sometimes I
forget to do things. But I must be going, so goodbye my dears; I hope
the dolls won't bother you too much."
"We shall enjoy them," replied Dot.
The Queen now waved her fairy wand and at once the boat glided from
the shore.
"Good-bye, your Majesty!" cried Dot and Tot together.
Swiftly the boat floated up the stream--so swiftly, indeed, that the
water rippled like music against the bow. The children waved their
handkerchiefs at the fairy doll until she had reached the arch
leading to the Valley of Babies, when they passed through the gateway
and, dismissing their coachmen, walked up the village street to visit
the dolls.
These were really becoming rather boisterous and ran about in
circles, playing "I spy," and blind-man's buff, and London Bridge
with much laughter and noise. When they saw Dot and Tot they ran up
to them and cried:
"Start the music box! We want to dance."
"I do not know how. The Queen has the key with her," answered Dot,
shouting loudly that she might be heard above the tumult.
The dolls seemed greatly disappointed at this, and one saucy-looking
wooden-jointed doll said crossly:
"The Queen has no right to go away and take the key. How are we to
amuse ourselves all day unless we can dance?"
"Tot and I will play with you," answered Dot.
"Very well," said a big China doll which wore a rather soiled and
ragged dress. "What new games do you know?"
Dot mentioned several; but the dolls laughed at her, crying out:
"That's old! We're tired of that! Give us something new!"
"The old games are very nice games," said the girl, "and I do not see
why you should object to playing them."
"We'll object if we want to!" declared a worn-looking kid doll, whose
joints were so ripped that they scattered sawdust whenever it moved.
"You're not our Queen."
"But I'm your Princess," said Dot, with dignity, "and while the Queen
is away I have the right to rule in this Valley."
"So have I," said Tot.
"Then rule!" shouted the saucy wooden doll. "Rule as the Queen does,
and give us music to dance by."
"Yes! yes!" they all cried. "We want to dance!" And they flung their
arms over their heads, and leaped and pranced so energetically that
the ground was quite strewn with sawdust that leaked out of them.
Dot was much troubled at the noisy demands of the dolls. She had
expected a quiet and happy day playing with these pretty creatures,
and now, even in the first hour of their awakening, they were proving
very troublesome. Tot seemed to enjoy the excitement, however, and
stood behind Dot, with his hands in his pockets, smiling gleefully.
While she was thinking what was best to be done, the rag doll
Scollops came up to Dot and said:
"Since the music box is locked up, why do you not order out the
pewter band to play for them?"
"That is a good idea," she exclaimed, her face brightening. "Go at
once, Scollops and tell the musicians to come and play."
While Scollops was on this errand the dolls became more noisy than
ever, and one of them tried to knock Tot's crown off. But the boy
gave the naughty doll such a strong push that he pushed over a dozen
or more that stood behind it.
"Don't hurt them, Tot," said the girl; "remember they are not strong
and will break easily."
"I'll smash 'em if they touch me!" cried the boy, indignantly; "I'm
Prince Tot."
Fortunately, the pewter band now made its appearance, and at Dot's
command they stood in a circle at one edge of the road and began to
play a waltz.
The effect of the music upon the dolls was laughable. They
immediately began waltzing around as merrily as could be, and paid no
further attention to Dot and Tot. While they danced the dolls kept up
a continual chattering and laughter, and they looked so sweet and
happy that the children could hardly realize they had been so cross
and unreasonable a short time before.
"If they are kept busy they won't get into mischief," said Scollops,
who had come back with the band; "but even her Majesty the Queen
cannot manage them when they have nothing to amuse themselves with.
I'm a doll myself and I know."
"What does she do when they are naughty?" asked Dot.
"She puts them to sleep," was the answer.
Dot had almost regretted asking the Queen to leave the village dolls
awake all day; but she loved to watch them dance, and they seemed
quite contented now.
"Don't they ever remain quiet, and visit with each other, and rest?"
asked the girl.
"Never," replied Scollops. "They always are unhappy unless they are
rushing around or playing or dancing."
"They wouldn't make very comfortable playmates, would they, Tot?" she
said.
"No," he answered, gravely; "don't like live dolls."
But it amused them to watch the little creatures capering about, so
the children sat down upon a door-step and enjoyed the dancing until
Twinkle came to tell them their luncheon was ready. Then they quietly
stole away, unnoticed by the dolls, and walked to the palace, where
they had a delightful luncheon and were waited upon by Scollops and
Twinkle.
While they were yet at the table they suddenly heard a great noise
and clamor at the palace gate, so they at once ran out to see what
was the matter. Crowding before the gates was an excited throng of
dolls, screaming and stamping and waving their hands in the air as if
they had really become crazy.
At first Dot could make nothing of their cries, for all were talking
at the same time; but she asked Twinkle what the trouble was about
and the maid answered, "The musicians must have stopped playing."
"I wonder why they did that," said the girl.
Here Scollops, who had been down to the gate and spoken to the dolls,
came up to Dot, bringing with him the leader of the pewter band.
