Front matter (continued 2)

Then the Queen again smiled upon them.

"Don't worry, my dear," she exclaimed, brightly, "I'll find some way out of our difficulty when I have used my thinking machine. Until then you must come to my palace and be treated as my guests."

"Thank you," said Dot and Tot together.

The Queen turned to the wooden Captain and commanded:

"Escort these strangers to my royal palace, and see that you treat them most politely; for although they are in reality my prisoners, they have been guilty of no intentional wrong and seem to be nice children."

The wooden Captain removed his wooden hat and bowed very low, so low indeed that Tot could see the peg on the top of his head that held the hat on when it was in place.

"Your Majesty's commands shall be obeyed," he said.

Then the Queen stepped into her carriage, the rag coachman cracked his whip, and the wheels of the horses' platform began spinning around. Then the Queen rode swiftly up the street to her royal palace.

Dot and Tot followed more slowly, for the Captain who escorted them was exceedingly small and walked stiffly, having no joints in his knees. As they trudged along Tot asked the Captain:

"Why do the horses go on wheels?"

"Because they're made that way, I suppose," was the reply.

"Why don't they make 'em to walk on their legs?" continued the boy.

"It would tire them too much," answered the Captain. "Being on platforms, the horses never get tired, you see, for the wheels do all the work."

"Oh!" said Tot, "I see." Then, after a pause, he asked:

"What do you feed 'em?"

"Cotton," answered the Captain. "We keep them quite full of it all the time. That's what makes them look so plump and healthy. What do they feed horses on in your country?"

"Hay," said Tot.

"We tried stuffing ours with hay once," remarked the Captain; "but it made their skins look lumpy, it was so coarse; so now we use cotton altogether."

"I see," said Tot again, in a rather bewildered voice.

The street they were walking upon was smooth and level, and the houses they passed were neat and pretty; but both the children noticed there were no people to be seen anywhere about the village. This seemed strange, and Dot was about ask who lived in the houses, when they arrived at the gate of the palace, upon which the Captain knocked three times with the handle of his wooden sword.

Thereupon the gate opened slowly, and they passed into a beautiful flower garden, and walked along the green-bordered paths until they came to the high-arched doorway of the palace.

Dot had only time to notice that there were seven golden stars above the doorway, when the Queen herself appeared and led them through a hall into her drawing room, having dismissed the wooden Captain with a nod of her royal head.

Although the house was by far the biggest one in the Valley, the tops of the doors were only a little way above Dot's head, and when the children sat down in the drawing room they chose the biggest chairs, and found them just about the right size.

"Now, my dears," said the pretty Queen, "it is almost dinner time, and I know you must be nearly starved; so I will have you shown at once to your rooms, and when you have bathed your faces and brushed your clothes you shall have something nice to eat."

She touched a bell that stood upon a table near by, and at once there came into the room a little boy doll, dressed in a brown suit with brass buttons. He was larger in size than any doll Tot had seen outside of Merryland, yet he was not so big as the Queen herself. When the children looked at him closely, they could see that his face and hands and feet were knitted from colored worsteds, while his eyes were two big black beads.

This curious doll walked straight up to the Queen and bowed before her, while she said, "Scollops, show this young man to the laughing chamber, and wait upon him while he arranges his toilet."

Scollops, as the knitted boy seemed named, bowed again and murmured, "Your Majesty shall be obeyed." Then, turning to Tot, he took his hand and led him from the room. The hand felt soft and woolly to Tot, but he did not object to it, for Scollops had a merry expression to his face that won the little boy's heart at once.

"Where are we going?" he asked, as they began to mount the stairs.

"To the laughing chamber," replied Scollops; and having reached the top of the stairs, they walked down a long hallway and entered a room so odd and pretty that Tot stopped short and gazed at it in astonishment.

In many ways it was like an ordinary room, for it contained a dresser, a bed, chairs and a table. But upon the wall were painted hundreds of heads of children—boys and girls of all countries, with light and dark hair, straight and curly hair, blue and black and brown and gray eyes, and all with laughing faces. The posts of the bed were also carved into laughing baby faces; the chairs and the dresser showed a face upon every spot where there was a place for one, and every face throughout the whole room had a smile upon it. To match the rest of the furniture, the carpet had woven upon it in bright colors all kinds of laughing children's faces, and the effect of the queer room was to make Tot himself laugh until the tears roll down his cheeks.

When the boy had looked the room over and seen all the faces, Scollops helped him to wash his hands and face, to comb his hair and to brush his clothes, and when this task was finished, the woolly doll said:

"I will now show you why this room is called the laughing chamber. Lie down upon the bed a moment—but don't get your shoes against the clean covers."

Tot lay down upon the bed, and at once heard a sweet, tinkling chorus of laughter coming from every part of the room. It was so delightful and soothing that he listened to it rapture. Softly his eyes closed, and in another moment he would have been sound asleep had not Scollops raised him to his feet and said:

"It is not time for sleep yet, for you haven't had your dinner. But the laughing faces will make you slumber peacefully when the time comes, and give you pleasant dreams, too."

o sooner had Scollops taken Tot from the drawing room than the Queen touched her bell a second time, and in answer to the summons a neatly dressed doll maid entered the room and made her bow before her pretty mistress. This maid was a pleasant looking little person; but Dot noticed her eyebrows were painted upon her face, and her hair seemed painted on, too, only the little white cap nearly covered it, so it didn't show much.

"Twinkle," said the Queen, "show this young lady to the musical chamber and wait upon her as she dresses for dinner." Then, turning to Dot, she added, "I shall retire to my own room and use my thinking machine while you are gone, so that I may know what to do with you. Your coming has completely upset my life, for I never thought to see strangers in Merryland. But you must not worry. Doubtless, my thinking machine will show me exactly what to do with you, and in any event I could not harm two such gentle children as you and Tot."

She nodded smilingly and left the room, while the maid Twinkle led Dot up the stairs and along the hallway to her room.

The girl thought she had never seen a prettier chamber, although she had always been daintily cared for by her wealthy parents. The bedstead was of pure ivory, and the pillows were covered with creamy-white silk, embroidered with white flowers. The bedspread was of pure white, too, and over it were thickly sewn many brilliant diamonds, while the fringe along the edges was made of diamond beads. The chairs and sofas were covered with white brocaded silks, and the velvet carpet was scattered with lilies-of-the-valley on a delicate green groundwork.

In one corner stood a beautiful little dressing table with a big mirror above it, and through a draped doorway Dot saw a luxurious little bathroom with a tub of white marble.

"It's a lovely room," said Dot to the maid; "but why did the Queen call it the musical chamber?"

"Sit down, please," was Twinkle's reply. So Dot seated herself in an easy chair, and no sooner had she touched the cushions than the sweetest strains of music fell upon her ears. She listened to it delightedly until the piece was finished, when Twinkle raised her to her feet.

"The music will play as long as you sit there," she said. "Try the sofa."

