Little-Blue-Willow-Plate

Little Madame's Corner Cupboard filled with bits and boobs for tea time.

       The Little-Blue-Willow-Plate lived in the Corner Cupboard. Other things lived in the Corner Cupboard, too. Oh dear me, yes! There were quite ex-tra-or-di-na-ry things. There was Red-Tea-Pot that turned up its little spout-nose with such an air. There was Silver-Mug--not an ordinary Silver-Mug, mind you. And there was Crystal-Rose-Bowl. She was all rainbowy and lovely in the firelight. Cologne-Bottle was there, too, with her fine gold cap, to say nothing of Pink-China-Clock! Never mind if it did sing out size o'clock when it meant bedtime. It was an ex-traordinary-- a very ex-tra-or-di-nary Pink-China-Clock, you must know.

Little-Blue-Willow-Plate.

       And then, of course, there was Little-Blue-Willow-Plate. He was quite a common thing, the others thought. He had curious blue things all over him. He had little blue houses with peaked roofs. He had also little blue trees with blue apples that looked for all the world like balloons on a stem. Then there were little  blue bridges over little blue rivers and-I declare-little blue men trotting across. And over the little blue bridges and houses and trees were two blue beaks close together.

       "Dear me! Such a common creature!" snapped Red-Tea-Pot.
       "Such a crazy creature!" Silver-Mug siad.
       "Such an ugly creature!" declared Crystal-Rose-Bowl, thinking of her own beauty.
       "Such a queer creature!" cried Cologne-Bottle. While Pink-China-Clock just made an ugly face and clasped her hands, which was quite as if she had said, "That common thing is out of place. We are all fine and dainty. His place is in the kitchen among the pots and pans!"
       One day the Corner-Cupboard folk were chattering among themselves. Blue-Willow-Plate listening quietly in his place against the shelf.
       The Red-Tea-Pot began, "I am both useful and beautiful. No other tea-pot could take my place. Little Madame cannot do without me!" And the Tea-Pot blushed red with foolish pride.
       Silver-Mug, not to be outdone, said in the lordliest way, "I am silver. Solid Silver, I tell you! The lips of little princesses have touched me. Read my engraving! Behold my Royal Crest!"
       "Ah," murmured Crystal-Rose-Bowl, "I shouldn't want a Royal Crest. I have held the roses of a hundred summers. Just see how the firelight sets my colors dancing. They are the spirits of all those withered roses."
       "Nonsense!" cried Cologne-Bottle, who had stood it long enough. "I have scented the gowns of grand ladies. One drop of me is worth all of you. I hold the fragrance of a garden of violets. Gracious! Why can't you understand?"
       "Fie upon you all!" scolded Pink-China-Clock. "I was made in Switzerland. Who of you can say that? Kings have looked into my face for the time o' day. Ah me! To think I have come to live in a Corner-Cup-board!"
       Then because Red-Tea-Pot, Silver-Mug, Crystal-Rose-Bowl, Cologne-Bottle and Pink-China-Clock had seen better days, each and every one said, "Ah me! Ah me! Ahhhh me!"
       Now the Little-Blue-Willow-Plate had been listening all this time. He felt sorry from the bottom of his little blue heart. For, if he had a heart, I'm sure is must have been blue.
       So he said, "You poor dear things, you poor dear things!"
       At that, Red-Tea-Pot, Silver-Mug, Crystal-Rose-Bowl, Cologne-Bottle and Pink-China-Clock sat up very stiff and straight. They had almost forgotten Little-Blue-Willow-Plate. Almost, but not quite!
       And then--if you'll believe me--Red-Tea-Pot said this: "Tut, tut! Who are you but a common serving dish? Kitchen Crockery! Tut! Tut! Tut!" And if you will believe me--the others said in the same unkind way, 'Kitchen Crockery! Tut! Tut! Tut!"
       Just then, the wee glass door of the Corner Cupboard was opened. Little Madame was taking out -- the Blue-Willow-Plate! Two little voices cried, "Oh, what a sweet little dish! Tell us about it, Little Madame!" The two little voices belonged to two little girls.
       Little Madame held the Blue-Willow-Plate ever so carefully. How shiny and round it was in the firelight! Then she told a wondrous story--all about that Blue-Willow-Plate. She told them all about those little blue houses and bridges and trees and birds and the little men crossing the bridge. Oh yes, and she told them all about the prettiest little princess!
       It was such a wondrous story that little girls said "Ohs" and "Has" with very round mouths.
       "Now," finished Little Madame, "we shall fill Blue-Willow-Plate with cookies and have a tea-party." And you know how little girls like tea-parties!
       I suppose you think that the Blue-Willow-Plate was put back in the Corner-Cupboard? Well, it wasn't. For ever after that little Blue-Willow-Plate lived on the friendly mantelpiece. And everybody who came to Little Madame's fireside said: "What a dear little plate!"

• See our family's blue and white chinaware for dolls...
• Read About The Blue Dolly's Wedding Party
• Printable Blue China Plate poem

Printable Clock Faces

Free clock faces with either Roman Numerals or regular number symbols.

       These printable clock faces may be used for clocks and watches, depending upon the crafts you are making. You will need to mark the center of the face and poke a hole through each print to insert clock hands or you can just draw these on if you prefer.

Early 19th Century Dolls

       Dolls which predominated during the first forty years of the nineteenth century had heads made of papier-mache, sawdust-stuffed kid or cloth bodies, extremely narrow at the waist, and long spindley wooden arms and legs. China heads and wooden peg-jointed dolls were also sold, and some of the latter boasted china heads. From about 1840, china, wax, then wax over papier-mache were popular, bisque taking the lead as soon as costs decreased. 

Example of wax grave doll.

       In the nineties of the last century and on into the twentieth century, bisque headed dolls were by far the most in demand. They had come within the reach of almost everyone.

       Many novelty dolls appeared at intervals during the whole of the nineteenth century. In the year 1827, Malzel made possible the first successful "mamma-papa" speaking doll (earlier experiments had been made) and at about the same time, 1826, "walking" and "sleeping" dolls were invented. Eyes were first made to open and shut by pulling a string, but after 1826, the counter-balance weight idea came into use. Since the old method continued to be followed for some time, one is apt to think that the counter-balance weight was a later invention. It has even been stated that the latter was not in general use until the 1890 's, a statement easily disproved by many examples in existence long before 1890.

       Patents for "crying" and "singing" dolls were issued in the United States from the 1860 's on. Among the most interesting were the Webber singing dolls, the patent dates for which began about 1882. It operated by means of a bellows arrangement and had only to be squeezed to emit cute little popular tunes of the day. The W. A. Harwood crying doll of 1877 operated by blowing into a reed mouthpiece inserted in the breast of the doll.

