The Valley of Lost Things
It was morning, and the sun shone as brightly as it had every day
since they came to Merryland; yet the stillness of the Seventh Valley
was so intense that the children became sober the moment they entered
it, and even the smile upon the little Queen's wax face looked
strained and out of place.
"The people here are either asleep, like the dolls, or run down, like
the animals," said Dot, sinking her voice to a whisper.
"There are no people," replied the Queen.
"Then what is the Valley for?" asked the girl.
"Wait a moment and you will see," was the answer.
The boat now drew near the shore, but the banks of the river were so
high and steep that they could see nothing above them, and Dot
thought at first they would be unable to land.
Presently, however, they reached a small place where the bank sloped
gently down to the water, and here the Queen stopped the boat and
asked the children to step out.
"Now follow me," said Her Majesty, when they had all landed. So they
walked up the sloping bank and found themselves upon a big, circular
plain as flat as a platter, which was thickly covered with thousands
and thousands of pins. There were no trees at all, but lying
scattered upon the ground were heaps and stacks of the most curious
things.
Nearest to Dot was a great pyramid of thimbles, of all sizes and made
of many different materials. Further on were piles of buttons, of all
shapes and colors imaginable, and there were also vast collections of
hairpins, rings, and many sorts of jewelry.
Tot noticed at his side a mammoth heap of lead pencils, some short
and stubby and worn, and others long and almost new.
"What does it all mean?" asked Dot, wonderingly, after she had gazed
about her.
"It is the Valley of Lost Things," answered the Queen.
"Oh!" said Dot.
"Oh!" echoed Tot.
And again they began looking with wide-open eyes.
"It is rather dangerous to walk on the pins," said the Queen; "so we
must choose some overshoes from this pile and put them on our feet.
There are so many pins lost that they cover the entire Valley, and
sometimes the points turn up and are liable to stick into your feet."
The pile of overshoes was quite near them, so they hunted through it
until they found the right sizes. Of course they could not get mates,
but that did not matter so much, if the soles were but thick enough
to keep the pins from sticking through.
When at last their feet were clad in lost overshoes they started to
walk through the Valley, and Tot was surprised to see so many heaps
of caps and coats that had been worn by boys.
"Where do they all come from?" he asked.
"Well," replied the Queen, "it seems boys in the big outside world
seldom hang up their caps and coats; so they are easily lost. Perhaps
if they knew they would get to this Valley, and could never be found
again, boys would be more careful."
"Would they?" asked Tot.
"I suppose so. Here is a big pile of pennies. I expect most of those
were lost by children, too."
"Let's take some!" cried Tot.
"No, indeed," said Dot, "if we took them they wouldn't be lost any
more."
"Won't they ever be found?" asked the boy.
"I think not," replied the Queen. "No one has ever been here but you,
and probably no stranger will ever come to this Valley again."
"It's all right for us to come," declared Tot.
"Why?" enquired the girl.
'"Cause we're lost, too!"
"So we are, Tot," said Dot, rather sadly; "but lost people are
usually found again, for I don't see any others here."
They walked a little farther on and saw a mass of broken toys lying
scattered about. There were dollies, too, for suddenly Tot made a
pounce and grabbed up a sorry looking doll with one arm broken, one
eye out and a scratched and battered face.
"I've found her!" he cried, joyfully; "I've found Jane! An' I'm going
to keep her, too."
"Is it really your doll?" asked the Queen, with some curiosity.
"Course it is," replied Tot; "I lost her."
"Then I do not see why you should not keep her with you; for, being
found, she doesn't belong here any more."
"Course not," said the boy, hugging the broken doll in his arms.
"There are a good many gloves and handkerchiefs lost," remarked Dot,
looking at the heaps lying around.
"Yes," replied the Queen; "and over at the further side of the Valley
are many piles of pocket-books, each pile as big as a haystack.
People are so careless with pocketbooks."
"Have they money in them?" asked the girl.
"Some have a great deal of money inside them, and some only a few
pennies. Others are stuffed with cards and samples and papers," said
the Queen. "I would take you to look at them, but we should have to
climb over a hill of lost needles, and I fear our overshoes would not
protect us from their sharp points."
"It's always hard to get at money," said Tot, with a sigh.
Among other things lying near her Dot now noticed a hurdy-gurdy, such
as she had seen musicians carrying around the streets. There was no
monkey with it, and it looked quite old and battered.
"I wonder how long it has been here, she remarked, thoughtfully.
"Play it, and see," suggested the Queen.
So Dot set the hurdy-gurdy up straight and turned the crank, when it
began playing in a jerky and wheezy manner a tune called "Silver
Threads Among the Gold."
"My! But that's an old tune," said Dot.
"It's rather pretty," declared the Queen, who had never heard the air
before. "Play another."
This time the tune was "Little Annie Rooney," and then followed
"Captain Jinks" and "Two Little Girls in Blue."
"I guess this hurdy-gurdy was lost before I was born," sighed Dot.
"It's certainly very old."