Then Dot sat upon one of the sofas, and heard the strains of a military band, seemingly far away, but sounding sweetly and distinctly, nevertheless.

Twinkle now led her to the bath-room that she might bathe her face and hands, and when the water fell into the basin it played an inspiring waltz tune. The brushes which the maid passed through Dot's hair were musical, too, and everything she touched seemed to play to her the most ravishing strains of melody.

"Now," said Twinkle, "lie down upon the bed a moment."

Dot obeyed, and heard a chorus of sweet, childish voices singing such dreamy, soothing lullabies that her eyes closed in spite of herself, and she was almost asleep when Twinkle aroused her and bade her attend the Queen's banquet.

"The voices will sing you to sleep when bedtime comes," said the maid; "but now you must have dinner and learn what fate the Queen of Merryland has in store for you."

She walked to a door that was half hidden behind a rich drapery, and, pushing it open, showed Dot that it led to the laughing chamber. It was with real pleasure that the girl saw her friend Tot, who had at that moment just risen from his bed.

The boy eagerly showed her all the gay, mirthful faces in his room, and they made Dot laugh out of pure sympathy. Then she brought Tot into her own dainty chamber, where he sat upon a chair and heard an orchestra play a merry schottische. But Twinkle and Scollops were now impatient to hurry them away, so soon they descended the stairway again and were ushered into the royal banquet room.

The Queen had arrived there before them, and her was face was smiling as sweetly as ever. She set Dot upon one side of her at the big table and Tot upon the other side.

This table was spread with delicate glassware and rare vases of fragrant flowers, and the dishes they ate from they perceived were of solid gold.

"How did you like your chamber?" the Queen asked Dot.

"It is delightful," she answered. "I did not think there could be such a beautiful room in all the world."

"And were you also pleased?" inquired the Wax Doll, turning toward the boy.

"My room's fine," replied Tot; "it made me laugh!"

The dinner was now served, and certainly no more delicious meal was ever eaten by children, unless they chanced to dine with the Queen of Merryland. There were many courses of rich and rare edibles, and each dish Dot and Tot thought could not be surpassed until they tasted the next one.

"Really," said Dot with an admiring glance at her Majesty, "you must be a fairy."

"To be sure I am!" laughed the pretty Queen.

"Still, you are not like any fairy I have read about," continued the child, gravely.

"No, I suppose not," returned the Wax Doll. "You must know that fairies are as different from one another as other people are, and the reason you have not read about me is because the folk who write fairy tales have never been to Merryland."

"That is true," agreed Dot. "Tot and I were the first to discover you."

"Yes, and you were very wrong to do so," added the Queen, reprovingly. "But I have used my thinking machine, as I promised, and it has shown me an easy way out of my difficulties."

"What will you do with us?" asked Dot, looking at the Queen so anxiously that she forgot to drink her nectar.

"I'm going to adopt you," was the calm reply.

"Adopt us!" exclaimed the girl, wonderingly.

"Yes, that is the only thing to do. You are going to be my adopted daughter, the Princess Dot of Merryland; and your companion must become my adopted son, Prince Tot of Merryland."

"But must we always live here?" enquired Dot.

"Can't we go home again?" demanded Tot.

"Those are questions I cannot answer now," said the Queen. "For the time, at least, you must live with me, and I think you will be delighted with this Valley and all the pretty things I have to show you. Should you ever grow tired of Merryland we will talk about your leaving it. At present you will be wise to think of nothing but your happiness in becoming members of the royal family of this kingdom."

The boy and girl listened to this silently and thoughtfully, for although the Queen smiled, she spoke with a dignity and authority that made them realize she was very much in earnest. But seeing that her guests looked serious and troubled, the little lady soon rose from the table, saying more cheerfully as she did so, "It is nearly time for my army to drill, so, if it please you, we will sit upon the balcony and eat our ice cream while we watch the soldiers."

Dot and Tot sprang up at once and followed the Queen to a balcony that ran across the front of the palace. Here they seated themselves and were served with delicate ice-cream hollyhocks upon golden saucers by Twinkle and Scollops.

"Why do you call the maid Twinkle?" Dot asked the Queen.

"Because she steps so quickly and so softly, like the twinkling of a star, and because her eyes are so bright and sparkling," answered the Wax Doll.

"Why do you call him Scollops?" enquired Tot, pointing his finger at the boy doll.

"Because his hair is all knitted in scollops, and he has scollops around his wrists and at the bottom of his trousers."

Tot looked, and sure enough the scollops were there.

"You see we always have a reason for the names we bear in this kingdom. It is only in the big outside world that people have names that mean nothing," said the Queen.

"What is your name?" asked the girl.

"Haven't you heard it?" enquired the Queen, with a surprised look.

"No; I have only heard you called the Queen," said Dot; "but, of course, you must have a name of your own."

"Oh, I certainly have," answered the little lady. "My name is——." Then she stopped suddenly and leaned over the balcony, while she held up one of her pink hands and whispered: "Listen!"

The children now heard the sound of martial music approaching, and in a few minutes there marched around the corner of the palace a band of pewter musicians. They were dressed in brightly painted uniforms and marched proudly and in excellent time, while they played as loudly as possible upon their instruments.

Following the band came a squadron of pewter soldiers on horseback, and the horses reared and pranced, while the officers waved their pewter swords above their heads in an impressive manner. Next came the foot soldiers, company after company, wearing red painted uniforms and blue painted uniforms, as well as uniforms of green and yellow paint.

Not a man in the entire army was more than six inches high, and all were made of pewter—just like the boxes of soldiers you buy at the toy shops; but they marched like real live soldiers, and there were so many of them that it was actually an impressive sight.

As each company passed beneath the balcony where the Queen sat, the men saluted her respectfully and the officers raised their hats, while the doll Queen bowed graciously in return.

"Isn't that a fine army?" she asked, proudly.

"They're rather small for soldiers," replied Dot.

"I could kick 'em all over with my foot!" said Tot.

"Oh, but that would be wrong," exclaimed the Queen. "Surely they haven't done you any harm."

"No," said Tot; "but I could fight 'em all."

"It's wrong to fight," remarked the Queen, reprovingly.

"Then what do you have soldiers for?" questioned Dot.

"Why, to march and drill and look pretty, of course," answered the Queen. "I thought everyone loved to see soldiers march."

"I suppose they do," said the girl.

"No one should wish to hurt such brightly dressed creatures," continued her Majesty, "nor should a soldier wish to harm anyone else."

"Yet the wooden Captain at the gate threatened to stick his sword into us," declared the child.

"That's different," replied the Queen. "The wooden soldiers are guardians of the Valley, and it is their duty to threaten and scare folks. But had the Captain really hurt you with his sword, I should have had the quarrelsome fellow chopped into kindling wood. He's quite dry and would burn nicely."

They sat for some time watching the pewter soldiers drill, and finally the entire army marched away again. When they had gone, the little village seemed as silent and deserted as it had been before.

ow," said the Queen, "you must come to my throne room and be adopted."