       In 1893, J. P. King of Philadelphia, Pa., patented an ingenious method of producing a crying sound. Two rubber bulbs, one containing air, one water, the whole surrounded by tubes with reeds inserted therein, were placed in the body of the doll. Pressure on the bulbs caused a realistic wail. Old dolls with simple little bellows inside their bodies are legion, but the more complicated are difficult to find.

       As early as 1888 a phonograph doll was invented. In that year, William W. Jacques of Newton, Mass., patented a combined doll and phonograph.

(18) Bisque-headed walking-talking doll of the late 19th 
century. Note winding key at the right of the undressed
doll and patent symbols on soles of the doll's shoes.

       We are prone to think of the nursing doll that "drinks" from a bottle, such as the Betsy-Wetsy and Dy-Dee, as entirely modern, but the idea is not new. In 1890, Rudolph Steiner of Sonneberg, Germany, patented just such a doll in America. While the manner of elimination was a little different, the same idea was utilized. The Steiner doll siphoned the milk from a bottle, the long end of the siphon coming out from the back of the neck, down the spinal column, and ending in a pan placed under the seat.

       Patents for creeping dolls were granted in March, 1871, to Robert J. Clay, and in August of the same year, to George P. Clarks, both of New York City. They were operated by clock-work mechanism. From the patent drawings, one would judge the Clay doll to be the more interesting. 

       The number of walking dolls of the nineteenth century is legion. Most of these acquired their accomplishment by means of mechanical equipment, and some bear the patent date. One showing the E. R. Morrison patent of 1862 has a most interesting china head with flowers molded on. It winds with a key, as so many of them did, and walks for an astonishing length of time around a wide area. Some have Parian heads.

       Mrs. William Knobloch of Washington, D. C, is the proud possessor of a fascinating bisque-headed walking doll (about 20 inches in height) which not only steps along at a lively pace, but repeats in English (although she is a French doll) "Hello, hello, hello!" at the same time moving her head from side to side and bringing up her arms to an inviting outstretched position. 

German bisque head doll with glass eyes and real hair wig.

      Two of the most interesting walkers of the nineteenth century which do not have clock-work mechanism are the A. W. Nicholson doll of 1869, and the Henry C. Work doll of 1873. Patent drawings of these two dolls are given here in order to show how they work. The heads of the actual dolls found do not look like those in the patent sketches. For instance, at least one specimen of the Nicholson doll has a beautiful china head with flowers molded on. Such dolls are apt to be found with the china legs entirely missing. This of course does not affect the forward motion. Patent for the Work doll of 1873 calls for either simple movement‚ pushing or pulling with the hand‚ or, if the manufacturer desired, clock-work mechanism. The latter was evidently not used, for those found in collections are the simple kind. The idea of the rotating wheel of legs was also used for a paper doll of the twentieth century.

       Patents for automatic walking dolls were granted here in 1826, '62, '69, '73, '75, '86 and '96. Twentieth century walkers, as a rule, do not have clock-work mechanism or wheels.

       In 1902, E. U. Steiner of Brooklyn, N. Y., invented the first of the walking dolls to perform by merely holding its hand and giving it a slight lateral sway as one walked with it. This was followed by the more simply constructed Schoenhut walking doll of 1913, then by the clumsy "Dolly Walker" patented in 1917 by Harry H. Coleman, a ventriloquist. In 1933, the Ee-Gee Company of New York brought out an unexceptional walker, and a few years later, the loveliest of the modern walking dolls was placed on the market by the Alexander Doll Company of New York City. It was designed by Mrs. Adel Tongren of Grand Rapids, Michigan. This doll, Jeannie Walker, was a well-proportioned "child" that could "sit, stand and walk like a perfect little lady."

Jumeau baby from a Paris Museum

       Other dolls which performed without elaborate mechanism were the "flirting-eye" doll, used by Jumeau as early as 1895, still used in America; the clown doll (German) which clapped cymbals and squeaked at the same time by a simple pressure of his "tummy;" the recent "magic hand" doll which picks up things by means of magnetic steel hidden under the finish of the hand; the "beating-heart" doll of 1941; and "Dy-Dee and Betsy-Wetsy" of about the same time. Music boxes concealed in the bodies of dolls and stuffed animals were popular in the thirties of this century.

       The art of making automata, in existence as early as the third century B. C, was revived and utilized for "play" dolls all through the nineteenth century. Attached music boxes added to the interest. An early "Jumeau" dressed as a hunter, still operating, can blow his horn and nod his head while his music box plays "Toreador," loudly and long; another, a lady, can raise a beautiful bouquet of flowers to her nose and alternately lift a fan with the other hand; ladies at a tea party pick up tiny cups and bring them to their lips; a wee woman sits at a miniature piano and plays; a bisque-headed little girl in a swing moves back and forth to bellows music; eighteenth century ladies in a "coach and two" bow their heads to the audience while an elegant coachman proudly drives his horses round and round a large table; and there are dolls galore‚ relatively speaking‚ which can curtsey and dance to music.

       Creeping dolls seem to be America's specialty, although most of them are short lived. Off and on for the last forty years street vendors in large cities have cried their wares while these little performers crawled away on the side- walk until their clock-work mechanism slowed down and stopped. The cheap ones were soon out of order.

       Movable figures and toys have always delighted grown-ups as well as children. Before the eighteenth century, they were made mostly for adults, if we except the costly affairs made for children of the rich. In Arabia and Byzantine before the year 1,000 A. D., there were artificial birds that sang and flapped their wings, dogs which could wag their tails, and dolls that could move. For the child of these early days, and later ones too, for that matter, there were the jumping- jack, the corn-grinder and the fist-puppet, none of which needed delicate mechanism. Today we still have the jumping-jack and the fist-puppet and many other toys moved by the simple methods employed by the Egyptians two thousand years before the birth of Christ. And the child now enjoys a greater number of more complicated mechanical toys. The nineteenth century brought a great increase in these products.

(23) German bisque-headed, kid-bodied doll, late 19th century. Courtesy Mrs. Franklin Hill Davis, Washington, D. C. (24) French doll of the 1800's with unusual joints. They are of wood, covered with kid. (25) China-headed peddler doll, circa 1840, made to represent the vendor who hawked his wares about the streets, selling everything imaginable, from hand-made lace, scarfs, ribbons, etc.. to books on various subjects. (26) "The Working Doll." This was mentioned in a French hook of 1S64, long since out of print. (27) Jumeau doll of 1S70, Courtesy Mrs. Henry A. Diamant. This doll was purchased by the owner many years ago. Slip has her original costume. (2S) French bisque-headed doll, circa 1S90. (29) Doll with bisque head, arms, and legs, circa ISSO's. Her dress was removed to show her dainty bisque legs.

