Adventures in Toyland Part 10

"I have not the slightest fear as to the ladies' decision," he boastfully remarked.

"When I look in the gla.s.s I see how impossible it is that they should have anything but one opinion. By the by, a most curious little incident occurred last night. I was sauntering about my end of the counter, when the white Polar Bear walked right up against me. 'Hulloa!' I said, 'look out where you are going.' 'I beg your pardon, I'm sure,' said he; 'It was a little mistake. I was trying to find my way home, and catching sight of your right eye, mistook it for the Polar Star and guided myself by its light.' 'Very flattering,' I said, 'but I'd prefer you not to tread on my toes.' Strange, wasn't it?"

"Most strange!" the Butcher jeered. "The Polar Bear has never been able to see clearly since the shopwoman's baby poked out both his eyes. Your story is a little far-fetched, my good chap."

"Oh, what a surprise!" laughed the Clown, as the Hansom-driver, unable to avoid looking a little silly, turned his head aside and pretended to sneeze.

"I've a piece of news for you," said the Baker; "another surprise. The ladies have made up their minds already. Instead of a fortnight they have only taken a week to decide. They have but one opinion, and the Clown has been instructed to deliver it to you to-morrow morning when you come to give your orders. I may warn you that you will find a great crowd of Toys waiting to hear it."

"Let come who will," vaunted the Hansom-driver. "_I_ fear no crowd. The more Toys to witness my moment of triumph, the better."

And it was in this frame of mind that, on the following morning, he drove to the Butcher's shop, outside of which a large crowd was gathered.

"Well," he said with a smile to the Clown who headed the crowd; "well, and what is the ladies' opinion about my beauty?"

"The ladies have decided," said the Clown, nodding his head and speaking very rapidly, "the ladies have all decided--mind you, _all_ decided--that you _are_ a hansom man. And so say I."

The Hansom-driver climbed down from his seat.

"Shake hands," he said. "One doesn't find a fellow of sense like you every day."

The Clown shook hands, then turned a somersault and grinned from ear to ear.

"Handsome," he said slowly, "but _without_ the _d_ and the _e_. Mark that, my child. No _beauty, but a hansom man_. Ho-la! What's the time of day? Time to go away?"

For the Hansom-driver had mounted to his seat, and, whipping up his horse, was driving off as fast as he could.

CHAPTER VII

"That was very funny," said the little girl; "it made me laugh very much."

"It made all the Toys laugh," said the Marionette--"except the Hansom-driver himself. And, perhaps, he might be excused for not doing so."

"He _was_ a vain thing," said the little girl.

"He was," the Marionette agreed. "However, we must not be too severe on him. He had his good points after all. He was not bad-tempered, for example, like poor Claribelle, who at one time was quite unbearable, and made herself disliked by everyone. Though in the end, poor creature, she became, it is true, an altered character."

"'Poor Claribelle!' Who was she?"

"A young lady doll whose bad temper, unfortunately for her, brought her great sorrow.

"I should like to hear about her," said the little girl.

The little Marionette mused a moment. "I should not do wrong to tell you," she remarked. "The story of this poor, proud creature may perhaps serve as a lesson and warning to some other haughty and fanciful young lady. Yes, you shall hear to-morrow evening of Claribelle." And so the next evening, in a grave voice that befitted the tale, she told the story of "Proud Claribelle."

PROUD CLARIBELLE

Claribelle was a very haughty doll. She was very beautiful, with great brown eyes and a ma.s.s of dark hair that fell to her waist. She had fine clothes, too; a pink silk dress, a large straw hat trimmed with lace and pink roses, pink silk stockings and bronze shoes, and round her neck a string of pearls, which were the envy of every lady doll in the toy-shop.

She held her head very high indeed, and would not speak to this doll because it was "frumpish," or that doll because it was not in the same set as herself. The China Doll she really could not be on intimate terms with, because she had a crack across her cheek. Fancy being seen walking with a cracky person! Also, she must really decline being introduced to the Farthing Doll. A very good, worthy person, no doubt, but really she and a doll worth a farthing could not possibly have many tastes in common.

As to the Rag Doll, she was a pus.h.i.+ng person. At a tea-party at which they had both been present, she had asked Claribelle if she didn't think that skirts were fuller. To think of discussing clothes with a creature of rags! The idea was really too comical!

It was thus, and in this proud spirit, that Claribelle talked about the other and more modest Toys. There were, indeed, very few that she would take the slightest notice of. As a matter of fact, when she walked down the counter she held her nose so much in the air that it was very rarely she saw anyone. She did not care in the least whether she trod on other people's toes or not.

From this you will easily understand that she was a Toy who gained more admiration than love. There was, however, one who was truly devoted to Claribelle. This was the Driver of the Wagon, who was always of the opinion that beneath her haughty manner lay a kind heart. They were engaged to be married, and with true affection he often spoke to her about her haughty manner to the other Toys.

On such occasions Claribelle tossed her head and flew into a pa.s.sion, often sulking for hours afterwards. Yet, although she so sorely tried the Driver's patience, he continued to love her. And when all other means had failed he would often sing her back to good temper, for he had a beautiful tenor voice.

He was a little proud of his voice, and used to practise every night, partly because he loved music, also because he delighted to show his devotion to Claribelle by singing her little love-songs in a well-trained manner.

He was of a kindly, genial nature, so that you would have thought it was hardly possible to quarrel with him. But Claribelle's pride not seldom caused a dispute between them, and she would often start a heated argument without any reason.

It was thus one day that a quarrel arose which ended in the most serious manner.

They were out driving in the Wagon, when the Driver, remembering he owed a call on the Farthing Doll, proposed that he and Claribelle should go thither.

"What!" she exclaimed haughtily. "Pay a call on that Farthing creature!

_Certainly_ not!"

"I, at least, must go, sooner or later," the Driver replied.

"Why?" she asked much displeased.

"Because did I not call," answered he kindly but firmly, "I should be lacking in courtesy to a lady who has never shown me anything but the utmost civility. However, since you do not wish it, I will not go to-day."

"I do not wish you to go at all," she said. "But I see it is quite sufficient for me to say that I do not desire you to do a thing, for you to do it."

And after this she sulked and said she did not love him.

Upon this the Driver bethought him a new song he had just learnt, and he determined to sing it in the hope of winning her back to good temper. So he began:

"'Oh, down in Alabama, before I was set free, I loved a dark-eyed, yaller girl, And thought--'"

But he got no further, for here Claribelle interrupted him.

"Does that apply to _me_?" she said with flas.h.i.+ng eyes.

"Well, you _have_ dark eyes, you know," he said pleasantly, hoping to make her smile. "Beautiful dark eyes, too."