So she led the way and they followed her to a beautiful apartment, large and grand, with high ceilings set with precious stones. In the middle of the room stood the Queen's magnificent throne.

Seating herself among the cushions of the throne, her Majesty touched a bell which brought Scollops running in.

"Send to me all the people of my household, as quickly as possible," commanded the Queen of Merryland. "I am about to perform an important ceremony, and they must all witness my act."

Scollops bowed and retired, and the Wax Doll turned to Dot and Tot and remarked, "I've never adopted anyone before so I don't know exactly the form of ceremony I ought to employ; but I shall do the best I can, and that ought to be satisfactory to you."

"Oh, yes," said Dot. "I suppose so."

"Does it hurt?" asked Tot.

"Does what hurt?"

"To be 'dopted."

"I hope not," said the little Queen; "I shall try to be as gentle as possible."

The members of the household now entered the room and the children found there were a good many of them. All were dolls of some sort; but Dot noticed the Queen was the only wax doll in the Valley, so far as she had seen. Among the household servants the cooks were black dolls, the chambermaids were china dolls, and the others seemed mostly made of wood, although there was one elderly doll that was clearly papier-maché. These knelt down in a circle before the Queen and remained in this humble position during the Ceremony of Adoption.

Her Majesty began by making a speech, in which she told how the strangers had been carried by accident into Merryland.

"It was not their fault," she said, "but when I consulted my thinking machine I found I must do one of two things—either turn them into dolls by means of my fairy wand, or else adopt them as my children. They seem so much bigger and prettier than dolls that I have decided to adopt them, so I have called all my people in to witness my act."

The servants of the household loudly applauded this speech, and one of the chambermaids clapped her hands so earnestly that she broke off one of her little fingers.

"Dot Freeland," now said the Queen, in a solemn voice, "kneel down upon my footstool."

Dot was a little frightened, for never before had she heard the Queen speak in any voice but a laughing one; but she knelt down obediently, and the Queen placed upon her head a small golden crown with four points, each point being tipped with a flashing gem. Then the Queen said:

Dot rose at once and sat on the Queen's right hand, while all the household applauded again; but this time the china chambermaids were more careful of their fingers. The girl longed to take off her pretty crown and look at it, but she felt it might not be dignified to do so; therefore she sat quietly, as a princess should, while Tot in turn knelt upon the Queen's footstool.

The fairy doll placed upon Tot's head a crown almost exactly like the one Dot wore, saying to him in her gentle voice:

Tot shoved the crown to the back of his head, where he usually wore his hat, and seated himself at the Queen's left hand.

The assembled household now cheered loudly and long, and in the midst of the uproar the wooden Captain entered at the head of the pewter band, and the musicians blew upon their instruments so powerfully that the big throne room was filled with music.

All this was decidedly pleasing to Princess Dot and Prince Tot, who felt very proud of themselves and most grateful to the generous Queen.

Scollops and Twinkle now served lavender-colored ices to those present at the Ceremony of Adoption, and the pewter band finished playing and marched away again. Then the Queen took Dot and Tot to the drawing room of the palace, where the children had leisure to thank her and to admire their pretty crowns. The Wax Doll smiled sweetly upon them, and seemed quite as pleased as her adopted children at the success of the ceremony.

Presently Dot asked, "Does no one live in those pretty houses in the village?"

"Yes, Princess," answered her Majesty; "they are full of people."

"But we have seen no one except the dolls who live in this palace," remarked the child.

"That is true," returned the Queen, "for I have been so busy since your arrival that I have not had a chance to awaken them."

"Are they all asleep?" asked Tot.

"Well, not exactly asleep," answered the Queen; "but they are dolls, like all the rest of us in this Valley, and they only move around and talk when I bring them to life by means of my fairy wand. At one time I kept them alive continually, but it was such a bother to manage them all that I changed my plans, and now I let them lie in their houses until I wish to amuse myself with their pranks. I have only to wave my fairy wand three times and blow my magic whistle to arouse the whole village to activity. But then I always have my hands full trying to make them behave properly."

"That seems a nice way to rule," said Dot, thoughtfully. "If every king and queen were able to do the same thing with their people, there could not be so much quarreling nor so many wars."

"True enough," laughed the Queen; "but real, live people would not like to be treated that way. Would you like to see my village wake up?"

"Yes, indeed!" exclaimed Dot.

"Then I will order our carriages so we may drive down to the village."

The Queen called Scollops and sent him for three carriages "For," she said to Dot and Tot, "there is just enough room in the royal carriage for me, and as there are no bigger ones in the Valley, we must each ride in a separate carriage."

It was not long before the three carriages, each drawn by horses standing upon wheeled platforms, and driven by rag doll coachmen dressed in the royal livery of pink and blue drew up before the gate of the palace. Dot had hard work to squeeze into the seat of her vehicle, and when she succeeded she had some fears that it would tip over, or the wheels would come off the horses. But Tot, being smaller, fit his carriage nicely, and being younger and a boy, he had no fears of any accidents.

So now the drivers cracked their whips and away they rolled, the Queen first, Dot next and Tot last of all. When they reached the main street of the village, the three carriages drew up near the sidewalk, all in a row, and the Queen said:

"Now I will awaken the people."

She waved the fairy wand three times around her head and blew a shrill blast upon the magic whistle.

Instantly a commotion arose all about them. Doors and windows began to open, and from the houses flocked many dolls of all sorts and sizes. There were china, bisque, wooden, papier-maché, rag and rubber dolls, with yellow hair, red and brown and white hair, and complexions ranging from the daintiest pink to the deepest black. Some were finely dressed, some well dressed and some shabbily dressed; but all seemed and light-hearted, and they ran about singing and dancing chatting to each other as happily as if they had not been asleep for so long a time by their Queen.

"I don't understand how you can make dolls act like real people," said Dot, as she watched them with wonder.

"No, I suppose not," replied her Majesty. "But if you were a fairy, as I am, you would know all about it."

The Queen now left her seat in the carriage and entered a pretty little cottage that stood near by. Dot followed to doorway and, peeping in, saw that this entire cottage was occupied by an enormous music box.

"I'll make it play," said the Queen, "for my dolls love to dance to the music."

Thereupon she touched a spring, and at once strains of delightful melody came from the big music box.

Dot hastened outside again and found the street filled with dolls, who were dancing joyously to the bewitching music. After watching them for a time in silence the Queen said:

"Now they have had enough fun for one day, so I will send them to sleep again."

She waved her wand once and the music stopped playing. The dolls stopped dancing and began to say good-night to one another. A second time the Queen waved her wand above her head, and then every doll hurried to its own home, and the doors and windows began to close again. But Dot and Tot could hear the dolls laughing and talking in the houses until the Queen waved her wand for the third and last time, when silence fell on the village, and her Majesty turned to the children and said:

"Now they are fast asleep again, and will remain so until I choose to awaken them."

