Chapter XX: The Last 264 (1)

PEGGY IN TOYLAND

PEGGY IN TOYLAND

I

INTRODUCES PEGGY AND SOME OF HER FRIENDS

Peggy was just eight years old. She had very long rather straight hair, blue eyes, a dear little pudgy nose, and a small mouth. She lived with her father and mother in a nice house in the country with a big garden round it. It was about five miles from the sea, and she was sometimes taken there in the motor-car, to paddle and to play on the sands.

The place she used to go to had only one house near it. This was a large bungalow belonging to some friends of Peggy’s father and mother. It was built right on the beach, but there was a little lawn beside it, and on the edge of the lawn were two wooden figures that had been once figure-heads of ships. They were both ladies, and it was difficult to tell whether they were old or young, because one of them had had her nose broken off, and the other had lost every bit of paint off her face. But there was something agreeable in the appearance of both of them, and Peggy used to think she would have liked to know them when they were leading a more active life, perched up in the very front of the ships to which they belonged, and travelling over the sea to all sorts of strange places. But they still looked over the sea, which was better than being broken up and burnt, with the rest of the ships; and of course they always looked in one direction, straight across the water to the big Island on the other side of it.

Peggy had never been to the Island, and when she was playing on the sands she would sometimes look at it, and wonder what it was like there. She could see a little town and a little church, and a few houses scattered about among the hills; and she wondered what sort of people lived in them.

Well, when she was eight years old she found out, and she also got to know a good deal more about the two wooden ladies of the bungalow. What she found out was so remarkable that it is doubtful if any little girl has ever seen anything like it before, and I am going to tell you the story of it.

But before I begin I must say this: that if Peggy had not had a kind heart she would never have found out anything. I do not mean to say that she was never naughty; but she was never naughty in that most horrid of all ways, by being cruel or unkind. She had several pets--two rabbits and four guinea-pigs, a bantam cock and hen, two white pigeons, and a kitten, which she liked best of them all. If she had once been cruel to any of these pets, just to see what they would do, it is quite certain that she would never have been taken to the Island. And if she had made fun of old people or poor people, she would never have gone either, because that is an extremely unkind and horrid thing to do. But Peggy had never done any of these things, because she was a really kind little girl, and if something horrid inside her whispered: “Now, just be a little bit cruel,” she was almost as much ashamed of it as if she had really been cruel, and she never listened to the whisper for a moment. So when she was eight years old she was taken to the Island in the extraordinary way I am going to tell you about.

Peggy had a good number of toys, and amongst them two dolls, which will now engage our attention.

The elder of the two was a wooden doll, which she had had for some time, and the story of this doll is rather interesting.

When Peggy was five years old she had a doll given her called Rose. Rose was well-dressed, in clothes that would come on and off; and rather a nice hat came with her. But somehow Peggy could not get to like her much. She took her about everywhere for quite a week, undressed her every night and dressed her again every morning, and sometimes gave her a bath, but not with water in it, because her body was stuffed, although her head was composition. She also took her out in the new pram that had been given to her at the same time, and put up the hood if it was sunny. In fact she did everything that a nice little girl could to make Rose feel that she had come to a kind and loving home.

But at the end of a week she didn’t feel that Rose really loved her. Most little girls know dolls like that. You may do all you can for them, and they don’t seem to appreciate it at all. Well, Rose was one of those dolls.

One morning Peggy went out with her nurse, and took Rose with her in the pram. They went down through the village, and along the road on the other side, and presently they came to a cottage where a lot of children lived. Their mother was not very kind to them, and so they were not very kind to each other, but were always fighting and squabbling.

One of these children was a girl a year older than Peggy, called Mabel, and just as Peggy and her nurse came up to the cottage they saw Mabel banging the head of an old wooden doll on the hard road.

Now children and dolls are sometimes naughty, and must be corrected, but their heads should never be banged against anything hard. There are plenty of ways of correcting them without doing that, and every nice mother knows it. Peggy knew it as well as anybody, although she was a year younger than Mabel; so directly she saw what was being done she cried out to her nurse how cruel it was.

Mabel stopped beating the wooden doll’s head against the road, and stared at Peggy, and at Rose, who was sitting in the pram; and she must have fallen in love with Rose at first sight, because her face became quite different when she looked at her.

While Mabel was looking at Rose, Peggy was looking at the wooden doll; and the more she looked the more her heart went out to her. She was not what you would call a beautiful doll, and perhaps never had been. One of her legs had been amputated at the knee, one of her arms at the shoulder, and the other at the elbow. Her face was round and open; so were her eyes. Her nose was gone. The less said about her hair the better; she would never need another shampoo. She was dressed in a loose frock of spotted red flannel, tied round the waist with an old piece of black hair-ribbon.

Such was this doll, who was destined to play so large a part in Peggy’s life, as she first saw her; and it may seem odd to some people that she should instantly have loved her. Perhaps being such a kind little girl, and feeling so dreadfully sorry to see the doll so badly treated, had something to do with it; but it could not have been only that. No, there was something about this wooden doll which made Peggy love her at once, and when you have read this story, perhaps you will be able to understand what it was.

