The Lonesomest Doll
hats pulled down over their eyes,—if they had any,—and their iron gloves grasping strange and dangerous weapons. But the doorkeeper looked so particularly alive and fierce that Nichette steered past him in a wide half-circle, keeping her eyes on him to make sure that he did not turn and follow her out of the little door opposite the first one.
She did not pause to examine the beautiful banners and shields hung all about, nor the curious patterns of suns and stars made upon the walls by the blades of glittering swords and lances and knives. It was a wonderful room, but the next one was even more wonderful. Nichette entered on tiptoe, and though she had expected to see a tempting sight, she could not help crying “Oh!” to find it even more delightful than her dreams.
Around the four walls were boxes upon boxes of toys, packed one above another. Games and carts, toy animals and doll-houses, and things that went when you wound them up, stood all about on the floor. And there were shelves of picture-books rising to the ceiling. Everything