Part 2

Together they wandered about, plucking an outfit for each doll. It was great fun to match the dresses in slippers and stockings, and then to complete the costumes with the proper hats. When they carried the frocks in, what a hubbub arose! Each doll wanted every dress.

The little Queen quieted them and gave a suit to each one, which they soon put on, and they looked so sweet, clean and pretty that their own mammas would hardly know them. The Queen called for the bill, paid it, and departed with her family, looking like the “Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe.”

They made a very pretty picture as they walked out, appearing like a lot of gorgeous butterflies. As before, the gate swung open at a peal from the silver bugle; all climbed into the ambulance once more, and away they went with Janie following.

When they reached home they found the yard full of little girls weeping for their lost dolls. But as each dollie jumped down and ran to its own mamma, what a chattering and babbling filled the air!

“Who mended you?” “What lovely hair!” “Where did you get those clothes?” cried the little girls.

The strange tale which Janie told them of all she had seen, and especially of the clothes growing on trees, seemed too wonderful to be believed, and they envied her such delightful experiences.

The little Queen then mounted the steps and gave them a short lecture. She told them how kind they ought always to be to their dolls--just as kind as they wished their mammas to be to them.

She said that when she went from house to house gathering up all the old dollies to have them made like new, she was shocked to see the condition of some of them. One had a hopeless crack in its head, because its mamma got cross and threw it up to the ceiling. Some of them were naked, and most of them were very dirty. Her eyes filled with tears as she spoke of the poor little dead one; and she said she could always tell what kind of heart a little girl had by the way she treated her doll. Those who made the sweetest and tenderest mammas were those who had taken the most loving care of their dollies when they were little girls. She wanted them to begin over, and see who could be the best mother during the few weeks that followed.

Then they all sat on the grass, and Dinah appeared with cunning glasses of lemonade and tiny sandwiches, and they enjoyed this almost more than the lecture. When they had finished the Queen said good-by, telling them to enjoy each other while they could, as this bliss was to last but a month.

Only little girls with live dolls can know of the happiness that followed. It was no uncommon thing to see dolls playing “ring-around-a-rosy” and “hide-and-seek,” or jumping ropes and rolling hoops. Janie never tired of watching them, and she and her precious doll had many romps.

Early one morning there was left at the door a miniature invitation, which announced that a picnic was to be held at the Doll Farm the next day. Janie ran into the doll house to ask if they would go, and found Dinah busy cooking for it. She had just finished the layer cakes, which had been baked in the lids of baking-powder cans. They were all iced, some with chocolate, others with plain white. A number of tiny square loaves of angel food and sponge cake looked so good that Janie longed to pocket one.

Dinah allowed her to cut out the fried cakes with a thimble, and when they were a golden brown, she rolled them in pulverized sugar until they looked like a heap of white marbles. Dinah then made a batch of cookies, which Janie cut also. Next came a lot of jelly tarts and apple turn-overs, so crisp they would undoubtedly melt in your mouth.

Last, but not least, she made dozens of the dearest little baking-powder biscuits, and when they were baked Janie opened and buttered them and put in pieces of dried beef, shaved very thin. They were delicious. Janie received one from Dinah, and longed to swallow a dozen.

Then Dinah boiled a number of eggs, for which Janie tied up packages of salt and pepper, as these are necessary for every picnic. She then helped to place the food on the pantry shelf, ready to pack in a hamper the next morning.

How tempting it looked! When they had squeezed lemons for lemonade and frozen the ice cream, they sat down to rest.

Dinah said it was to be a delightful picnic, given by the Queen to all the dolls and their mammas. Every little girl in the village was invited, and she did hope she had enough to eat!

Janie ran home to tell mamma about it, and to ask if she couldn’t make something for the lunch. Mamma thought for a moment.

“I know the very thing,” she said. “Jump onto your wheel and go to each little girl’s house, and tell her to be here at three this afternoon, and to be sure to wear an old dress.”

“You are the darlingest mamma!” Janie cried, as she hugged her and ran away with a delightful feeling of mystery. “It must be lovely if mamma planned it, but what _can_ it be?”

Promptly at three all were on hand. Mamma took them to the kitchen.

“We will make some doll candy, and I will show you how,” she said.

They had to relieve their excited feelings by dancing a jig at this delightful news, and then they settled down to work. They first made some chocolate drops, the weentiest little things you ever saw; then some marshmallows, which were about the size of parchesi dice.

Next they made maple-creams and dear old-fashioned molasses candy, which the children were allowed to pull, and the one who succeeded in getting her piece the whitest was to have a dainty little box of the mixed candies.

It was great fun! When it was finished it looked so good that mamma had to divide a box among them. Then she brought out the popper, and the children went gaily about shelling the corn. This is always a delight to pop, and when they had a heaping dish of it, they made it into popcorn balls about the size of marbles.