Peggy told Mabel that she ought not to knock her doll’s head on the road, and Mabel pointed at Rose, and said: “If I had a doll like that, I wouldn’t want to knock ’er ’ead on the road.”

It was then that the idea first came to Peggy that she would much rather have the wooden doll than Rose; and she asked her nurse if she might give Rose to Mabel, and ask Mabel to give her the wooden doll instead.

Nurse said: “The idea of such a thing!” and told Peggy to come on. Of course she was right not to let Peggy exchange dolls there and then, because she didn’t know whether Peggy’s mother would like it. But where she was wrong was when she said, “Fancy wanting to exchange a beautiful doll like Rose for an ugly old wooden thing like that!” She didn’t understand that what she called beauty had nothing to do with it at all. You don’t love a person for their looks, but just because you can’t help loving them. And Peggy was quite right to love the wooden doll more than Rose, as afterwards turned out.

Fortunately, Peggy’s mother understood these things better than the nurse. The end of it was that Peggy was allowed to give Rose to Mabel, with all her clothes except the hat, which had come on the same birthday as she had, but had not belonged especially to her. And Mabel gave Peggy the wooden doll, but without its red flannel dress, which Peggy’s mother thought might contain germs.

Now that the wooden doll belonged to Peggy she had to give her a name. She called her Daffodil, because the daffodils were out in the garden when she came. But the name never stuck to her. She was always called Wooden in the family circle; and presently it was forgotten that she had ever had any other name.

The first thing that happened to her was that she underwent an operation for restoring the limbs that were lost. It was a serious operation, and she was under chloroform for about a week. The chauffeur, whose name was Herbert, performed the operation, and when it was over Wooden had two arms and two legs just like everybody else. One of the legs sometimes came off at the knee, and both arms at the elbows. But Herbert, accustomed to making quick repairs, was always ready to perform other minor operations, and Wooden was seldom without her full number of limbs for long together.

Wooden went through the usual illnesses, and was carefully nursed by Peggy. Perhaps she suffered rather more than most dolls, but Peggy’s father was a doctor, and there was always help at hand if anything serious happened. And of course Peggy knew more about cases, and nursing, than other little girls whose fathers were not doctors. Wooden had whooping-cough, croup, mumps, scarlet-fever, chicken-pox, measles, German-measles, swollen glands, general debility, bronchitis, typhoid, and lung trouble, all in the ordinary way. For some little time she was a spinal case, and had to be kept on her back. But she was always good and uncomplaining through her ailments, and Peggy loved her more because she was a trifle delicate than if she had always been in robust health.

In fact, the longer Peggy had Wooden the more she loved her. She played with her more than with her other dolls, and Wooden was always the one she took to bed with her. Peggy had a large Teddy bear, which she also loved and took to bed with her. But there could be no jealousy between Wooden and Teddy, because they were so different. If Peggy sometimes dressed Teddy up in a jacket and skirt belonging to Wooden, it was always treated as a joke. As a rule he went about with nothing on but his own thick fur.

Wooden had all the clothes of Peggy’s dolls’ wardrobe to wear, if they fitted her, and was better dressed than most dolls. And as everybody liked her when they once came to know her, she had plenty of things given her as time went on. When Miss Clay came to the house for a week or two to sew, she would generally make something for Wooden out of the material left over. Once she made her a purple velvet jacket, and once a tailor-made skirt. As for nightgowns, and petticoats, and things like that, trimmed with lace, and sometimes with pink and blue ribbon, Wooden was so well supplied that Peggy’s father said her laundry bill was becoming quite a serious item. So it will be seen that Wooden was very much better off than when she had belonged to Mabel, and had only had one red flannel dress.

We now come to the other doll of Peggy’s, of whom mention has been made.

Her name was Lady Grace. She came on Peggy’s eighth birthday, and was really a beautiful doll, as everybody who saw her bore witness. She had been born in France, although she herself was English, and the clothes that came with her were finer than any of Wooden’s. Her face was wax, and she had beautiful hair. Her eyes opened and shut, and she had the sweetest little hands and feet, with pink toes and fingertips.

Peggy loved her at once. This was not altogether because of her beauty, for Rose had been beautiful--though not so beautiful as Lady Grace--and Peggy had never been able to love Rose at all. There was something about Lady Grace which made Peggy feel that she must look after her and pet her. And she never felt, as she had felt with Rose, that all her petting was of no use. Lady Grace might not say much, but she showed that she was grateful to Peggy for all the care she took of her by being always sweet and good; though she was, as I have said, rather helpless.

Now, although Peggy loved Lady Grace from the first, it must not be supposed that she loved Wooden any the less. It was just as it is with children. When a new baby comes, the mother adores it, but she loves her other children just as much as she did before.

But, just at first, it must be confessed that Wooden had rather less attention; and if she had not been so sensible she might have felt jealous. I don’t think she did, or she would have told Peggy so afterwards. She probably knew exactly how things were, and that, when Lady Grace had been made to feel quite at home, her turn would come again.