        Between the years 1860 and 1900, a number of dolls with two to five faces were manufactured, and, within the last few years, Japan exported two-faced baby dolls, one with a crying, one with a sleeping face. The head revolves in a socket. The earlier multi-faced dolls were made to turn faces by means of a string attached to a revolving pin. Sketches in the chapter on Wax Dolls will give an idea of the method of construction. In the late sixties and early seventies of the last century a number of patents were issued for multi-faced dolls; one firm, M. Bru of France, took out three patents of this kind during those years. Germany used the idea, and one German firm took out a patent in this country (1881) for a double-faced wax doll. Domino Checkini of New Haven, Conn., patented a four-faced doll in 1866. His dolls had wax faces.

       Although Germany dominated the world of dolls during the nineteenth century and earlier, each country was noted for a particular kind‚ England for her wax and rag dolls, Holland for her wooden ones, "Flanders' babies" as they were called; Germany for her china-heads, papier-mache and wooden dolls, and France for her bisque and papier-mache.

       Before the First World War, America made few dolls. There were some of composition, rubber, cloth, wood, described in the chapters dealing with each particular type. However, as noted elsewhere, several American firms made doll bodies to be used with heads imported from Germany. One firm, Gold-smith of Covington, Ky., employed German workmen to make wax and composition heads in its own factory.

       It is from the nineteenth century that collectors of antique dolls obtain most of their treasures, and every period of the century produced interesting ones. It has been said by inexperienced collectors "I do not buy any dolls marked ''Germany'' they are so common." What a mistake! There are some lovely, and also uncommon ones with this mark, specimens in flesh-colored china with beautiful coloring and well defined features. But any doll that has been loved and played with is interesting; so also are its little clothes. As Sappho said, in ancient times, when she dedicated her doll to Aphrodite: "Aphrodite, despise not my doll's little purple neckerchief. I, Sappho, dedicate this precious gift to you!" Perhaps, in days to come, when all present collections will have passed into the hands of persons still unborn, there will be amongst them some who will despise neither these "common" dolls nor "their little purple neckerchief." Fawcett

  Return to the Doll Guide Index Page 

A Doll's Christmas by C. N. Lurie

Santa over 120 years ago.

        One Christmas eve a wax doll sat on a chair In a pretty room In which a number of children were in bed. A fire was burning on the hearth. Stockings were hanging on the mantel to be filled with toys for the children who were sleeping soundly, doubtless dreaming of what they were to receive in the morning. The face of one of them, a delicate, fair haired boy, was turned toward the doll, and she did not tire looking at it, for the face, though pale and thin, was very delicately molded. On the mantel were two figures in porcelain. One was a boy in an old fashioned coat and knee breeches, with; a sash around his waist and a cocked hat and feather. His right hand was thrust into his coat in front, and he looked like a figure of Napoleon. The other was a girl, with a short dress and a sailor hat. Her head was poised one side, and she looked very well satisfied with herself. Indeed, she was very pretty.

        "How do you do?" said the girl china figurine to the doll. Don't you think this a pleasant room?
       ''Indeed it is, but I've not see many. I was only born‚" She paused to think again when she was born, but couldn't remember, so she said instead, "Isn't it a beautiful world?"
       "Do you think so?" said the boy. "My sister and I have had a hard time getting into it. We were baked in a furnace, and it was so hot!
       "Well, don"t tell me about it," interrupted the doll. "I'd rather hear about pleasant places."
       The figures told her a great many things, but the girl was very vain of her beauty, and the boy was taken up with what he knew about the world, of which the doll knew nothing at all, so she didn't listen long, but fell asleep while they were talking.
       Suddenly she awoke with a start. What was that noise in the chimney? She had scarcely time to think about it when out on the hearth popped a little figure in fur. He unstrapped a pack he carried and filled all the stockings with toys. Then he jumped back into the chimney and was gone in a twinkling. This set the doll to wondering more than ever. Everything was again silent except the clock, which ticked very loud. There were the children asleep in bed, the little pale faced boy with his head resting on his arm, the girl figurine on the mantel with her head on one side thinking how pretty she was and the boy thinking how much he knew about the world. The doll soon went to sleep again.
       In the morning she was awakened by a shouting. The children were running about in their night clothes, taking their toys from thier stockings and chattering like monkeys. The fair haired boy sat up in bed and looked on, for he was to delicate to get up like the other children. The doll noticed that he had great blue eyes, which seemed ever so large as he looked wonderingly at all that was going on. Then there came a knocking on the wall, and the children knew that it was a signal for them to get back to bed and not take cold, and back they scrambled, laughing and tumbling over one another, and covered themselves up. Presently the father and mother came in and distributed the toys. The doll was for one of the girls, but the boy insisted on having it himself. Then when all were loaded with presents they carried them down to the breakfast room.
       What a day it was! The children were racing about, playing with their toys, and people were coming in continually to see the presents, and the sun shone brightly on the snow outside, and the fire shone brightly with in on the brass andirons and fender, and after dinner stories were told the children till they were all astonished by the number of wonderful things that happened. The boy with the light hair and blue eyes lay in his mother's arms, hugging the doll with her breast pressed against his, so that she could
hear his heart bent, and site wondered why there was no such beating in her own heart. This was the happiest moment she had ever known. She was only a day old, but something told her that nothing in the world could ever make her happier.
       When the children went upstairs the boy insisted on keeping the doll by him till he got into bed, when his mother persuaded him to part with it till morning. She placed It on a chair before the fire where he could see it till he should go to sleep and the first thing on awakening In the morning. When the children were all asleep the doll looked up from the chair at the images on the mantel. She was too happy to go to sleep.
      "What a lovely day I have had.'' she said.
       Just wait," replied the boy china figure until you have been knocked about the world awhile and you'll see." He looked as wise as an owl.
       I think it very nice.'' said the girl figurine "so long as you are young and pretty, but I don't like the idea of getting old and cracked, perhaps having my arms or legs broken off.''
       The wind was rising outside, and suddenly they were blazed with a cheerful warmth. It was very pleasant for awhile, but presently it seemed to be too hot. The doll thought she began to feel a softening In her feet. She didn't know what it meant, but it frightened her. It extended to her legs; then she felt it in her arms and at last in her face and neck. A log of wood fell down on the coals, and they were burning higher and hotter than ever. The doll felt herself melting away.
       "You're going,"  said the boy figurine from the mantel. "It's Just as well; the world isn't all like this household."
       It's just as well," echoed the girl figurine. Your beauty will not have to fade."
       I don' t want to go," cried the doll mournfully. I want to stay with my blue eyed boy. The world may be full of sadness, but there must be pleasure as well, for it is here."
       There was something so plaintive In her voice that even the china figures refrained from any further remarks. The fire blazed hotter, and the wax, which had only yet only softened, began to melt. Something spattered on the floor. It was a drop of melted wax. Oh, that her little boy would get up and move her back from the fire! But he slept on peacefully, and as she had no voice for real children she couldn't call to him.
       So the doll felt that she was melting away. Drip, drop she fell on the floor. The room, with Its rich hangings, the children sleeping, the firelight flickering, the shadows and, above all, the memory of her brief existence‚ for, after all, a doll can only exist‚ seemed to be gradually fading away. She sighed to think that she couldn't have been born with it soul, to be loved and go on loving forever; that she could not grow up like a real child to see the unfolding of all the wonderful things in the world, passing from one existence to another instead of going out altogether. Then she thought that she might never have been born at all. never have had the one glimpse of the happy household, the one Christmas, the blue eyed boy and her single day of love. So she said: "I can't understand it. I will try not to murmur, but trust that it is all for the best."
       And then‚ she awoke! The horror of melting had only been a dream. She had fallen asleep before the hot fire, but some kind hand had drawn the chair back, and in a few moments she was again clasped in the fond arms of her blue eyed boy.