"What caused this trouble?" she asked.
"They are so unreasonable," replied the musician, in a complaining
voice, "that no one can manage them except the Queen. We had played
dance music for several hours and were all tired out, for our lungs
are only pewter, and no true musician likes to play such common music
continually. So we thought we would rest ourselves by playing
something slow and really classical--for all classical music is slow,
you know. But no sooner had we started the introduction than those
soulless dolls became violent. They rushed at my poor musicians,
threw them down, and trampled upon them! Every member of my band is
either bent or broken. Even I have a bent back and a twisted leg, and
my horn is badly damaged."
Dot looked at him and saw that he spoke truly.
"I'm very sorry," she said, nervously. "I'm sure I don't know what to
do with them, for the Queen will not return before sundown."
The dolls had remained outside the palace gates until now; but as Dot
looked anxiously toward them, the gate flew open and one of the
rebellious creatures ran up the path to where the children stood. She
was dressed in a rather fussy way, and had big black eyes that stared
straight at one. Her hair was tangled and matted, and she had lost
one shoe and worn a great hole in her stocking, through which her
toes peeped out.
"What do you want?" asked Dot, as this doll came near.
"We want our dinner, of course," answered the doll, saucily.
"But I didn't know dolls could eat," said the girl.
"Well we do, and now we want to be fed. Do you think it is right and
proper to keep us awake all day and then refuse to give us any
dinner?"
"What do you eat?" enquired Dot.
"What could a doll eat but sawdust? Nearly all of us have danced more
or less sawdust out of our bodies, and now we want them filled up
again," continued the doll.
"But I have no sawdust, nor do I know where to get it," answered the
child.
"The Queen has a house full of it in the village. Give us the key and
we will help ourselves," said the doll.
"The Queen must have taken the key with her," returned Dot,
helplessly; "I know nothing about it."
"Then we shall break down the door," declared the doll, and stamping
her feet with anger she rushed back to her companions.
When they learned that the Queen had carried away the key to the
sawdust house the dolls became much excited and ran off with loud
shouts to tear down the door of the house.
Dot was both vexed and worried, for Twinkle declared the Queen would
be much provoked if her pretty house was battered and broken.
"Let's call out the army," exclaimed Tot, suddenly.
"That's a good idea, Tot," said the girl, and at once sent Scollops
to order the pewter soldiers to march into the village and preserve
order. But the rag boy soon returned with the news that the soldiers
refused to obey.
"They are not used to fighting," explained Scollops, "and they fear
the dolls will treat them as they did the pewter band. Besides, they
declare the Queen detests fighting, and would blame them for
interfering with the people of the village."
"The soldiers are toys and the people are dolls," added Twinkle; "so
they sympathize with each other."
"They didn't seem to sympathize with the band," said Dot.
"No, but the band had no right to play classical music in public."
"Perhaps you are right," said Dot, thoughtfully.
She saw now that she must let the naughty dolls have their own way;
but she went down the street with Tot and Scollops and watched the
crowd break down the door of the house. They took away quantities of
the Queen's sawdust and carried it to their homes, where they made it
into pies and cakes and feasted merrily upon this queer food.
This gave them something to do and made them happy for a while, and
Dot was profoundly grateful for a period of rest and quiet; but she
feared the dolls would break forth into more mischief before the day
passed, and so it proved.
For toward evening they again became restless, and as there was no
music to be had they decided to make some of their own. So they
gathered up a lot of tin pans for drums and pot covers for cymbals,
and several of the dolls got combs and put paper over them. When they
blew upon these combs and hummed a tune it sounded almost like music;
so they formed a procession, with the doll musicians at the head of
it, and marched all over the village, singing loudly:
Tum, tum--tum!
Tum, tum--tum!
Here comes the band with a tin-pan drum;
Here come the cymbals, clangety-clang!
Here come the combs with their twang, twang, twang!
Here come the marchers, happy and gay,
Strangers must keep out of our way!
Tum, tum--tum!
Tum, tum--tum!
Clatter the cymbals and bang the drum!
They marched up to the palace gate and back again, and when they came
to the house in which was the big music box, one of the cried, "Let
us break the door down and start the music!"
"Good, we will!" screamed some of the most mischievous dolls.
"What do we care for the Queen?" yelled others.
They made a rush for the house, and Dot, now angry and determined
that the Queen's music box should not be spoiled, ran to the door and
placed her back against it, while she cried out, "If any of you dare
to come nearer I will whip you soundly!"
The dolls hung back at this, but they threw a shower of tin pans and
combs and pot covers at her, which rattled against the house, but did
not hurt her a bit. Suddenly, amidst all this riot and turmoil, the
girl was amazed to see every doll become silent and motionless. They
ran in all directions to their homes, and as the street became clear
Dot saw, standing there alone, the Queen of Merryland, who was waving
for the third and last time the fairy wand which would put every doll
in the village fast asleep.
"Oh, your Majesty!" cried the girl, running to her, "I'm so glad
you've come home again!"