Well, one night when Peggy went to bed, she took Lady Grace and Teddy with her, and left Wooden on the top of a chest of drawers with all her clothes on. And then Wooden might have felt a little sad, because it was the first time that such a thing had ever happened to her; and she might have begun to wonder whether, after all, Peggy loved her quite as much as she had done before.

But fortunately for this story, which might not otherwise have been written, as you will presently see, soon after Peggy had been tucked up and left to go to sleep, she remembered that she had not undressed Wooden. So she called her nurse, who was in the next room with the door a little open, and asked her to give Wooden to her.

The nurse would not let her have two dolls in bed with her. Teddy didn’t matter because he was so soft. So Peggy asked her to put Lady Grace in the dolls’ cot, and give her Wooden instead. She felt dreadfully sorry that she had forgotten about Wooden, and wanted to make it up to her. Lady Grace would have to get used to sleeping in the cot some time or other, and Peggy thought she might just as well begin now.

So Peggy went to sleep hugging Wooden in her arms; and Teddy lay on his back on the pillow on the other side of her, with one paw stuck up in the air and the rest of him under the bedclothes.

By-and-by the nurse came in to look at her, and then went to bed in the next room. Then her father and mother came in and kissed her, but she did not wake up. Then the house became quiet and dark, and everybody in it was fast asleep.

And then things began to happen.

II

PEGGY’S SURPRISING ADVENTURE BEGINS

Peggy was awakened by the noise of a motor outside. It sometimes happened that her father had to go out at night, and she heard the car start off. But she generally went to sleep again as soon as ever the noise had died away.

But this time the car, instead of standing throbbing for a few minutes before the door, and then starting off down the drive and leaving everything as quiet and still as before, seemed to be coming nearer and nearer. In fact, it seemed as if it was being driven right into the room, and made such a noise that Peggy opened her eyes. And when she did open them, she opened them very wide indeed, for the car _was_ in the room, standing right at the foot of the bed. And who should be driving it but Teddy, whom she had last seen lying on the pillow by her side?

And that was not nearly all, for everything was changing all around her. The apple-blossoms on the wall-paper had become real apple-blossoms, and were dancing in a bright spring breeze; the ceiling had melted away into blue sky; and suddenly the little birds that had been sitting in a long row on the bough which ran round the top of the paper flew up all together and filled the air with their singing.

Peggy sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. When she looked again there was Wooden standing by the side of the bed, smiling at her.

“Get up, dear,” said Wooden in the kind and gentle voice that Peggy had known she would speak in if she ever spoke at all. “I am going to take you to Toyland.”

Teddy spoke at the same moment. He waved a paw in the air and said, “What ho! What larks!” and sounded his motor-horn.

Now the moment that Wooden and Teddy spoke, Peggy left off being surprised altogether. Everything seemed quite natural, and she jumped up full of pleasure at the idea of an adventure.

The moment her feet had touched the floor, lo and behold! she was fully dressed, in a clean blue over-all, with her outdoor shoes and her big straw hat trimmed with daisies. Her face and hands were washed, her nails scrubbed, and her teeth cleaned; and her long hair, which was always plaited for the night, was brushed and tied up with her blue ribbon.

“Come along, dear,” said Wooden, taking her hand. “We must start at once. Are you quite ready, Lady Grace?”

“Yes,” said a soft, musical voice. Peggy looked towards the dressing-table, and there was Lady Grace pinning on her hat. She came and kissed Peggy. “I am sure you will like Toyland, dear,” she said, “and it is a great honour to be taken there.”

Both Wooden and Lady Grace seemed to be grown up all of a sudden, and ready to take care of Peggy, instead of her taking care of them. Lady Grace had on the beautiful French clothes in which she had come, and Wooden was dressed in her purple velvet jacket and her grey tailor-made skirt. She wore the straw hat that had come at the same time as Rose, and looked very nice altogether, but a little different, because her nose was now perfect, and her face and eyes and hair had got all their colour back. She had a wonderfully kind and simple expression of face, and Peggy felt that it would be quite safe to go anywhere with her.

Teddy was also life-size. Peggy had always known that he was of a very cheerful nature, for his face had always seemed to be laughing at some joke. But he seemed to be rather forward in his manners, for as Lady Grace kissed Peggy he said with a sort of crow, “What ho, girls! You jump up and sit alongside me, my lady, and we’ll have a nice little chat as we go along.”

“Be careful, Teddy,” said Wooden in a warning voice.

“Oh, I’ll be careful all right,” said Teddy encouragingly. “Oh, what larks we’re going to have!”

Lady Grace got up in front of the car, and Peggy and Wooden behind. It was not Peggy’s father’s car, but a toy one which had been given to her. But it was now big enough to hold all four of them comfortably.

Teddy sounded his horn and gave a whoop of joy, and the car drove straight out of the bedroom into the garden, though how it got there from her nursery on the first floor Peggy could never remember.