The Birthday Party

        Ellen  was  having  a  party  and  the  Popover family  was  as  excited  as  if  it  were  their  own.
       In  the  first  place,  their  house  had  been  dusted and  set  in  order  from  top  to  bottom,  and  in  the second  place,  every  one  of  them  had  been  dressed in  something  new  or  bright  in  honor  of  the  day.
       Mr.  Popover  had  a  bright  green  ribbon  tied about  his  neck.  This  was  becoming  to  Mr. Popover  because  his  natural  color  was  a  soft  brown.
       Mrs.  Popover  wore  about  her  shoulders  a pretty  pink  shawl.  It  was  made  of  a  scrap  of ribbon  that  Aunt  Amelia  had  given  to  Ellen and  that  had  been  used  for  several  days  as  a cover on  the  Popovers'  dining-table.
       'It  is  a  beautiful  table  cover,'  said  Ellen thoughtfully,  'but  you  really  need  something new  for  the  party.   And  we  can  always  put  it back  on  the  table  again.   People  often  do  such things,  you  know.'
       Mrs.  Popover's  face  wore  a  pleasant  smile, so  it  is  quite  likely  that  she  agreed  with  all Ellen  said.
       Velvetina  Popover  was  really  splendid.  Over her  pink  velveteen  dress  she  wore  white  mosquito netting  that  stood  out  roundabout  in  the  most party-like  way.  In  her  hair  was  fastened  a  little white  feather  that  Ellen  had  pulled  from  the pillow  on  her  bed.
       'You  are  almost  as  beautiful  as  a  bride,'  murmured Ellen,  turning  Velvetina  slowly  round and  round.
       Mrs.  Popover  thought  so  too,  but  she  wouldn't say  it  aloud  to  Velvetina  for  fear  of  making  her vain.
       Baby  Popover  was  the  most changed for the party. He  was  in  yellow,  wrapped  round  and round like  a  little  cocoon,  and  finished  off  on  top  by  a tall  yellow  cap.  Ellen  really  took  more pains with  Baby  Popover's  costume  than  with  any of  the  others,  but  she  was  well  satisfied  when once  her  work  was  done.
       Indeed  she  was  pleased  with  all  the  Popover family.  She  placed  them  carefully  in  their Little  Red  House,  Mr.  Popover  sitting  in  the parlor,  Mrs.  Popover  standing  beside  the  kitchen stove,  Baby  Popover  lying  in  his  cradle, and  Velvetina  setting  the  table  for  tea.
       "The  company  will  be  here  in  a  moment,' said  Ellen,  who  was  herself  dressed  in  her  best white  frock.  'And  I  want  them  all  to  think  you are  the  nicest  dollies  that  ever  were.'
       Soon  the  company  came,  five  little  girls,  the daughters  of  Aunt  Amelia's  friends,  and  when they  saw  the  Doll  House  and  the  Popover family  living  inside,  they  liked  it  quite  as  well as Ellen  had  hoped  they  would.
       They  played  with  the  Popovers  for  a  long, long  time.  They  gave  them  a  tea-party.  They took  them  out  for  a  walk.  They  put  the  Popovers  to  bed  with  measles.  They  cured  them and carried  them  down  to  the  beach.
       The  Popovers  spent  a  pleasant  hour  with  the five  little  girls  and  Ellen.  And  the  five  little girls  and  Ellen  enjoyed  the  Popovers  so  well that  they  were  surprised  when  Aunt  Amelia called them  into  the  dining room  to  eat  ice cream and  cake  and  drink  lemonade.
       Then  they  all  went  into  the  garden  where they  played  games  and  ran  about  and  tried  to climb  the  apple  tree  until  it  was  time  to  go home.
       When  the  party  was  over  and  she  had  had  her supper,  Ellen  went  to  bed.  She  was  tired out,  so tired  that  she  didn't  even  say  good-night  to  the Popovers.
       But  the  Popovers  were  not  tired,  not  they.
       'It  really  seems  a  pity,'  said  Mrs.  Popover, 'when  we  are  all  dressed  and  the  house  is clean that  we  shouldn't  have  a  party  ourselves.'
       'Why  can't  we  have  a  party?'  asked  Mr. Popover.  'What  is  the  reason  we  can't  have  a party as  soon  as  every  one  has  gone  to  bed?'
       'There  is  no  reason,'  was  Mrs.  Popover's answer.
       And  on  hearing  this  good  news  Velvetina  clapped  her  hands  and  little  Loo-Loo  bounced in his  cradle  as  if  he  would  say,  'Oh,  do  let  us have  a  party,  do.'
       'Isn't  it  your  birthday,  my  dear?'  asked  Mr. Popover  of  his  wife.  'It  seems  to  me  that you  haven't  had  a  birthday  in  a long,  long time.'
       'Perhaps  it  is  my  birthday,'  answered  Mrs. Popover  after  a  moment's  thought.  'I  have been  so  busy  since  we  moved  downstairs  that  I have  really  lost  all  track  of  time.'
       'We  will  call  it  your  birthday,  then,'  decided Mr.  Popover,  'and  have  a  party  as  soon  as Peanut  comes.'
       Mrs.  Popover  at  once  bustled  round,  preparing refreshments  for  the  party.  Fortunately, that afternoon,  one  of  the  little  girls  had dropped  a  large  currant  cake  under  the  table  in the playroom.
       'Just  the  thing  for  our  refreshments,'  said Mrs.  Popover  as  she  spied  it  lying  there.  'Mr. Popover,  if  you  will  bring  in  that  cake,  I  will set  the  table.'
       She  spread  out  her  very  best  china  and  glass. The  table  looked  well  when  she  had  finished.
       And  then  Peanut  came.
       He  had  heard  the  noise  of  the  party  that  afternoon. He  had  even  had  a  peep  at  the  five little girls  and  Ellen,  though  of  course  they  hadn't seen  him.  But  Brownie  didn't  care  to  hear about  that  party  when  once  he  had  learned  that this  was  Mrs.  Popover's birthday,  and  that  she had  been  waiting  for  him  to  come  before  beginning the  celebration  of  it.