"They are lovely dolls," said Dot, sighing to think the entertainment was ended, "and I should love to play with them all day long."

"Sometimes I have kept them awake all day myself," replied the Queen; "but that is when I am lonely and need amusement. No one can be dull while those laughing, romping, mischievous dolls are awake. But I must have a talk with my new Prince and Princess this evening, so I could devote but little time to my people, and only awakened them to satisfy your curiosity."

"Can't I have a doll to keep?" asked Tot, as they drove back to the palace.

"Yes, my dear Prince," answered the Queen. "I'll give you Scollops. You will find him very useful and a jolly playmate."

Tot nodded his thanks, and soon they reached the palace and accompanied the Queen to her room. When all were seated the Wax Doll said, "Tomorrow I must leave you here alone, for I am going upon a journey."

"Where to?" enquired Dot, greatly surprised at this announcement.

"I shall go up the river to the end of Merryland, where you entered the First Valley. Since you have found a way to enter my kingdom from the big outside world, I have been greatly worried for fear others would also come here. To prevent this I must visit the Watch-Dog of Merryland, and tell him how to keep anyone from passing the archway."

"Oh, the Watch-Dog cannot keep people out," said Dot. "He's too polite and good-natured. When we said we would not mind him he was sorry, but he didn't try to stop us."

"Well," replied the Queen, "that is why I must make the journey. I shall command the Watch-Dog to sit hereafter upon a rocky shelf above the arch, and then if people will not obey him, and try to get through the arch in spite of my orders, the old man must jump into the river in front of the opening. As soon as he touches the water he will be turned into a great rock, which will block up the archway and prevent anyone from entering my kingdom."

"Oh, I see," said Dot. "Then the Watch-Dog may be of some use, after all."

"I hope so," declared the Queen.

"But what shall we do while you are away?" asked the girl, anxiously.

"You may amuse yourselves by running about the palace, and all my household will wait upon you and obey your orders; for you are now Prince Tot and Princess Dot of Merryland, and your power is second only to my own."

"That's nice," said Tot.

Twinkle now led Dot to her room and helped her prepare for bed. The diamond coverlet was rather heavy to sleep under, so Twinkle laid it aside and covered the girl with a soft, fleecy robe.

Tot also went to his laughing chamber, accompanied by Scollops, who helped him undress and threw over his head a pretty pink silk nightgown. Tot wanted the door between his room and Dot's left open while they slept, so Scollops opened it and the children called good-night to each other.

When Dot lay down upon her bed, the fairy chorus began to sing softly and sweetly; and when Tot lay down the invisible laughter of childish voices rang out like chimes, keeping time to the tinkling chorus from Dot's bed. This was all so soothing and delightful that in less than a minute the children's eyes had closed, and soon they were fast asleep and dreaming sweet dreams of the wonders of Merryland.

ot and Tot awoke early, but the sun was already flooding the palace with its silver rays, and they made haste to dress and join the Queen at breakfast.

This meal was as dainty and satisfying as the one they had partaken of the night before, and the wax Queen laughed and talked so pleasantly that no one would have suspected she was about to undertake a long journey.

"I shall try to return by sundown," she said to them, "so you will only be alone during the day. I advise you to pass the time by exploring the Valley, and if you wish to ride, the royal coachmen will take you wherever you wish to go."

"May I ask a favor?" said Dot, timidly.

"Certainly, Princess; ask whatever you will," returned the Queen, as she threw a scarlet cloak over her shoulders and prepared to start.

"I would like you to waken the dolls of the village before you go, so that Tot and I may play with them," said the girl.

The Queen reflected a moment before she replied, "The dolls are often mischievous when they have a whole day to themselves, and you might find them troublesome. However, as you will be sure to enjoy their merry pranks, I'll do as you wish, and leave you the dolls for playmates."

"Oh, thank you ever so much!" cried Dot, gratefully.

The Queen now called the carriages and they all rolled down to the main street of the village. Here her Majesty waved the magic wand three times, and the dolls immediately awoke and began such a chattering and such romping play that the Queen herself became bewildered and ordered the coachman to hasten to the river bank.

Dot and Tot went with her to see her start upon her journey, and when they had passed out of the big gate, which the wooden soldiers opened for them with respectful salutes, the Queen said:

"I am going to borrow your boat, for it will be the easiest way for me to reach the Valley of the Watch-Dog."

"But you can never row it up stream," said Dot; "and there is but one oar."

"Oh, I shall not need the oars at all," responded the Wax Doll, and seated herself in the boat.

"Do you know," said the girl, "that you have not yet told us your name?"

"Didn't I tell you yesterday?" returned the Queen, as if surprised.

"No, indeed," said the girl.

"Well, that was very careless of me. I am so busy that sometimes I forget to do things. But I must be going, so goodbye my dears; I hope the dolls won't bother you too much."

"We shall enjoy them," replied Dot.

The Queen now waved her fairy wand and at once the boat glided from the shore.

"Good-bye, your Majesty!" cried Dot and Tot together.

Swiftly the boat floated up the stream—so swiftly, indeed, that the water rippled like music against the bow. The children waved their handkerchiefs at the fairy doll until she had reached the arch leading to the Valley of Babies, when they passed through the gateway and, dismissing their coachmen, walked up the village street to visit the dolls.

These were really becoming rather boisterous and ran about in circles, playing "I spy," and blind-man's buff, and London Bridge with much laughter and noise. When they saw Dot and Tot they ran up to them and cried:

"Start the music box! We want to dance."

"I do not know how. The Queen has the key with her," answered Dot, shouting loudly that she might be heard above the tumult.

The dolls seemed greatly disappointed at this, and one saucy-looking wooden-jointed doll said crossly:

"The Queen has no right to go away and take the key. How are we to amuse ourselves all day unless we can dance?"

"Tot and I will play with you," answered Dot.

"Very well," said a big China doll which wore a rather soiled and ragged dress. "What new games do you know?"

Dot mentioned several; but the dolls laughed at her, crying out: "That's old! We're tired of that! Give us something new!"

"The old games are very nice games," said the girl, "and I do not see why you should object to playing them."

"We'll object if we want to!" declared a worn-looking kid doll, whose joints were so ripped that they scattered sawdust whenever it moved. "You're not our Queen."

"But I'm your Princess," said Dot, with dignity, "and while the Queen is away I have the right to rule in this Valley."

"So have I," said Tot.

"Then rule!" shouted the saucy wooden doll. "Rule as the Queen does, and give us music to dance by."

"Yes! yes!" they all cried. "We want to dance!" And they flung their arms over their heads, and leaped and pranced so energetically that the ground was quite strewn with sawdust that leaked out of them.

Dot was much troubled at the noisy demands of the dolls. She had expected a quiet and happy day playing with these pretty creatures, and now, even in the first hour of their awakening, they were proving very troublesome. Tot seemed to enjoy the excitement, however, and stood behind Dot, with his hands in his pockets, smiling gleefully.