Now, although it had been winter when Peggy went to bed, and the thermometer on the pergola outside had registered two degrees of frost, it had suddenly become the most delicious spring and summer weather combined. When Peggy saw the garden she clapped her hands with delight. Never was seen such a blaze of colour. Everything was out at once--all the trees, and all the shrubs, and all the flowers. The house was smothered in roses and honeysuckle and clematis. The daffodils were dancing in the grass. The rhododendrons and azaleas flamed against the green of the darker shrubs. Every flower in the long border was in full bloom, from the scarlet anemones of the early spring to the yellow sunflowers and Michaelmas daisies of the late autumn; and so were the lilacs, white and purple, the guelder roses, the syringas, the may-trees and laburnums, the pink almond, and the Pyrus Malus Floribunda, which was Peggy’s favourite tree, though she never quite got its name right. There were thousands of blooms in the rose garden; the climbing roses trained over the pergola were as gay as gay could be; and even the newly-planted nut-walk had grown twelve feet in a few hours, and made a shady green tunnel through which you could see the park beyond.

But there was not much time to take in all the wonders of the garden, for Teddy whirled them through it in no time, out into the road and down to the village. The car seemed to be going faster than Peggy’s father’s big new one, but it travelled so easily and so smoothly that Peggy, who was a little nervous of motors going very fast, said, “What a nice drive we’re having!” As they passed the clock over the Abbey gateway the hands were pointing to twelve o’clock, and Peggy, who could of course tell the time, knew somehow that it was really twelve o’clock at night, and not twelve o’clock in the daytime, although the sun was shining with all its might. And as they turned and drove up the village street all the windows had their blinds down, and there were no people about.

“Where are we going?” Peggy asked.

“We are going to Toyland,” said Wooden. “We all go there every night when people are asleep, and it is a lovely place; I am sure you will like it, dear. And I must tell you that it is very seldom we are allowed to take little girls there. When you were so kind to me, and rescued me from Mabel, I told the Queen about it, and asked if I could bring you. And she said that if you went on being kind to me for three years and a week I might bring you; but if you once grew tired of me and neglected me, the three years and a week would have to begin all over again. You can’t think how I have been looking forward to it, dear. Yesterday I was able to tell the Queen that you had never once neglected me, and Lady Grace said the same. She is one of the Queen’s ladies-in-waiting, and she thinks a deal of her. So the Queen said, ‘I shall be very glad to see such a nice little girl. Bring her tomorrow.’”

When Wooden told her this Peggy remembered that she had not been _quite_ so attentive to Wooden since Lady Grace had come, and wondered what would have happened if she had left her to sleep on the chest of drawers with all her clothes on that very night. It would have been too awful if she had had to begin the three years and a week all over again, after so nearly getting through it once.

But Wooden did not refer to that at all, and Peggy felt grateful to her, and took hold of her hand and squeezed it. And Wooden squeezed Peggy’s hand in return, and smiled at her and said again, “Toyland is a wonderful place. I am sure you will like it.”

When they had passed through the village Teddy took the road towards the sea. He drove very well, and talked all the time to Lady Grace, sometimes leaning towards her and saying something in his gruff, hearty voice, and sometimes throwing his head back and laughing loudly. Lady Grace seemed to be receiving his attentions kindly, but Wooden looked a little anxious, and leant forward sometimes and joined in the conversation.

“Lady Grace is engaged to Colonel Jim of the Lifeguards,” she explained to Peggy. “The Queen takes a great interest in the young couple, and I promised her that I would give an eye to Lady Grace. The Queen trusts me, you know, dear.”

“Shall I see the Queen?” asked Peggy. “What is she like?”

“She is not very well,” said Wooden sadly. “I don’t know whether you will be able to see her, but I hope so.”

“What is the matter with her?” asked Peggy.

“Well they told me last night at the Palace that they were afraid she had a mump.”

“What is that?”

“Why, you know all about that, don’t you? You have had mumps yourself--several of them. If a doll has more than one it is generally fatal. But I quite hope that the Queen has not got any; and if she is better I am sure she would like to see you. You asked what she was like. Well, she is wax, of course, and she is about a hundred years old, or perhaps a thousand, or a million, but quite as beautiful as ever. She was one of the first wax dolls ever born, and they made her Queen because they admired her so.”

“Is there an elective monarchy in Toyland?” asked Peggy, who had got on quite a long way in history.

Wooden did not seem to understand the question fully, but she answered in her soothing voice, “No, dear, all the animals are tame; you need not be afraid of any of them.”

They drove on towards the sea, and when they got within sight of it Peggy cried out, and clapped her hands with pleasure.

For the sea was full of boats crowded with dolls all going to the Island. It was the prettiest sight. There were hundreds of toy yachts with their white sails, steam-boats and motor-boats and clockwork boats and rowing boats, and even boats made of paper, and walnut shells. The sun was shining brightly on this gay scene, and the water was as calm as possible, so that there was no chance of anybody being seasick.

“Why, they are all going over to the Island!” said Peggy. “Are we going there, too?”

“Oh, yes,” said Wooden. “The Island is Toyland; I forgot that you didn’t know that. That is where all the dolls live. Those who are finished with your world live there always, and the others go there every night. At least it is night with you, but of course it is day with us. And when it is day with you it is night with us.”

“Like Australia,” suggested Peggy.

“Yes, dear,” said Wooden. “I like it very much.”

