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Page 32
"Of course it was just as I expected. I had hardly touched the two
little pillows (they had a meal-baggy smell from being stuffed with
bran), when the woodwork gave way with a crash, and I
fell--fell--fell--
"Though I fully believed every bone in my body to be broken, it was
really a relief to get to the ground. As soon as I could, I sat up, and
felt myself all over. A little stiff, but, as it seemed, unhurt. Oddly
enough, I found that I was back again under the tree; and more strange
still, it was not the tree where I sat with Rosa, but the old oak-tree
in the little wood. Was it all a dream? The toys had vanished, the
lights were out, the mosses looked dull in the growing dusk, the
evening was chilly, the hole no larger than it was thirty years ago,
and when I felt in my pocket for my spectacles I found that they were
on my nose.
"I have returned to the spot many times since, but I never could induce
a beetle to enter into conversation on the subject, the hole remains
obstinately impassable, and I have not been able to repeat my visit to
the Land of Lost Toys.
"When I recall my many sins against the playthings of my childhood, I
am constrained humbly to acknowledge that perhaps this is just as
well."
* * * * *
SAM SETS UP SHOP.
"I think you might help me, Dot," cried Sam, in dismal and rather
injured tones.
It was the morning following the day of the earthquake, and of Aunt
Penelope's arrival. Sam had his back to Dot, and his face to the fire,
over which indeed he had bent for so long that he appeared to be half
roasted.
"What do you want?" asked Dot, who was working at a doll's night-dress
that had for long been partly finished, and now seemed in a fair way to
completion.
"It's the glue-pot," Sam continued. "It does take so long to boil. And
I have been stirring at the glue with a stick for ever so long to get
it to melt. It is very hot work. I wish you would take it for a bit.
It's as much for your good as for mine."
"Is it?" said Dot.
"Yes, it is, Miss," cried Sam. "You must know I've got a splendid
idea."
"Not another earthquake, I hope?" said Dot, smiling.
"Now, Dot, that's truly unkind of you. I thought it was to be
forgotten."
"So it is," said Dot, getting up. "I was only joking. What is the
idea?"
"I don't think I shall tell you till I have finished my shop. I want to
get to it now, and I wish you would take a turn at the glue-pot."
Sam was apt to want a change of occupation. Dot, on the other hand, was
equally averse from leaving what she was about till it was finished, so
they suited each other like Jack Sprat and his wife. It had been an
effort to Dot to leave the night-dress which she had hoped to finish at
a sitting; but when she was fairly set to work on the glue business she
never moved till the glue was in working order, and her face as red as
a ripe tomato.
By this time Sam had set up business in the window-seat, and was
fastening a large paper inscription over his shop. It ran thus:--
* * * * *
MR. SAM.
_Dolls' Doctor and Toymender to Her Majesty
the Queen, and all other Potentates_.
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