While they waited for the candy to harden they ran into the garden to play and to talk over these strange happenings.

“O children, what lovely times we are having!” said Janie. “I wish they could last always.” And each one piped in:

“Yes, but they can’t, and we must enjoy them while they do last.”

“I know one thing, I do take better care of my doll now. I never used to keep her face clean, and she was nearly always naked.”

“It was mine that was ruined from my throwing her up to the wall. I was so mad at her that day, just because I couldn’t make her dress fit. I have a new one now, and I am very careful of her.”

“And mine was drowned, but I really was sorry after I did it. She wouldn’t stand up, and I grew cross and threw her into the water; but, of course, I never knew she had any feelings. There goes my new one now, riding the wheel which papa had made for her.”

The girls clapped their hands with delight at the unusual spectacle. To think of a doll on a wheel! What would happen next?

Just then mamma’s voice summoned them to the kitchen, where they found a great basket of little candy boxes in the forms of hearts, diamonds, half-moons, drums and cunning barrels. They packed the candy neatly and tied each box with a pretty ribbon.

Then the boxes were placed in the basket, ready for the morrow, and the little girls departed for their homes. The next day proved to be fine, and soon after breakfast the children and their dolls were assembled in Janie’s yard. They were clad in pretty dresses, and looked as sweet and fresh as a lot of daisies.

Then appeared two tallyhos, the one for the dolls being drawn by four curly white dogs. The Queen’s own boy-doll driver snapped the whip, and the air was at once filled with the noise of the barking of the dogs and the music of the bells on the harness of the restless steeds.

The tallyho for the children was much larger, and was drawn by four cream-white ponies.

They were all packed in like sardines in a box, the little Queen sitting in the midst of the dolls. The silver bugle was blown, the chains and bells jangled, and away they flew.

They were barely started when they heard Dinah calling. She was frantically waving a red bandanna kerchief and beckoning them to come back. So back they went.

“You done forgot me,” she shouted.

“You! Why, Dinah, are you going?” asked Janie.

“Co’se I is, and I don’t like to take no liberties nor nothin’, but I feel like I must tell you dat you done forgot anodder t’ing dat I consider mighty impo’tant to ebery picnic, and dat is de lunch what I’se been workin’ at dis long time.”

This speech caused a hearty shout of laughter. Mamma came to help put in the hamper and baskets, and Dinah sat in state by the driver. With her red kerchief on her head and her yellow dress, she looked like a great bumble-bee hovering over the dainty doll flowers.

As they rode away, mamma heard her singing her favorite song, “Der’s a good time comin’ by and by.” Perhaps she was thinking of the time when her leg would be turned around, or, perhaps, of how much they would enjoy the toothsome luncheon she had prepared. They had a fine ride, as it was a beautiful day, and they were all so perfectly happy.

They sang and shouted, and were envied by all the boys in the village, who were deprived of these pleasures because boys are so dreadful in their treatment of dolls.

All too soon was the ride at an end. The girls were eager to see the trees where the dolls’ clothes grew, and when they were actually inside of those wonderful grounds, they ran here and there like ants. The Queen first led them around to her own home, which Janie had not seen when she was there before. It was the dearest little place, with climbing rose vines twined about the doors and windows, and was beautifully furnished with everything one could wish for.

The Queen’s own bed-room was like fairy land. The bed had Swiss curtains draped about it, tied back with blue ribbons. There was a lovely desk filled with tiny doll-paper and envelopes, and a little gold pen and a cut-glass inkstand. Here she had written those gracious invitations.

The closet was filled with beautiful little dresses. A shoe box held various colored shoes and slippers, also bed slippers and a dear little pair of rubbers. On the dresser was everything any young lady could desire. It was charmingly arranged with a lace cover over blue, and a dainty pin cushion, silver comb, brush and manicure set.

In one corner stood a book case, filled with books of the tiniest sort. A long window led out into a balcony; here was stretched a doll’s hammock, where one could swing and pick flowers without moving, for the roses twined in and out.

After this they went to see the hospital, and then to have some games with the dolls. They examined the trees carefully and found them most mysterious. Lunch was called before they dreamed it could be time, and, as that is always the best part of a picnic, and as little girls are always hungry, they hurried to the spot where Dinah was serving.

Every mamma sat by her own doll, and as the food was passed each doll helped herself, but the poor mammas were like the little pig that had none, as they were not allowed to take a morsel; and to make it worse, what do you think those saucy dollies did? Have you ever had a dolls’ tea party? Then you remember how you held the food to your doll’s mouth, pretended to let her have some, and then gobbled it up yourself.