While she was thinking what was best to be done, the rag doll Scollops came up to Dot and said:

"Since the music box is locked up, why do you not order out the pewter band to play for them?"

"That is a good idea," she exclaimed, her face brightening. "Go at once, Scollops and tell the musicians to come and play."

While Scollops was on this errand the dolls became more noisy than ever, and one of them tried to knock Tot's crown off. But the boy gave the naughty doll such a strong push that he pushed over a dozen or more that stood behind it.

"Don't hurt them, Tot," said the girl; "remember they are not strong and will break easily."

"I'll smash 'em if they touch me!" cried the boy, indignantly; "I'm Prince Tot."

Fortunately, the pewter band now made its appearance, and at Dot's command they stood in a circle at one edge of the road and began to play a waltz.

The effect of the music upon the dolls was laughable. They immediately began waltzing around as merrily as could be, and paid no further attention to Dot and Tot. While they danced the dolls kept up a continual chattering and laughter, and they looked so sweet and happy that the children could hardly realize they had been so cross and unreasonable a short time before.

"If they are kept busy they won't get into mischief," said Scollops, who had come back with the band; "but even her Majesty the Queen cannot manage them when they have nothing to amuse themselves with. I'm a doll myself and I know."

"What does she do when they are naughty?" asked Dot.

"She puts them to sleep," was the answer.

Dot had almost regretted asking the Queen to leave the village dolls awake all day; but she loved to watch them dance, and they seemed quite contented now.

"Don't they ever remain quiet, and visit with each other, and rest?" asked the girl.

"Never," replied Scollops. "They always are unhappy unless they are rushing around or playing or dancing."

"They wouldn't make very comfortable playmates, would they, Tot?" she said.

"No," he answered, gravely; "don't like live dolls."

But it amused them to watch the little creatures capering about, so the children sat down upon a door-step and enjoyed the dancing until Twinkle came to tell them their luncheon was ready. Then they quietly stole away, unnoticed by the dolls, and walked to the palace, where they had a delightful luncheon and were waited upon by Scollops and Twinkle.

While they were yet at the table they suddenly heard a great noise and clamor at the palace gate, so they at once ran out to see what was the matter. Crowding before the gates was an excited throng of dolls, screaming and stamping and waving their hands in the air as if they had really become crazy.

At first Dot could make nothing of their cries, for all were talking at the same time; but she asked Twinkle what the trouble was about and the maid answered:

"The musicians must have stopped playing."

"I wonder why they did that," said the girl.

Here Scollops, who had been down to the gate and spoken to the dolls, came up to Dot, bringing with him the leader of the pewter band.

"What caused this trouble?" she asked.

"They are so unreasonable," replied the musician, in a complaining voice, "that no one can manage them except the Queen. We had played dance music for several hours and were all tired out, for our lungs are only pewter, and no true musician likes to play such common music continually. So we thought we would rest ourselves by playing something slow and really classical—for all classical music is slow, you know. But no sooner had we started the introduction than those soulless dolls became violent. They rushed at my poor musicians, threw them down, and trampled upon them! Every member of my band is either bent or broken. Even I have a bent back and a twisted leg, and my horn is badly damaged."

Dot looked at him and saw that he spoke truly.

"I'm very sorry," she said, nervously. "I'm sure I don't know what to do with them, for the Queen will not return before sundown."

The dolls had remained outside the palace gates until now; but as Dot looked anxiously toward them, the gate flew open and one of the rebellious creatures ran up the path to where the children stood. She was dressed in a rather fussy way, and had big black eyes that stared straight at one. Her hair was tangled and matted, and she had lost one shoe and worn a great hole in her stocking, through which her toes peeped out.

"What do you want?" asked Dot, as this doll came near.

"We want our dinner, of course," answered the doll, saucily.

"But I didn't know dolls could eat," said the girl.

"Well we do, and now we want to be fed. Do you think it is right and proper to keep us awake all day and then refuse to give us any dinner?"

"What do you eat?" enquired Dot.

"What could a doll eat but sawdust? Nearly all of us have danced more or less sawdust out of our bodies, and now we want them filled up again," continued the doll.

"But I have no sawdust, nor do I know where to get it," answered the child.

"The Queen has a house full of it in the village. Give us the key and we will help ourselves," said the doll.

"The Queen must have taken the key with her," returned Dot, helplessly; "I know nothing about it."

"Then we shall break down the door," declared the doll, and stamping her feet with anger she rushed back to her companions.

When they learned that the Queen had carried away the key to the sawdust house the dolls became much excited and ran off with loud shouts to tear down the door of the house.

Dot was both vexed and worried, for Twinkle declared the Queen would be much provoked if her pretty house was battered and broken.

"Let's call out the army," exclaimed Tot, suddenly.

"That's a good idea, Tot," said the girl, and at once sent Scollops to order the pewter soldiers to march into the village and preserve order. But the rag boy soon returned with the news that the soldiers refused to obey.

"They are not used to fighting," explained Scollops, "and they fear the dolls will treat them as they did the pewter band. Besides, they declare the Queen detests fighting, and would blame them for interfering with the people of the village."

"The soldiers are toys and the people are dolls," added Twinkle; "so they sympathize with each other."

"They didn't seem to sympathize with the band," said Dot.

"No, but the band had no right to play classical music in public."

"Perhaps you are right," said Dot, thoughtfully.

She saw now that she must let the naughty dolls have their own way; but she went down the street with Tot and Scollops and watched the crowd break down the door of the house. They took away quantities of the Queen's sawdust and carried it to their homes, where they made it into pies and cakes and feasted merrily upon this queer food.

This gave them something to do and made them happy for a while, and Dot was profoundly grateful for a period of rest and quiet; but she feared the dolls would break forth into more mischief before the day passed, and so it proved.

For toward evening they again became restless, and as there was no music to be had they decided to make some of their own. So they gathered up a lot of tin pans for drums and pot covers for cymbals, and several of the dolls got combs and put paper over them. When they blew upon these combs and hummed a tune it sounded almost like music; so they formed a procession, with the doll musicians at the head of it, and marched all over the village, singing loudly:

They marched up to the palace gate and back again, and when they came to the house in which was the big music box, one of the cried:

"Let us break the door down and start the music!"

"Good, we will!" screamed some of the most mischievous dolls.

"What do we care for the Queen?" yelled others.

They made a rush for the house, and Dot, now angry and determined that the Queen's music box should not be spoiled, ran to the door and placed her back against it, while she cried out, "If any of you dare to come nearer I will whip you soundly!"

The dolls hung back at this, but they threw a shower of tin pans and combs and pot covers at her, which rattled against the house, but did not hurt her a bit. Suddenly, amidst all this riot and turmoil, the girl was amazed to see every doll become silent and motionless. They ran in all directions to their homes, and as the street became clear Dot saw, standing there alone, the Queen of Merryland, who was waving for the third and last time the fairy wand which would put every doll in the village fast asleep.