“But if you go to Toyland every night, and it is day there, you never have any real night at all,” said Peggy.

“No, dear,” said Wooden reflectively. “I suppose not.”

When they reached the shore Teddy turned to the right. “Are we going to the Bungalow?” asked Peggy.

“That is where we shall set sail for Toyland,” said Wooden. “And, you know, I have two relations there.”

Peggy could not think what she meant for the moment. Then she remembered the two wooden figure-heads, and asked Wooden if they were her relations. Wooden said they were. One was her mother and one was her aunt. “I’m sure you will like mother, dear,” she said. “Aunt has wonderful high spirits, and doesn’t always behave as she ought, through picking up sailors’ ways. But she says herself she never did no harm to nobody, so we must overlook it.”

It was well that Wooden had given Peggy this warning about her aunt, or Peggy might have been rather surprised at her behaviour when the car drew up before the grass-plot by the Bungalow. The two figure-heads, now full length and moving about freely, were waiting for them, and when she saw them coming Wooden’s aunt gave a loud screech and rushed forward to meet them, but caught her foot on a root of gorse and fell full length in front of the car.

Teddy very cleverly stopped the car at once, or he might have run over her. Then he jumped down and lifted up Wooden’s aunt, who was not hurt at all, but screeched with laughter again. Teddy seized her round the waist and waltzed up and down the grass with her, kicking up his legs and being very silly. Peggy was surprised to see him going on like that, but Wooden’s aunt seemed to enjoy it thoroughly, and when he had finished she sat plump down on the grass, with her legs sticking out in front of her, and simply roared with laughter, and said, “Lawks! you _are_ a one!”

In the meantime Wooden had introduced Peggy to her mother, who was as fresh as paint could make her, but had a weather-beaten look, too, and a husky voice, owing to her having taken so many sea voyages that the fog had got into her throat. She said that she was very pleased to see Peggy, because she had heard a lot about her, and when they got on to the boat they must have a nice long talk.

“Aunt seems in very good spirits today, mother,” said Wooden, looking at her doubtfully as she was being danced about the grass by Teddy. Wooden’s aunt was really being rather common, and Wooden would not like Peggy to think that her relations were common.

Just at that moment Wooden’s aunt sat down on the grass in the rather vulgar way already described, and Wooden’s mother said to her sharply, “Now, Polly, do adone now, and remember what company you’re in. Get up, and come and be introduced to the little lady.”

So Wooden’s aunt came and shook hands with Peggy, and gave her a smacking kiss, which tasted of salt. “Dear little precious! Bless her!” she said in quite a kind voice, which made Peggy like her a little better. “Lawks, Maria! _She_ ain’t one to mind a body having a bit o’ fun.”

III

THE ROYAL ARK AND THE BAD BEHAVIOUR OF WOODEN’S AUNT

Lying tied to one of the groins, which seemed to have widened out into a sort of pier, was a rakish-looking clockwork steamer, with a red hull and a broad white line above it, all very smart and clean.

“Why, it’s my very own steamer,” cried Peggy, “just as it was when it was new, only much bigger.”

“Yes, dear,” said Wooden. “We use it every night to take us across to Toyland. You didn’t know that. You will see all your other toys when we get across, and some of them are coming with us.”

“Is the man who shoots pennies into my money-box coming?” asked Peggy.

“Yes,” replied Wooden. “He is the Queen’s head game-keeper. He shot the three china hares that stand on the nursery mantelpiece. He shot them with the sixpences you got out of the Christmas pudding.”

The steamer and the pier beside it were now crowded with doll sailors and doll passengers preparing to take the journey across the water to Toyland, and the road along the beach in both directions was full of dolls hurrying to the various starting-places. Every row of piles along the shore had turned into a pier, and scores of boats were moored alongside them, in which dolls were embarking.

But still they came, from north, east, and west. Many of them were in motor-cars, others were packed into wooden carts, the babies were being wheeled in prams, and many were walking. Some way off Peggy saw a troop of lead soldiers riding down to the shore on black horses, and they looked very fine with the sun shining on their helmets and breastplates.

Lady Grace shaded her eyes and looked at them, too, and Wooden said to her, “Lady Grace, I believe that is Colonel Jim’s regiment.”

Teddy turned round and grinned at them, and said, “What ho, girls!”

Wooden said sharply, “Now behave, Teddy, and don’t let’s have any byplay.”

They all embarked in the toy steamer, and Peggy was pleased to find her own sailor doll acting as captain of it. Very well he did it, too, standing on the bridge and shouting his orders down a tube, while the steamer was loosed from the quay and started off at a splendid pace, making a hundred knots an hour across the blue calm water.

It was a delightful voyage, pleasanter even than the motor drive had been. The sun was shining so brightly, and every one seemed so pleased to be going to Toyland. They could hear the dolls laughing and singing from the other boats, which were all round them. On one of them was a toy piano with five notes, on which a gentleman doll with long hair was playing a tune so difficult that you would never have thought it possible if you had not heard him.