       He  drew  Mr.  Popover  aside  at  once.
       'Have  you  presents  for  Mrs.  Popover?'  he asked.
       'Presents?'  said  Mr.  Popover.   'No.'
       'There  are  always  presents  at  birthday  parties,' said  Peanut.
       So  all  the  family,  except  Mrs.  Popover,  set out  to  look  about  the  play-room  for  birthday presents.  Mr.  Popover  carried  Loo-Loo,  and Peanut  and  Velvetina  walked  hand  in  hand.
       Mrs.  Popover,  alone  at  home,  spent  most  of the  time  peeping  out  of  the  window  at  her family  strolling  about.  She  couldn't  help  it,  she did  so  want  to  know  what  they  would  find.
       When  they  came  back  Mrs.  Popover  was  delighted with  her  presents.
       First  of  all  there  was  a  clock.  It  was  a  small toy  watch  that  Ellen  sometimes  wore  on  a string  about  her  neck.  But  hung  upon  the  wall of  the  Popovers'  living-room  it  answered  the purpose  of  a  clock  very  nicely.
       'I  have  always  wanted  a  clock,'  said  Mrs. Popover,  'but  I  never  thought  I  should  really have  one.  Now  if  we  ever  move  near  a  school, I  can  promise  the  teacher  that  Velvetina  will never  be  late.'
       Then  there  was  a  candy  box,  a  small  blue candy  box,  empty,  it  is  true,  but  of  great  use, Mrs.  Popover  declared.  
       'I  can  use  it  as  a  couch,  with  sofa  cushions, or  as  a  trunk  to  hold  our  clothes,'  said she.
       Loo-Loo  and  Velvetina  each  had  a  flower  for their  mother.  Peanut  had  scrambled  up  to  a bowl  on  the  table  and  thrown  the  flowers  down on  the  floor  to  them.
       Every  one  was  happy  when  they  sat  down  in the  dining-room  at  the  table  to  eat  their  refreshments. They  were  so  happy  that  they  laughed happily  together  as  they  nibbled  at  the currant cake.
       Perhaps  they  laughed  too  loudly.  Perhaps they  scraped  their  chairs  upon  the  floor.  Perhaps Velvetina's  merry  little  voice  grew  a trifle shrill.
       At  any  rate,  in  the  very  midst  of  the  party, they  heard  footsteps  coming  down  the  hall.
       It  was  Uncle  Henry.  They  all  knew  him  by the  flapping  of  his  slippers  as  he  came.  Had they  wakened  him  from  his  sleep?
       Straight    to    the   play-room   walked   Uncle Henry.  He  snapped  on  the  light.  He  peered about  the  room  on  the  floor  in  every  nook  and corner.
       'I  thought  I  heard  a  mouse'  said  Uncle Henry.
       From  a  crack  in  the  floor  two  bright  black  eyes peeped  out.  But  of  good  little  Peanut Uncle Henry  saw  not  a  sign.
       He  looked  into  the  Doll  House.  The  Popovers  stood  stiff  and  straight  where  Ellen  had left  them  that  afternoon.
       'Hum !  Crumbs ! '  said  Uncle  Henry.
       Then  off  he  flapped  down  the  hall  to  bed.
       In  the  morning  Ellen  did  not  know  what  to think  of  her  Doll  House.
       I  didn't  leave  crumbs  about'  said  Ellen to  Aunt  Amelia,  who  had  come  to  set  a  mousetrap in  a  corner  of  the  play-room.  'And  I  don't remember  hanging  my  watch  in  the  living room  nor  putting  my  blue  candy  box  here. Don't  you  think  it  is  strange,  Aunt Amelia?
       'I  know  I  didn't  leave  the  Doll  House  so'
       'Perhaps  the  Popovers  could  tell  you  how  it happened'  suggested  Aunt  Amelia.
       But  Ellen  didn't  even  ask  the  Popovers  because she  knew  very  well  that  they  wouldn't  tell.

Velvetina and Peanut.

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Manipulating A Colony of Bees

Manum swarm-catcher.

       Having now considered the inmates of a hive, the hive itself, and the several parts and the tools for manipulating the same, it is now in order to take up the manipulation of the hive, or the handling of a colony of bees.

       The average beginner at this point may feel that he has a job on his hands. He may get stung, when his face will be disfigured so that he will not be presentable to company. While we do not deny he may get stung, the one who tries for the first time to handle bees should protect his hands with gloves and his face with a veil. not because they are absolutely essential, but because it will take away that feeling of fear that might cause him to make a false move and thus incite the bees to sting.

       If he will follow the directions that we are now about to give he should not receive a single sting even in his clothing. First of all, it is important that he select a warm day, between ten and three o'clock. After having lighted his smoker, he should put on his veil and gloves and approach his hive. He should be sure that the smoker delivers a blue smoke. The best fuel we have found is old rags or greasy waste, which can be had for the asking at almost any machine shop. The smoke of this is not pungent, but is a bluish white and quite opaque. Care should be taken not to work the smoker bellows too hard, as otherwise the fuel will burst into flame.

       With the smoker just right, blow three or four puffs of smoke into the entrance, and in doing it be careful not to blow in too much smoke, otherwise you will start the bees in the hive on a stampede, especially if they are blacks or hybrids. While bees will not sting in this condition it renders subsequent manipulation exceedingly difficult.