"Oh, your Majesty!" cried the girl, running to her, "I'm so glad you've come home again!"

ou see, Princess," said the Queen, when they were safely within the palace, "it is rather dangerous to leave the dolls awake while I am away. I feared, after I had started, you might have trouble with them, and so hurried back as soon as I could. Did they frighten you?"

"A little," said Dot, "for they would not be quiet an instant."

"No; that is the way with dolls. If one wishes to take any comfort with them they must be kept asleep. Then we can love them and play with them as much as we desire, but while they are awake they are sure to cause no end of trouble."

"I'll keep my dolls asleep," said Tot, with decision.

"Yes," agreed the girl, "they are nicer that way. But did you see the Watch-Dog of Merryland?" she asked the Queen.

"Yes, indeed; and I told him just how to block up the archway if any more strangers appeared," was the answer.

"Was he countin' his whiskers?" asked Tot.

"Not when I arrived. I think he was playing with a piece of jelly cake."

"Oh, yes," said the girl. "Tot gave it to him."

The Queen was silent for a time, and appeared to be thinking without her machine, which made the girl anxious. But finally her Majesty said, "Now that I have looked after the safety of my first three Valleys, I feel I should visit the last three, for it has been years since I have entered them."

"Can't we go with you?" asked Dot, eagerly.

"I cannot answer that question now, for I have not consulted my thinking machine, without which I never make an important move, but I will let you know in the morning."

Dot and Tot were all excitement after that to know what the thinking machine would advise, for they were curious to see the remaining Valleys of this wonderful country. But the Queen said no more about the journey that evening, and devoted herself to entertaining them in such a pretty and modest way that they grew to love the big Wax Doll very dearly.

Before breakfast the next morning, however, they asked what her thinking machine had said, and she at once replied:

"You may, if you wish, go with me to visit the other Valleys. Since you are my adopted children and a Prince and Princess of Merryland, it is right you should know all about your own country; therefore we will make the journey together."

"That's lovely!" cried Dot, with delight. "When shall we start?"

"Whenever you please," answered the Queen. "As you seem so anxious, we may as well start after breakfast."

"Good!" exclaimed Tot, who was already busily eating; "I'm ready."

So, breakfast being finished, they all walked down to the river, wearing their golden crowns and feeling happy at the prospect of new adventures.

They found the boat lying beside the steps outside the wall, and the wooden soldiers who were on guard saluted them respectfully as they seated themselves and made ready to start. The Queen sat in the middle of the boat, with Dot at one end and Tot at the other. But now they were not obliged to wait for the slow current to carry them along.

For when the pretty Queen waved her fairy wand around her golden head, the boat shot out from the shore and glided swiftly toward the rocky arch that led to the Fifth Valley of Merryland. This they reached in a few minutes and passed quickly through, while Dot and Tot looked eagerly ahead to see what the Fifth Valley was like.

It seemed very quiet as it lay under the rays of the morning sun, and at first the children thought the Valley resembled one of the quiet country scenes at home. For nothing remarkable met their eyes, and they felt rather relieved at the contrast between this and the wonderful Toy Valley they had just left.

Yet Dot soon decided the place was inhabited, for they came to a queer looking group of buildings standing near the shore. These could not be seen clearly at first, but the boat drew nearer every moment, and finally the Queen waved her fairy wand and some magic power carried them quickly to the shore at a spot near to the buildings.

The children sprang out upon the grass, and then they could see better what these strange houses looked like.

All the buildings were exactly alike, and stood about as high as a tall man. In shape they were square, with a flat roof, but around each roof was a stout railing. There were no windows at all, and each house had but one door, which was placed in the center, halfway between the floor and the roof. Even this was more a doorway than a door, being nothing but a square hole, with a broad shelf projecting outside and inside the bottom of the opening.

The entire group of buildings was painted a pure white, but underneath each hole, or doorway, was a big, black number. The house nearest the river on the left side was number 1, and the one on the right side was number 47; yet the houses were not laid out into streets, but stood here and there upon the smooth lawn, without any attempt at order or regularity.

"Well, how do you like this Valley?" asked the Queen, with a laugh as she saw Dot and Tot looking at the queer place with sober faces.

"The houses seem very odd—if they are houses," replied Dot. Then she enquired: "Who lives in them?"

"King Felis lives in number 1," said the Queen. "At least, he did several years ago when I last visited him. I will now call him, that I may introduce you to his Majesty."

Thereupon she gave a shrill whistle, and a moment later a great Maltese pussycat sprang upon the shelf of the doorway at number 1 and sat there for an instant crouched, with its ears pointing into the air and its big yellow eyes gazing steadily at the visitors. Then the pussy leaped lightly to the ground, and standing upon its rear legs before the Queen, he bobbed his head solemnly up and down and said, "Welcome, Queen of Merryland, to the Valley of Pussycats!"

"I thank you, King Felis," responded the Wax Doll sweetly. "But permit me to introduce to you my adopted children, Princess Dot and Prince Tot of Merryland."

The big pussy looked at the children with surprise, but nodded his head politely.

"The Prince and Princess seem like people from the big, outside world," he said, with a wise look; and then he turned to Dot and asked:

"Do you pull the tails of pussycats?"

"Oh, no!" exclaimed the girl, who was just then admiring the beauty of the cat King as well as his ability to speak.

"Or pinch their ears?" he continued.

"Never!" declared Dot.

"I did—once," remarked Tot, composedly. "An' it yelled."

The big kitty looked at the boy gravely and said:

"Should you do such a thing in this Valley I would ask the Queen to send you away at once. It is really a wicked amusement, for it hurts a pussy as much as if someone should pinch your own ears."

"All right," remarked Tot. "I'll be good."

"You will find my adopted children both kind and gentle," said the Queen; "so pray do not fear them, King Felis."

"Your Majesty rules all Merryland," he replied; "and your children shall be as welcome in our Valley as yourself. But I must call my people, that they may pay their respects to your Majesty."

"Where are they?" asked Tot, who had been looking around and could see no other living thing than the big Maltese.

"At this time of day they are asleep, as all good pussycats should be," was the King's answer. "The sun is warm and pleasant just now, and my people are enjoying their mid-day naps."

He then lifted his voice and uttered a loud, wailing cry.

Scarcely had it died away when the pussys began to appear. They leaped from the roofs of the houses, from the doorways, and even from among the shady clumps of long grass. Every house added six or seven to the number, and soon hundreds of pussycats were standing before the Queen, bowing gracefully and crying, "Welcome, your Majesty!" in all sorts of voices.

They were plump and comfortable looking, and Dot had no idea there were so many kinds and colors of pussys in the world. Some had long, silky hair, and some short, velvety hair; some had long, bushy tails, some short tails and some no tails at all. They were white and black, blue and gray, yellow and red, speckled and tortoise-shell in color. Some had pretty ribbons around their necks and some of the older ones wore spectacles; but all were as neat as wax, and seemed well cared for.