Well, that is just what happened here. Each doll held it to her mamma’s mouth, and, as she tried to take it, it vanished in the doll’s mouth in the most irritating manner. Every time Dinah passed the same performance followed, and how the dolls laughed!

The children grew hungrier every moment when they found those tempting viands were not for them. The ice cream looked so delicious! It was strawberry, and served in small salt-cellars; and then came that lovely angel food and jelly tarts. They coaxed and pleaded, but the dolls only said:

“That’s the way you treat us at your parties.”

Finally, when they were on the verge of tears, the dolls relented and Dinah brought in a fresh supply, which vanished very quickly, as everything was unusually good and the children were nearly starved.

When they had finished, they presented the dolls with the boxes of candy, and wound up with a merry game of hide-and-seek.

The old gardener called them and said that each little girl was to be allowed to choose one entire suit for her doll. What a scramble they made for the various trees, though it was very hard to decide, for everything was so pretty.

Janie looked a long time before she could quite make up her mind, but finally chose a pink dress with pink stockings and slippers, and a hat with elegant pink plumes waving upon it; a fan and chatelaine completed this costume. She chose also the dear pink parasol she had so much wanted before. There were also stunning coats and opera capes with swan’s-down trimming, and one tree full of dear little muffs.

The handkerchief tree looked too funny, with the tiny white things fluttering about like a flock of birds with wings spread ready to fly.

It was a hard matter to leave this enchanting place, but as the sun was getting low they gathered up their baskets, presented the gardener with some of their candy, and with many thanks and good-bys departed.

When they reached home they told the Queen they never in all their lives had had such a beautiful time, and, thanking her very heartily for giving them so much pleasure, they went to their homes “to tell mamma all about it.”

The days flew merrily by, and before they realized it the month was almost gone. When Janie stopped to think of those happy times being no more, she was ready to cry her eyes out, but she put away the thought, determined to enjoy them while they lasted. One morning at breakfast papa said:

“Mamma, I think we must wind up these remarkable doings with something pretty fine. How would it do to hire several carriages and take the whole caboodle of these chicks, with their wound-up dolls, for a lovely day at the seashore? The various mothers, or rather grandmothers, of the dolls can go to see that they don’t get drowned. It is only a drive of ten or twelve miles to the beach. You can get dinner at the hotel. I will telegraph and have that arranged for. You can all have a plunge in the surf, and the babes can dig in the sand and paddle about, and have no end of a good time. How does that strike you, Janie?”

Janie replied by springing into his lap and giving him a hug that almost choked him.

“Oh, that will be lovely,” she cried, “and I will write the invitations.”

They decided to have it the very last day of this eventful month. Janie wrote the notes which were to make so many hearts happy, and papa went to make the necessary arrangements. The day came, and Janie sprang out of bed to raise the shade. Instead of seeing the sun streaming in, as she hoped, she found the rain was pouring down in sheets. She made a brave effort to keep back the tears, as she heard her dollie singing the well-known song, “Can’t we Make Sunshine in the House when there is None Without?”

“But, Dollie, we can’t go,” sobbed Janie.

“Why not?” came from mamma’s room.

“Because it’s raining, mamma,” and then the tears began to fall in earnest.

“Rain before seven, clear before eleven,” sang papa. “Don’t borrow trouble, Polly love, but get dressed and see what will happen.”

Janie dried her eyes and obeyed, very much surprised, for she was seldom allowed to go anywhere in a rain like that.

After breakfast mamma got out waterproof and rubbers, which Janie put on, and then waited patiently for what would follow.

The door-bell rang and a package was left for Janie’s doll. On opening it she found another tiny package marked on the outside, “Not to be opened until you reach the beach.” There was also a little gossamer and a pair of rubbers, which fitted Miss Dollie to perfection. How charming she looked!

Janie hopped about like a young robin, as she heard the delightful blast from the trumpet, which was always associated with their good times. She rushed to the window and saw, drawing up in front, two omnibuses, one filled with the various mothers, the other with the little girls and their dollies. But what was this procession which followed?

“Oh, mamma! it’s all the dolls from the doll-house, and each has on a tiny gossamer. How funny they look!” And so they did, each carrying an umbrella and paddling through the water. Mamma, Janie and Dollie followed them, and all jumped in the omnibuses, closed the doors with a bang, and away they went.

It was snug and cozy inside. The rain pattered on the roof and played a steady accompaniment to the chatter of this jolly little crowd, which looked so odd, hooded and cloaked in black, like so many nuns. The little mammas cast many admiring glances at their dolls, for they had always longed for them to have these wee rainy-day garments.

“Isn’t it the greatest fun?” they cried. “I’m so glad it rained; it’s much nicer to be shut in here and listen to it,” and they hugged one another in their delight.