       The next movement is to take the screwdriver or hive tool and pry the cover up about a sixteenth of an inch‚ not wider, because the bees would escape. Through the gap so made between the cover and hive itself blow in a couple of puffs of smoke. Next gently lift up the cover, following the movement with perhaps two or three light puffs of smoke, it is just as important not to use too much smoke as not enough.

       One may now proceed to lift out individual frames. If they are stuck together on account of the bee glue a little smoke may be required to follow each operation in separating the frames; but usually the smoker can be set down alongside the hive, and frame after frame be lifted out without receiving a single sting.

       Care should be taken not to pinch any bees. Always place the fingers at some point where there are no bees. If they are very numerous gently brush them over to one side by pushing the fingers down between them, being careful not to pinch them in doing it.

       After one has opened a hive a few times he will be able to discard the gloves, and later he can dispense with the veil at times, because he will find that an intelligent use of the smoker will do more to eliminate stings than any other one thing. After one has acquired a sense of freedom and knows the bees will not sting, he can work over them for hours at a time, getting more real joy out of his pets than from anything else on the place.

Hive for extracted honey, shallow frames.

• The Behavior of Bees
  
• The Old Way of Keeping Bees
• Tools for Handling Bees

Dolls from Automatic Toy Works, 1882

        We present this revised and enlarged edition of our Illustrated Catalogue to the Trade, confidently believing that it will be of service in the selection of Mechanical toys and Novelties which have gained so great favor and are now so popular in this country and abroad. In style, finish and dress of our figures, we have made very many improvements and have added several new kinds to our list. In the partiality which has been universally shown in favor of our Toys, and the constantly increasing demand for them, we find an incentive to more than sustain their reputation in the future.
       The Toys represented in this Catalogue are all mechanical and are set in motion, on being wound up, by patent movements.
       Each Toy is packed in a substantial wooden box, and will be sent, postpaid, to any address on receipt of price where our goods are not found with dealers.
       Discount rates sent to the trade on application.

Automatic Toy Works,
20 College Place
New York City, U.S.A.

Creeping baby price $5.00.

       This unique toy, when wound up, creeps and imitates the movements of a baby in the most natural manner, moving its hands and feet alternately as it passes along, and as it occasionally turns its face towards the spectator, the resemblance to life is almost startling. Delights and pleases both old and young. Durably and elegantly made. Each doll is carefully packed in a substantial wooden box. Parents and friends of little girls send for one of these delightful dolls.

This is a combination of the toys most coveted
 by little girls, Price $3.50.

       This domestic picture is perfect in miniature. No grandmother, with all her experience, ever rocked a cradle more naturally or with move tranquilizing effect. While she rock the cradle with her foot, with one hand she fans the infant sleeper, and with the other hand wiped her face with the handkerchief, and occasionally turns her head and views the situation with approval.

The delight of all girls. A charming toy, and
 beautifully finished, Price $3.50.

       A little girl will appreciate this mother figure seated at a cabinet sewing-machine. On winding up the mechanism her feet begin to work the treadle, and the sewing machine begins to sew rapidly; she leans forward, puts the work in position, watches it, occasionally rising up and bringing the work up to examine it. These movements are repeated for a long time. The little figure is elegantly dressed in the latest fashion. It combines the attractiveness of a beautiful French doll with the interest of life-like motion.

The Mechanical Bear, Price $4.25.

       This wonderful toy imitates the movements of a bear, by means of clock-work, in the most life-like manner. The bear rises up on its hind legs, turns its head from side to side, growls, moves its paws, and snaps its jaws together. At internals it gets down on its fore-paws and goes through similar motions. It runs a long time, and while going it is difficult to believe it is not alive. It is elegantly made, and covered with fine fur. The mechanism is so strong and perfect, that only the greatest abuse can put it out of order. It amuses old and well as young, and its exceedingly attractive for a show window. It is conceded to be one of the most ingenious toys ever invented, on account of its variety of motion and resemblance to nature. Made in black and white fur.