Wooden’s mother and aunt went forward and stood in the bows of the boat as she drove across the sea. They sniffed the salt breeze with rapture, and their brightly-coloured faces glistened in the sunshine. “This,” said Wooden’s mother, “is Life!” And Wooden’s aunt enjoyed it so much that until they came to the other side she said nothing vulgar or common.

But the moment the steamer began to move, although the water was as smooth as it could possibly be, Teddy became as green as pea soup and rushed downstairs to the cabin.

“He’s always like that, poor fellow,” said Wooden. “I suppose it comes from being a bear. He will be all right when we get to the other side.”

Very soon the voyage was over, and the toy steamer came alongside a quay carpeted with red felt. There were many other landing stages all along the shore, at which other boats were landing their doll passengers; but the steamer was the only one which came alongside this special quay. It was decorated with flowers and flags, and round it stood a row of wooden soldiers, with shiny black bearskins, red coats, and spotless white trousers. They lined three sides of the square, and looked very smart, all of exactly the same height, and all standing at attention.

Wooden seemed to be rather embarrassed as the steamer made fast alongside this gaily decorated quay. “This is the royal quay,” she said to Peggy. “Only the Queen uses it. There must be some mistake.” And she asked the captain why they were landing there.

“Orders, ma’am, orders,” said the captain briefly, touching his cap.

“I expect,” said Lady Grace, “that it is to do honour to our little visitor.” She put her hand on Peggy’s shoulder and smiled at her.

Wooden’s honest face beamed with pleasure. “Now, I do call that kind of Her Majesty,” she said, “very kind indeed.”

The wooden soldiers all presented arms as Peggy stepped off the steamer between Lady Grace and Wooden, while Wooden’s mother and aunt followed them, and Teddy came up from below no longer looking green, but quite cheerful again and grinning all over. One of the soldiers let off his gun by mistake. He had only lately joined the regiment, and did not quite understand the words of command. The captain of the wooden soldiers boxed his ears soundly, and nobody took any further notice of the episode, which, however, had far-reaching effects, as will presently appear.

Directly the party had landed, a band struck up and led the way along a broad carpeted passage, which was also lined on one side by wooden soldiers. On the other side was the water, for the royal quay was at the mouth of a broad river, and a little farther on was another quay towards which they were going. And here Peggy saw an extraordinary and pleasing sight.

There was a large, gaily decorated Noah’s Ark lying at the second quay. At each end of the house on the Ark was a big platform. The one in front was shaded by a gaily striped awning. There was also a carpet on it, and big pots of flowers, and comfortable chairs and little tables. On the platform at the back stood Mr. Noah in a long yellow robe, and Mrs. Noah in a blue robe. Mr. Noah had taken off his black shiny hat, and was bowing low, as Wooden and her party approached the Ark.

But the most curious thing of all was the long line of animals that were standing two and two along the towing-path by the river. They were all in charge of the rest of Mr. Noah’s family, and were harnessed to the Ark, which they were evidently going to pull. There were two elephants and two camels, giraffes, zebras, cows, hyenas, leopards, and a lot more, all much the same size; and at the head of the procession were two antelopes. Hovering round the Ark were a great number of birds--wild geese, and rooks and parrots and peacocks and canaries and budgeree-gars and others, all flying in pairs.

“The Queen’s own Ark,” said Lady Grace. “It must have been sent down for somebody. I wonder who.”

“Do you think it could be for a specialist?” Peggy asked. “They do send for them, you know, if anybody is ill.”

“Oh, I do hope her mump isn’t worse,” said Wooden.

“I expect it’s sent down for me,” said Wooden’s aunt, with her vulgar laugh. “She knowed I was coming all right.”

“Now, Polly, behave,” said Wooden’s mother. “Mr. and Mrs. Noah are looking at us.”

Mr. Noah advanced to the side of the Ark and bowed to Wooden. “I have been ordered to bring the Ark down for you and your party,” he said. “I hope we shall have a nice trip up the river.”

Wooden turned to Peggy with a pleased smile on her face. “Now that is an honour,” she said. “I am so pleased, dear. It is a most lovely ark inside.”

Then she asked Mr. Noah how the Queen was, and he shook his head and was just going to tell her how the Queen was when Wooden’s aunt gave a wild whoop, and picking up her skirts ran along the quay, kicking her feet out in front of her, and shouting, “Come on, girls! Here’s larks!”

And I am sorry to say that Teddy joined her, and they danced up the quay together and rushed down the bridge from the bank to the ark, jostling each other and quite spoiling everything by their behaviour.

“Oh dear, oh dear!” said Wooden’s mother in a vexed voice, “Really, Polly does carry on something awful.”

But Mr. Noah only laughed and said, “I like a little fun sometimes.”

Then he led the way to the platform in the front of the ark, and Mrs. Noah walked by Peggy and said to her, “I like your face very much. I am sure we shall be friends.”

The captain of the wooden soldiers now gave some words of command, and all his troops fell into their places ready to march alongside the ark. Mr. Noah blew a whistle, and his sons made themselves very busy unfastening ropes, pushing the ark out into the river, and getting ready to start the animals. Mr. Noah blew his whistle again when the ark was clear of the shore, and with a great deal of shouting and cheering, the procession of animals started off, and pulled the ark at a good pace up the river.