They had a merry ride. The Queen told some delightful stories, which were so interesting that when the sun broke through the clouds they never noticed it; till, the last story being finished, they all shouted in one breath:

“Look at the sun!”

And now they found they were nearing the beach. They could hear the ocean roaring, and could see the waves creeping up and rolling over with that great swish, which once heard is never forgotten, and is sweetest music to lovers of the sea.

The ’buses stopped, then all tumbled out and made a mad rush for the water. Oh, the beauty of it all! How sweet the air was! Who can breathe that delightful, salty odor and not love it? They played in the sand and gathered shells until eleven o’clock, when the air was warmer, and mamma said they might put on their bathing suits.

“But what will the dollies do?”

Janie’s doll waved her mysterious package, and every other doll waved one also, crying:

“Wait and you will see.”

Then all disappeared in the bath-houses; the girls hurried into their suits and awaited the dollies’ reappearance with the greatest impatience. When they finally came they pranced around them and cried, “Oh, you darlings, where did you get them?” And no wonder, for they were clad in the gayest little bathing suits you ever saw, with all the colors of the rainbow.

How pretty they looked skipping about! They had a merry game of tag, while waiting for the dolls’ grandmammas to disrobe, and made a beautiful picture, dotting the sand with dainty bits of bright color. At last all were ready, and they plunged into the surf. Such fun as they had!

The storm had made frothy, snowy waves, which came in faster and faster, tumbling over each other, as if to see which would reach the shore first. The children and dolls took hold of hands and rushed in among them, only to be hurled back in one confused mass of legs, arms and heads. For a moment it would have been hard for an onlooker to tell just what it was, but the tangle soon unraveled, and the performance was repeated with an accompaniment of wild shrieks of laughter, as the waves rushed over the heads of dollies, children and mammas. The mammas were soon tired out and sat on the beach to rest and watch this performance on nature’s stage, and, as the waves tossed the children and dolls out on the sand, they laughed till the tears ran down their cheeks.

Some of the dolls were left standing on their heads, others walking about on their hands, and one poor little doll was stuck in the sand, with one leg and an arm sticking up in the air. They helped her out and she ran into the water again, undaunted at such a slight mishap. At last they came out breathless and lay down on the sand to rest before dressing.

They looked so funny, that mamma told them she ought to do with them as did an old lady that she once heard of, who allowed her children to play near a little stream which ran by their home. When they fell in she hung them on a line and fastened them with clothes-pins, stuck through their toes. It was so odd to see them hanging in a row--ten of them! When they were dry she took them in, sprinkled and ironed them, and let them loose again. They were hung so low it really didn’t hurt them, and they thought it great fun. One day she left them hanging while she went to the store, and a thunder shower came up. She rushed home in a panic and, of course, found them dripping. She took out the clothes-pins, shooed them into the house like a brood of chickens, gave them each some ginger tea and hustled them into bed, piling blankets upon them till they were nearly smothered. They recovered, of course.

“And now,” said mamma, “we must get dressed and go to dinner.”

They all had a hearty laugh over this remarkable tale, and thought mamma would have to have a great many clothes-pins and a very long line upon which to hang them.

When all were ready they walked up to the hotel, where the guests were eagerly waiting for them. They had seen the telegram which ordered dinner to be prepared for thirty mothers, thirty children and thirty live dolls, and they watched with the greatest interest the little girls, each with a doll by her side, march into the dining-room. How astonished they were when they saw the dolls eat--actually put food into their mouths and swallow it. That was the strangest thing! The dolls weren’t a bit embarrassed, however, and ate a hearty dinner and enjoyed it, too, for the long ride and the bathing had given them fine appetites.

After it was over they filed out, and the guests after them. The grown people begged the mothers to tell them what it all meant, and their children surrounded the little girls and their dolls. Of course, the story that they heard was very strange and hard to believe, but they could see this part of it with their own eyes, and so could not but believe the rest.

All too soon came the omnibuses to carry them home. They were to have a pleasant open-air ride this time, as the roofs had mysteriously disappeared. With many good-bys they departed, leaving the guests with much to talk about. This had been another beautiful time, and it seemed a fitting end to the month’s jubilee; but Janie couldn’t be quite happy, when she remembered it was the final act in this strange play.

“Dear little Queen,” she pleaded, “couldn’t you let it last just a little longer? We can’t bear to give up these good times so soon.”

“My precious child, this must be the end for the present--I always keep my word, and the month will be up in the morning; but,” she added, as the tears sprang to all of those bright eyes, “if you take good care of your dolls and try to be helpful to your mammas, I will let it happen again some day, and you may then have even a better time; so do not grieve. Remember, dear little ones, I love you with all my heart, and will plan something even more beautiful than this has been.”