At the Doll's Hospital

 At the Doll's Hospital
by Anne P. L. Field

Five dear little dollies lay all in a row
In five little hospital cots,
They looked so pathetic, such objects of woe.
Those poor tiny suffering tots!
The doctor stood by with a bottle of glue,
And a brush made of softest of hair,
While a pretty trained nurse in a uniform blue
Gave the patients her tenderest care.

"This dolly," she said, "has been scalped by a boy-
The brother of dolly's Mamma-
But with one operation she's cured to our joy.
Without the least trace of a scar.
This celluloid doll had a terrible time,
She lot both her arms and her nose,
The way that that some people treat dolls is a crime,
It's worse then you'd ever suppose!

"And this one," she smiled, as she lovingly laid
Her hand on the white counterpane-
"Had china-blue eyes of a heavenly shade,
We hope we can match them again!
That dainty French lady is minus a leg,
A dog bit it off just for fun,
And not even waited her pardon to beg,
As a well-mannered dog should have done.

"That doll over there is a serious case,
She's made out of fine stockinet,
A kitten spilled shoe-blacking over her face
And we haven't got rid of it yet!"
Just then the doll's ambulance dashed to the door.
And the doctor and nurse rushed away,
So I, quite unable to see any more,
Bade the five little dollies good-day.