The big King was the largest of them all; yet there were many various sizes, down to the tiniest kittens with their eyes just open.

When all this array of pussys had saluted the Queen they sat down upon the grass and began to purr, while some indulged in a yawn behind their paws and others commenced to wash their faces; for they had just been aroused from a long nap.

"Your people seem happy and contented, King Felis," remarked the Queen, when she had looked them over carefully.

"Oh, yes; they are thriving finely," replied the Maltese King. "But why should they not? They have no troubles nor cares, and pass their lives in eating and sleeping. With comfortable homes and plenty of food they cannot help being the happiest pussycats in the big round world."

"I should think not, indeed," said the Queen.

"But now you must permit me to offer you the hospitality of my house," said the King. "It is nearly dinner time, and you will wish to rest and eat. Our houses are not very large, so I must divide your party and place you in separate families. The boy will be cared for by my cousin Tabby, who lives at number 16. The girl I will place with Uncle Palladius, who lives at number 9. And your Majesty will, I trust, partake of the hospitality of my humble home." And he bowed again, very politely.

"We accept your kindness with much pleasure and many thanks," answered the Queen; and then she whispered to Dot and Tot not to be afraid, for the pussys would treat them with great courtesy.

ot wasn't a bit frightened when a gentle looking pussy of uncertain age came up to him and said:

"I am Cousin Tabby, and as you are to be my guest please follow me to number 16."

The boy laughed at the idea of entering a cat's house, but he walked after the softly-moving pussy, who, when she reached number 16, sprang upon the shelf and said:

"Climb in, please."

This was hard work, for the shelf was nearly as high as his chin. But Tot had already learned to climb the trees at home, so he managed in some way to pull himself up, with the result that he lost his balance and fell head foremost inside the house.

To his surprise he alighted on a soft cushion, and then he scrambled quickly to his feet and looked around him.

The room was dimly lighted by the square doorway, but after his eyes got accustomed to the twilight he saw that upon the floor was a soft carpet, while big cushions lay around in every direction. At the side of the room was a long, low table, not higher than Tot's knee, and standing in a row upon this table were four white bowls. There was a cupboard in one corner, a big fireplace at the end of the room, and in a second corner two little gray kittens lay asleep upon a cushion.

While the boy looked at these things there sprang through the doorway another gray kitten, older and larger than the others, and Mrs. Tabby said, politely:

"This is my niece, Miss Flitter, who lives with me; and these two little ones, who were too young to go and welcome the Queen, belong to Mrs. Mewling. She has such a large family that I have adopted these children, for my house is much too large for myself and Flitter."

"Oh," returned Tot, who was rather bewildered. Then, as Cousin Tabby seemed to expect some further reply, he added: "all right."

"Now, if you will please make yourself comfortable," continued the pussy, in a soft, purring voice, "I will get our dinner ready."

She took a white apron from the peg near the fireplace and tied it around her waist. Then she placed another bowl on the table for Tot, and busied herself about the work while the boy lay on the soft carpet and stroked the silk-like fur of the two gray kittens.

While Tot was being thus entertained, Dot was led by Uncle Palladius to number 9, where he lived. Uncle Palladius was a great black pussy, and was one of those who wore spectacles, giving him a comical appearance.

Dot had harder work than Tot to climb through the square doorway of the house, but she succeeded after a struggle and was pleased with the cozy appearance of the room.

Uncle Palladius was the head of a large family, and as strangers were rare in their Valley they all gathered around the girl and looked at her curiously, while one pure white kitten came softly up and rubbed its back against Dot's leg. She stooped down, and picking up the pretty kitten snuggled it close in her arms and gently caressed it. Then she sat down upon a cushion, while the other kittens gathered around her or stretched themselves lazily upon the carpet near by.

All this delighted the girl, for she was especially fond of pussycats, although her invalid mother did not like them and had always declared she "would not have a cat in the house."

So the child had often longed in vain for a pet of this kind, and was now very happy to be able to play with so many.

She leaned down and pressed her cheek against the white kitten, while she whispered: "You sweet little darling!"

"I've got a new ribbon," said the kitten, proudly.

"So I see," replied Dot, who had noticed this. Then she asked:

"How old are you, dear?"

"It's pink," said the white kitty.

"What is pink?" enquired the child.

"My ribbon."

"Oh, yes. But tell me," she added "is Uncle Palladius your father, or your grandfather?"

"It's got a bow-knot on it," purred the kitten softly, with half closed eyes.

"What has a bow-knot on it?" asked Dot.

"My ribbon."

"Yes, dear; but we'll talk of something else," said the girl. "Are all these other kitties your sisters and brothers?"

"Mamma gave it to me," sang the white kitten, contentedly.

"Gave you what, dear?"

"My ribbon."

"Don't mind her," said another of the pussys, in a rather contemptuous voice; "it's her first ribbon, and she's so vain she can think of nothing else. Put her down and take one of us; we can talk to you in a sensible way."

"Well, let us talk, then," said the child, but she still held the vain kitten cuddled in her arms—it was so soft and pretty, she thought. "Tell me about Uncle Palladius."

"He is our grandfather," said one that had white fur with big black spots scattered over it, and which, moreover, presented a curious appearance, because one eye was surrounded by a black spot and the other by pure white fur.

"Uncle Palladius is very old and wise, and is uncle to half the pussys in our Valley. Our mother, who is named Snowball, lives with him, as he has at present no family of his own."

"Here is mother, now!" cried another kitten, and Dot looked up and saw a pussy entering the room that was by far the most beautiful she had ever seen. Snowball was large and very graceful, and her fur was the purest white, without a black mark anywhere. She sat down near Dot and asked: "Have my children been bothering you?"

"Oh, no!" declared Dot; "they are the loveliest pussys in the world."

Snowball smiled in a gratified way.

"I think, myself," she said, "that no house has a prettier or lazier lot of kittens than number 9. We can outsleep any other family I know of, and when it comes to our midnight concerts Uncle Palladius' voice is so strong it can be heard above all the rest."

"What are these midnight concerts like?" asked the girl.

"Oh, they are wonderfully entertaining," answered Snowball, "and I wish you could hear one of them. Perhaps you have noticed the railings around the roofs of our houses. Well, in the middle of the night we all sit upon these railings and have a grand concert. There are no people to throw stones or bootjacks at us, so we enjoy ourselves immensely. The house that can produce the loudest chorus, with the most varied sound, is considered the most aristocratic in the Valley, and I am proud to say that Uncle Palladius and I have the reputation of fully holding our own."

"Yes, yes!" spoke up Uncle Palladius, in a deep, bass voice; "I flatter myself I can be heard throughout the whole Valley."

"But the kittens cannot jump to the roofs of the houses, can they?" asked Dot.

"No, indeed," replied Snowball; "only those who are old enough and strong enough to jump to the roofs are considered worthy to take part in the concerts. But the little ones have the pleasure of lying inside before the fire and listening to us."

"Do you have fires?" enquired the child.