 Return to the Doll Guide Index Page 

Cherry Jam

        Aunt  Amelia  was  going  to  the  city,  shopping, and  Ellen,  with  Caroline,  was  to  stay  at  home.
       Ellen  didn't  mind,  for  she  had  a  busy  day  before her.  She  was  making  a  summer  house  for the  Popovers  out  under  the  apple  tree.  She  had gathered  little  stones  and  pebbles  wherever  she might  find  them.  She  had  a  whole  pailful,  a red  seashore  pail  filled  to  the  brim.  She  meant  to fence  off  a  bedroom,  a  living room,  and  a  kitchen for  the  Popover  family  that  very  morning.
       'The  Popovers  need  country  air,'  said  Ellen, 'and  this  is  the  best  air,  under  the  apple  tree.'
       Aunt  Amelia  and  Ellen  stood  on  the  porch steps  saying  good-bye.
       'Do  just  what  Caroline  tells  you,'  said  Aunt Amelia,  'and  perhaps  there  will  be  something in  my  bag  for  a  good  girl  when  I  come  home  tonight.'
       Ellen  put  both  arms  about  Aunt  Amelia's neck  and  hugged  her  close.
       'Do  you  think,'  whispered  Ellen,  "that  I could  have  jam  for  my  luncheon,  so  that  I  won't miss  you  so  much?  The  jam  we  had  yesterday is  all  gone.   Caroline  told  me  so.'
       Aunt  Amelia  nodded  with  a  smile.
       'You  certainly  may  have  jam  for  your  luncheon,' said  she,  'and  you  may  get  it  from  the preserve  closet  yourself,  if  you  like.  Do  you know  what  kind  you  want?'
       'Cherry'  answered  Ellen  promptly.  'It  is my  favorite.  And  I  will  know  it  on  the  shelf because  I  can  see  the  cherries  through  the  jar.'
       Ellen  waved  until  Aunt  Amelia  turned  the corner.  Then,  packing  the  Popovers  into  a  little brown  basket,  she  carried  them  out  under  the apple  tree.
       She  seated  them  comfortably  against  the  root of  the  tree  and  for  a  long  time  the  Popovers watched  Ellen  hard  at  work,  building  their summer  house.
       She  sorted  the  pebbles,  the  large  from  the small.  She  laid  them  in  long  lines,  as  straight  as a  string.  She  turned  the  corners  nicely,  with the  greatest  of  care.  And  when  Ellen  had  built a  bedroom,  a  living room,  and  a  kitchen,  she felt  warm  and  tired  and  quite  ready  to  stop.
       'I  think  I  will  go  down  now  to  the  preserve closet  after  my  jam,'  said  Ellen  to  the Popovers. 'And  you  must  come  with  me,  for  I  am  afraid  to leave  you  here.  Blinky  might  get you.'
       So  into  the  little  brown  basket  went  the  Popovers  and  down  into  the  cellar  trudged  Ellen, for  there  stood  the  preserve  closet,  as  Ellen  well knew.
       'Do  you  hear  Caroline?'  asked  Ellen  of  the Popovers  as  she  climbed  slowly  down  the  cellar stairs.
       Yes,  the  Popovers  heard  a  swish,  swish, swish  from  above,  though  they  made  Ellen no  answer,  but  stared  at  her  with  unwinking eyes.
       'That  is  Caroline  sweeping,'  said  Ellen.  'She is  upstairs  in  Aunt  Amelia's  room.  I  can  tell. She  is  busy,  so  she  mustn't  be  bothered  about the  jam.  Now  you  sit  down  on  the  floor  outside the  closet,  and  when  I  come  out  you  must  guess what  kind  of  jam  I  have.'
       The  Popovers  were  ranged  in  a  row  along  the closet  wall,  and  with  a  farewell  smile  Ellen pulled  open  the  door  and  stepped  inside.
       The  preserve  closet  was  built  across  one  end of  the  cellar.  It  was  lined  with  shelves,  and  on those  shelves  stood  jars  of  all  sizes,  filled  with all  kinds  of  good  things.
       There  were  jars  of  jelly,  currant  and  crab apple  and  grape.  There  were  pickled  peaches and  pickled  pears  and  pickled  water  melon  rind. There  was  orange  marmalade  and  peach  marmalade, and  great  jars  of  preserved  blackberries and  raspberries,  too.  There  was  quince  preserve and  plum  preserve.  There  was  jar  after  jar filled  with  pickles,  too.
       But  best  of  all  Ellen  liked  the  shelf  where stood  the  jams,  strawberry,  raspberry,  blackberry,  peach,  and  Ellen's  favorite,  great  tall jars  of  rich  red  cherry  jam.
       Straight  to  this  corner  went  Ellen,  and  after studying  the  jars  for  a  moment  picked  out  the tallest  jar  of  cherry  jam  that  she  could  find.
       Then  she  sat  down  on  the  chair  Caroline  kept in  the  closet  to  stand  on  and  held  her  jar  up  to the  light.  Although  Aunt  Amelia  called  this cherry  jam,  the  cherries  were  left  in  it  round and  whole  and  Ellen  could  see  them  plainly  as the  light  from  the  window  shone  through  the jar.  The  color  was  a  deep  ruby  red,  the  cherries looked  plump  and  sweet,  and  Ellen  was  so pleased  that  she  hugged  the  jar,  in  its  neat paper  cap,  close  in  her  arms  as  she  sat  far  back in  the  comfortable  old  chair.  She  thought  the preserve  closet  a  pleasant  place  in  which  to  rest a  moment,  and  so  it  was.
       In  the  first  place  the  room  was  as  neat  as  a pin,  not  a  speck  of  dust  anywhere.  Caroline would  not  have  it  otherwise.  Then,  too,  it  was cool  and  shady.   Yet  it  was  not  lonely  in  the least,  for  in  at  the  open  window,  closely  screened, nodded  the  ivy  that  covered  the  side  of  the house,  pink  flowers  from  the  Rose  of  Sharon bush  fluttered  sociably  down  on  the  grass,  and a  plump  brown robin  strutted  past  the  window, looking  so  important  that  Ellen  laughed  to  see him  go  by.
       Outside  the  closet  door  in  the  quiet  of  the cellar  the  Popovers  felt  sleepy.  Inside  the  closet in  her  comfortable  chair,  Ellen  felt  drowsy,  too.
       She  twisted  round  in  the  chair,  she  put  up  her arm  for  a  pillow,  and  with  the  cherry  jam  lying snugly  in  her  lap  Ellen  fell  asleep.
       Upstairs  Caroline  finished  her  sweeping.  She dusted  and  tidied  the  rooms.  She  swept  her  way down  the  stairs,  she  swept  her  way  through  the hall,  and  when  she  stepped  into  the  kitchen Caroline  looked  at  the  clock  and  saw  that  it  was past  the  hour  for  luncheon.
       'Ellen  will  be  faint  with  hunger,  playing  so nicely  out  under  the  trees,  too,'  thought  Caroline.
       She  made  haste  to  prepare  luncheon,  and presently  she  stepped  out  under  the  apple  tree to  call  Ellen  in.
       Of  course  there  was  no  Ellen  there,  not  even a  Popover  to  smile  up  into  Caroline's  face. Blinky  was  there,  stretched  out  asleep  in  the Popover's  dining room,  but  he  didn't  know where  Ellen  was,  even  if  he  could  have  told.
       Then  Caroline  called  to  Ellen,  over  and  over again,  and  Ellen,  asleep  in  the  preserve  closet, heard  not  a  single  sound.
       Caroline  hurried  into  the  house.  She  looked all  round  downstairs  and  upstairs  and  even  in the  attic.  And  she  saw  no  sign  of  Ellen  no matter  where  she  looked.
       Then  Caroline  became  frightened.  She  stood out  on  the  sidewalk,  gazing  up  and  down  the street.  Oh,  how  she  longed  to  see  the  figure  of  a little  girl  with  yellow  curls  and  a  blue  dress  come running  toward  her!  Oh,  how  she  wished  Aunt Amelia  had  not  gone  away !  Oh,  how  she  wished that  Uncle  Henry  were  at  home  to  help!  What should  she  do  next?  Where  should  she  look  for Ellen?
       While  Caroline  stood  there,  her  pleasant  face puckered  into  a  hundred  anxious  wrinkles, across  the  way  there  came  strolling  a  tall  policeman, swinging  his  stout  stick.
       Caroline  knew  him  well.  His  wife  was  the aunt  of  Caroline's  cousin.  So  Caroline  eagerly beckoned  Mr.  James  to  come  over  and  in  less than  two  minutes'  time  she  had  told  him  how Ellen  had  disappeared.
       'I  don't  think  she  has  gone  down  the  street,' said  Caroline,  shaking  her  head.  '  She  is  a  good child.  She  wouldn't  run  away.'
       'Let  us  go  through  the  house  again,'  said  Mr. James.   'I  think  we  shall  find  her  there.'
       So  Caroline  and  Mr.  James  went  through  the house,  and  Mr.  James  peered  in  places  where Caroline  had  not  thought  to  look,  behind  boxes and  in  closets  and  even  under  beds.
       At  last  the  cellar  was  reached  and  still  no Ellen  had  been found until the Popover family was seen leaning up against a wall near the cellar closet door. Soon Mr. James, Caroline and a very sleepy Ellen were reunited inside the cellar where jars of jams, pickles and jellies were stacked  for the winter.
      Caroline  hugged  Ellen  because  she  was  not  lost.  Then the  Popovers  were  put  in  their  basket  and  every one  went  upstairs,  Ellen  holding  fast  to  her  jar of  cherry  jam.
       Mr.  James  was  obliged  to  go,  though  Caroline and  Ellen  invited  him  to  stay  to  luncheon.  And Caroline  drank  four  cups  of  tea,  she  was  so  upset, and  Ellen  ate  all  the  cherry  jam  she  wanted.
       But  the  Popovers  were  the  happiest  of  all,  for when  they  were  alone  and  could  talk  outloud Mr.  Popover  said:
       'If  it  hadn't  been  for  us,  sitting  there  by  the closet  door,  Mr.  James  and  Caroline  might never  have  found  Ellen.'
       And  so  all  the  Popovers  believe  to  this  very day.