It was a very pleasant journey. The air was warm and the sky was blue. All the different animals that were pulling the ark were very interesting to look at, and the birds that flew in couples overhead were very pretty, too, and sang most melodiously.

They had not travelled very far before a smart servant doll in cap and apron came out of the house in the ark, and said, “Would you like to take a little light refreshment?”

Wooden’s aunt instantly jumped up from her chair and said, “I’m always ready for my grub.” Then she pushed in front of all the others and rushed into the house in the most vulgar and objectionable manner. And again, I am sorry to say, Teddy followed her.

Wooden blushed with annoyance at the behaviour of her relative, and Wooden’s mother said in an angry voice, “It is really too much. But please don’t think because she is my daughter’s aunt that she is my sister. Quite the reverse. I wouldn’t own her. My poor brother married much beneath him. He was a wooden Scotchman of irreproachable character, outside a tobacconist’s shop, and a perfect gentleman in every way.”

Peggy smoothed the wounded feelings of Wooden and her mother, and said it didn’t matter. “I think I had better say a word to Teddy,” she said. “He is not behaving nicely.”

“Oh, she leads him on,” said Wooden’s mother, who was still very much annoyed.

“Teddy has always been flighty, for a bear,” said Wooden. “I haven’t liked to say anything, dear, but I think it would be a good thing if you were to speak to him. He would pay attention to you.”

When they got inside the house of the ark they found a most beautifully furnished apartment, with big windows on either side, through which the scenery on the banks of the river could be observed as they went along.

On the table was spread a most sumptuous repast. There was a dish of chicken, consisting entirely of wishing-bones; there was a pudding made of one gigantic chocolate cream; there were little baby bananas growing on a live tree in the middle of the table; there were sandwiches of toast and butter and watercress and blackberry jam and potted prawns, all mixed up together in the most ingenious manner, and very seductive to the palate; there was a birthday cake and a wedding cake; there was a jelly that tasted of violets and another that tasted of carnations; there were delicious drinks, from the sweet and comforting chocolate of the cold north to the iced sherbet of the burning south; there were dozens of crackers, and every one of them contained a beautiful toy, a motto, a cap of coloured paper decorated with gold and silver, and a small but valuable piece of jewellery. In short, there was every delicacy of the season, and all in the utmost profusion.

Wooden’s aunt was already deep in the repast when they got inside. She was purple in the face, and beginning to breathe heavily.

“Such greed I never saw,” said Wooden’s mother, eyeing her severely. “She has not even washed her hands.”

Teddy, however, was nowhere to be seen, and the servant-doll said that he had gone out by another door into Mr. Noah’s cabin. Mr. Noah had invited him to have a steak and onions with him. Peggy was rather glad not to have to rebuke him before company, for she was fond of Teddy. She thought that if he were kept away from Wooden’s aunt he would probably behave all right.

The servant-doll had led them into a nice airy bedroom, which opened out of the main saloon, and Peggy washed her hands, and then put on a very pretty pinafore made of lace and chiffon, which the servant-doll gave her. When they were all ready they went into the saloon and sat down at the table, and much enjoyed their repast, while the ark was drawn rapidly along the winding river.

Unfortunately their enjoyment was marred by the continued bad behaviour of Wooden’s aunt, who went on as if she had really never been in respectable company before. When she could eat no more--and that was not for a long time--Wooden’s mother gave her a dose of Gregory powder, which she always carried about with her for such emergencies, or she would probably have died. As it was she felt very ill, and said so in a thoroughly vulgar manner.

Wooden was most distressed at her behaviour, but she was so kind-hearted that she could not help making excuses for her. “Greediness and vulgarity and vanity are her only failings, poor thing,” she said. “Otherwise she has a very charming character. We all have our little weaknesses, and we must not think too much of them.”

“I’m ashamed of her,” said Wooden’s mother. “And I shall tell her so to her face directly she regains consciousness.”

For Wooden’s aunt was now stretched on one of the luxurious sofas of the saloon in a state of complete collapse.

“Let us leave her there,” said Lady Grace. “She will be better when we arrive at Dolltown.”

IV

MOMENTOUS NEWS IS BROUGHT BY A DUTCH DOLL

They left Wooden’s aunt in the saloon and went on deck again, and seated themselves in the comfortable chairs under the awning, from which they could observe the scenery. This was very beautiful.

They were now going through a mountain gorge. The river was narrow here, but deep. The mountains came steeply down into the water, and on one side of the river was a road cut in the rock, along which all the animals were walking two by two, pulling the ark at a smart pace. Perched up on the mountains here and there were pretty wooden Swiss chalets, large and small; and numberless clean wooden cows, with bells round their necks, were browsing in the mountain pastures, which were gay with flowers. The wooden peasants who were looking after them showed great interest in the progress of the ark. They came running down the steep paths to see who was on board, and shouted and waved their hats in their excitement.