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The Story of A Doll-House

The downstairs of the doll's house.

The Story of A Doll-House

by Katherine Pyle

     Seventy-five years ago, a little brother and sister had a play-house in a cupboard. It was a sheet-closet; and on the upper shelves were piled great rolls of home-spun linen, with bunches of lavender between their smooth folds to make them smell sweet. The two lover shelves belonged to the children, and there, for a while, their toys and boxes were neatly arranged side by side, and pictures were tacked up on the walls.

      Boys are not so careful and orderly in their ways as little girls, and by and by the brother began to store all kinds of queer things in the play-house: bits of stick fit for whittling; an old dog-collar for which he had traded his jack-knife; pieces of string and fishing-line; a rusty key; and many other odds and ends, such as little boys love to gather together in their comings and goings.

      It worried the little girl to have all these things littered about on their neat shelves; and the mother, as she sat in her cushioned rocking-chair, with her basket of sewing at the nursery window, saw it all, and felt sorry for the little daughter. So, one day after the children had started for school with their books tucked under their arms, and two red apples and some gingerbread in their baskets, she put on her bonnet and shawl, and went down the street to the carpenter's. She described to the carpenter exactly what she wanted, and he said:

      "Yes, yes; ma'am. A slanting roof, and six windows; yes, ma'am. And a wooden standard; yes, ma'am. I will have it done for you next week."

      And next week the carpenter's boy brought something to the house on a wheelbarrow, while the children were away at school.

      It was a play-house: a large play-house, a play-house with two chimneys and real glass windows. It was two stories high, and almost more than the boy could wheel.

      The mother had it carried up to her room and put behind the high-post bed, where it was hidden by the white valance.

      All that morning she was busy tacking and snipping and pasting the cutting; and all the while the children were at school, thinking of nothing at all but their lessons.

      It was Saturday and a half-holiday, and about noon the children came home.

      Upstairs they clattered and burst into the nursery, and then stood quite still in the doorway and looked.

      The nursery was very quite, with the chairs and tables in their places, and two squares of yellow sunlight on the carpet, but there, in the middle of the floor, stood a wonderful little house, painted to look just as if it were built of bricks, with chimneys, and glass windows, a slanting black roof, and a white door. It was the little house that the carpenter's boy had wheeled home on the wheelbarrow; but now it was furnished, and had black and yellow silk curtains at the windows, carpets on the floors, and one of Ann's own dolls was looking through the little square panes, for it was her home.

      There was a key in a keyhole above the first story windows of the doll-house. The children turned it, and the whole front of the house swung open, windows and all. Then they could see just what was inside.

The upstairs of the doll's house.

      There was an upstairs and a downstairs. Upstairs there was a mantelpiece and fireplace, a round black tin stove, and a high-post bed with curtains and a valance. There was a clock standing on a chest of drawers under the looking-glass. There were pictures about the room, and a cozy stuffed chair stood by the bed for Grandmamma Doll to rest in when she came upstairs out of breath.

      Downstairs there was another fireplace, a round center-table decorated with pictures, and a sofa. And there was Grandmamma Doll herself, sitting in the green rocking-chair. There was a folding table that was just the thing for dollies to sit around while they drank a social cup of tea.

      While the little boy and girl were looking at the play-house their mother came in, and stood smiling on them from the doorway without their seeing her.

      That is the story of the real doll-house.

      Yes, of a real doll-house, - a dear old-fashioned doll-house.

      As one opens the front of it a faint, delightful odor of long ago breathes forth, like the ancient fragrance that haunts the boxes and piece-bags of kind old ladies.

Left to right, The mother doll, The Grandmother doll and Aunt Jane.

      As one looks in the looking-glasses one thinks of all the little girls whose chubby faces have been reflected there, - Ann, in her short-waisted, long-skirted dresses; little nieces of hers, in pantalettes and pig-tails. And now others, with crisp white aprons and bangs, peer in with eager curiosity at the old-time doll-house.

      What fun they have had with it! How many times, on stormy days, when the rain beat on the nursery windows, and swept in whitening gusts over the wet trees on the lawn, the front of the dollies' house has swung back, and little folks have played happily with it for whole mornings at a time! How often they have pretended a dolly was ill, and have laid here in the fresh, white-sheeted feather bed under the chintz curtains; and then, while the nurse warmed up her food on the tin stove, Grandmamma Doll has had her green rocking-chair brought upstairs, and sat at the bedside and rocked and rocked, while the other dolls went about very softly, and the nurse kept the baby quiet below.

      Not long ago there was a fair in a certain city to raise a fund for a hospital. There, in a room specially set apart for them, were dolls by dozens and dozens, all standing in rows and dressed in their best; for the one that was the finest of all was to receive a prize. And there, too, among all the fine dolls and in the midst of the noise and glare of light, stood the dim old doll-house.

      The key had been turned in the lock and the front had been swung back.

      There was the round tin stove, the high-post bed, and clock; there was the folding table, and the sofa, and there were the silk-covered chairs.

      A crowd of faces peered in - old and young; people pointed and smiled; it was a noisy crowd, and the yellow-faced dolls, in their old-fashioned dresses, sitting in the quiet rooms, looked out strangely with their black wooden eyes, through the odor of long ago.

      My face, too, peered in upon that old, Quaker doll-family. I too wondered and pointed with the rest, and then I thought how other children, old and young, might perhaps care to look through my eyes into those faded rooms. So, I drew pictures of it all, and afterward I made portraits of the dear jointed and rag dolls, and here they are.

Left, the Nurse and Baby. Right, Sister Hatty.