By-and-by they had passed through the mountains, and had come to a perfectly flat country, planted with wooden poplars of a vivid green. Here and there were farms--dear little wooden houses with doll-farmers living in them, and taking care of more wooden animals, cows and horses, and sheep and pigs. After a time they came to a small town consisting of streets of dolls’ houses, with a church built of toy bricks.

“Oh, I would like to go into one of those dear little houses,” said Peggy. “Can’t we stop here, Wooden?”

“We shall see much better dolls’ houses than those when we get to Dolltown,” said Wooden. “I have got a very nice dolls’ house myself, bigger than any of those. I shall take you there, dear, and you will occupy the spare room. And I will show you the Queen’s Palace, which is finer than any of them.”

At this moment Mrs. Noah came forward, and stood by them smiling, as if she would like a little conversation.

“Won’t you sit down, Mrs. Noah?” said Lady Grace politely; and Mrs. Noah thanked her and sat down.

Mrs. Noah was a large smiling woman who liked to make friends. She smiled at Lady Grace, and Wooden, and Wooden’s mother, and Peggy, and then said suddenly, “I thought you’d like to know how it all was.”

Of course they would like to know how it all was, though they didn’t quite know what she meant. So they smiled back at her, and then she began.

“Of course he is wood,” she said, “begging your pardon, Lady Grace, and I ought to like him on that account. But the truth is that I don’t, and can’t.”

There was a little pause, and then Wooden’s mother said, nodding her head wisely, “Ah, I know who you mean, and I don’t much like him either. I suppose because he’s a foreigner.”

Wooden shook her head, but said nothing. Lady Grace said, “I hate him; but then I’m wax, you see.”

Peggy wondered who they were talking about, but just as she was going to ask Wooden, Mrs. Noah looked at her, and said, “Why, bless me! the little lady must be thinking that we’re talking in riddles.”

And then she told the following story:--

Some time before, a ship had been wrecked on the coast of Toyland, and all its passengers drowned except King Selim. He had been brought to Dolltown, and, because he was a king, Queen Rosebud had given him a set of rooms in her palace, where he had lived very comfortably ever since.

“What was he King of?” asked Peggy.

Mrs. Noah hesitated. “I really don’t know, dear,” she said. “Do you know, Wooden?”

“No,” said Wooden. “I never thought of asking.”

It seemed that nobody else had ever thought of asking either. They knew he must be a king because he said he was. Besides, he wore a crown. Everybody was very sorry for him, because his Queen had been drowned when the ship had been wrecked, but when some time had passed and he had got over that, he had become rather interfering, and he was not so much liked now as he had been, especially by the Waxes. For although all the dolls in Toyland generally lived happily together, still there was always apt to be a little feeling between the Waxes and the Woodens. The Waxes thought the Woodens were rather common, and the Woodens thought the Waxes were rather stuck up.

“Of course, speaking for myself,” said Mrs. Noah, “I’ve never had no quarrel with a Wax in my life, and, if I may say so, have as many friends among the Waxes as I have among the Woodens.”

She looked at Lady Grace, who said, “The Queen has always disliked having anything said against the Woodens, and has often told me that if she had not been born Wax she would have liked to be born Wood.”

There were murmurs of approbation at this speech, and Wooden’s mother said, “Wax is as wax does, I always say. If all was as polite as the Queen, there wouldn’t be no trouble at all. But you haven’t told us about the Queen’s health yet, Mrs. Noah.”

“Well,” said Mrs. Noah, “it’s my belief that the Queen is dead.”

“Dear, dear!” said Wooden’s mother. “And such a nice lady as she was, too.”

“What makes you think that, Mrs. Noah?” asked Lady Grace. “Surely I should have heard of it if it had been true.”

“Well, perhaps you would, Lady Grace,” said Mrs. Noah. “Anyhow, she is alarmingly ill, and has appointed King Selim regent, to act in her place until she gets better. And if she dies, King Selim is to reign in her place. You see, the Queen having no children, naturally the only other royal person in Toyland has to reign instead of her.”

“Is that the law in Toyland?” asked Peggy.

Mrs. Noah looked at her affectionately. “Bless your pretty face, what questions you do ask, dear,” she said. “I don’t know nothing about the law, but it’s what King Selim says, and of course he knows, or else he wouldn’t say it.”

“Oh, no,” said Wooden decisively. “Some people don’t like him, but he isn’t as bad as that. Was it him that ordered the royal barge to meet us, Mrs. Noah?”

“Yes, it was,” said Mrs. Noah. “Now I must be getting back to my old man. He says there ain’t no flavour in his pipe unless I fill it for him.”

“I hope the Queen isn’t really dead,” said Wooden, when Mrs. Noah had left them. “That would indeed be a sad pity. Look, dear, you can see Dolltown now. It won’t be long before we are there now.”

The ark had turned a bend in the river, and Peggy could see across the flat plains a large town with an enormous tower standing in the middle of it.

“That is the House of Cards,” said Wooden, in answer to her question. “It stands in the middle of the market-place, and is thirteen stories high.”

“What is it used for?” asked Peggy.

“It is used for going to the top of, dear,” replied Wooden. “You get a magnificent view of the surrounding country, and when you have looked at it you come down again.”