"Yes; we consider nothing more cozy and comfortable than lying before a glowing grate fire. When the evenings are chilly there is a fire in every house, and we pussys lie before it upon our cushions and enjoy its warmth. Usually we sleep all day long, and most of the night, except during the concert, which lasts from midnight until dawn."

"You must enjoy yourselves very much," said Dot, earnestly.

"Oh, we do, indeed!" replied the white pussycat; "but I see that dinner is now ready, so please come to the table."

The girl walked toward the low table with some curiosity to know how these pussys ate, and what they had for food. She found a row of white bowls sitting upon a white cloth, and each bowl was filled with fresh milk. At the ends of the table were plates of light bread with deep brown crusts.

The kittens all brought cushions to the sides of the table and sat upon them, their heads being then just high enough to reach the bowls. Dot was placed at one end of the table, with Snowball at her right hand, and Uncle Palladius sat at the other end.

"Where do you get such nice milk?" asked the girl.

"We have several springs in the Valley," answered Snowball, "where it bubbles up constantly."

"And where do you get the bread?" Dot next enquired.

"That grows upon the tall trees you see scattered about. We climb the bread-trees every day and gather fresh loaves."

"Don't you catch mice?" asked Dot.

"Mercy, no!" replied Snowball, in a horrified voice. "Do you suppose mice would be foolish enough to come into a Valley of Pussycats?"

"No, I suppose not," replied the girl; "but I always thought pussys liked mice."

"I have never seen the horrid animals," returned the white cat; "but there is a tradition in the Valley that some of our forefathers found mice here at one time and quickly destroyed them. They may have eaten them, for all I know; no one can be certain what his forefathers did. But none of us now living here has ever eaten anything but bread and milk, of that I am positive."

"It's such nice bread and milk," said Dot, "that I should think you would prefer it to anything else."

"We do, for there's nothing else to prefer," was the answer.

After dinner the kittens washed their faces carefully and then all of them, accompanied by Dot, left the room and walked to King Felis' house where they found Tot and the Queen surrounded by a crowd of pussys.

"Oh, Dot!" cried Tot, when he saw the girl. "I held the gray kittens after dinner, an' never dropped 'em once!"

"Was he good?" Dot asked Cousin Tabby. "Yes, he behaved very nicely," answered Cousin Tabby. "We must now bid our friends farewell," said the Queen, "for it is time to proceed upon our journey."

So they returned to the boat, and all the pussys, headed by King Felis and Uncle Palladius, went with them and politely bade them good-bye.

When they were floating in the river again the Queen asked Dot, "How did you like the pussycats?"

"They're lovely!" exclaimed the girl. "I should have liked to stay all night with them."

"Well, I wouldn't," rejoined the Queen. "The last time I passed the night in this Valley the pussys screamed so loudly at their midnight concert that the noise cracked my wax. They are much nicer to visit in the daytime."

"Why is the King named Felis?" enquired Dot, after a moment's thought.

"Because that is the name of his race. All our names have some meaning in Merryland," answered the Queen.

"I suppose your own name has a meaning, if only we knew what it was," said Dot, slyly.

"Good gracious!" cried the Queen; "haven't I told you my name yet?"

"No," said Dot.

"Then I must have forgotten that you asked it. It was very stupid of me, and I assure you I didn't mean to be rude." Then her Majesty turned to Tot and asked:

"How did you like the Valley of Pussys?"

"Fine!" said the boy. "The kitties were soft an' fuzzy, an' the bread and milk was good. But the doors," he added, solemnly, "are built too high up to be 'zactly comf'table."

hen the boat entered the Sixth Valley of Merryland our voyagers saw before them a forest of green trees growing close down to the river bank. These were so thick that they formed almost a solid wall, and they had passed halfway through the Valley before they came to a small opening, or path, running from the water's edge through the forest. To this spot the Queen directed the boat, and soon it grounded gently against a pebbly beach, and they all stepped out and stood upon the narrow path.

"Isn't there anything but trees here?" asked Tot.

"Yes, indeed, there is a very pleasant country behind the trees," answered the Wax Doll. "Follow me and I will guide your steps."

So they followed the Queen slowly along the shady path, while over their heads the branches met and sheltered them from the rays of the afternoon sun. This was gratefully appreciated by Dot and Tot, for they had left their hats in the boat and wore only their golden crowns.

After walking a short distance the Queen stopped suddenly—so suddenly that Dot nearly ran against her and Tot bumped his nose upon Dot's shoulder. Looking ahead to see what was the matter, the children found lying across the path a bright green Alligator nearly three feet long. Its back was scaly and made in short lengths, which were jointed together in a peculiar way.

While Dot and Tot were trying to make up their minds whether to be afraid or not, the Alligator turned his head toward the Queen and said, gently:

"Step on my middle, please!"

"With pleasure," returned the Queen; and she placed one of her kid slippers upon the middle of the Alligator's back and stepped to the other side of him. As she did so the pressure of her foot made a faint squeak, and the Alligator sighed with delight. Then he turned his head to Dot and repeated

"Step on my middle, please!"

"Why?" asked the girl, hesitating.

"So I can hear my squeak, of course," answered the Alligator. "If no one steps on me I might as well have no squeak at all. It is now some years since I have listened to the music of my squeak, but each day I have crawled into this path as soon as I was wound up, for I knew that sooner or later someone was sure to walk down the path and tread on me. You look heavier than the Queen, so perhaps I'll squeak louder."

"Let Tot try it first," said Dot; "I'm afraid I'll break you."

"Oh, don't worry, I've been used so little that I ought to be in good condition," said the Alligator. But Tot went first, and gave his foot a great push as he stepped on the creature's body.

The squeak was so loud and shrill that the Alligator laughed from pure joy, and cried, "Wasn't that splendid? I believe I have the finest squeak in the world! The person who made me knew his business all right."

"Who made you?" asked Dot, with quick interest.

But instead of replying, the Alligator winked his left eye at her three times and murmured softly, "Step on my middle, please!"

So Dot stepped upon his back, and being heavier than Tot, the Alligator squeaked louder than before.

"Thank you! Thank you very much!" he called, in a happy voice. "I have never enjoyed myself so much since I was made."

They walked on and left him smiling contentedly as he lay across the path, and before many minutes they reached a circular space of flat country where no trees grew at all, although the forest surrounded it on every side.

Around the edge of the clearing were wooden barns and stables with their fronts wide open, showing stalls and mangers and stabling for all kinds of toy animals. One had a sign over the door reading "Fire Engine," and another "Police Patrol." The stables were all about as high as Dot's waist, and in some of them were toy animals and stablemen, while others were entirely empty.

In the center of the space was a big merry-go-round, having thirty-four animals in rows upon its edge, all of which wore pretty saddles and bridles of bright red and blue leather. There were lions, elephants, tigers, deer, camels, horses, donkeys and several other animals, all whirling around in pairs, while a barrel-organ played sweet music. But no one was riding on any of the animals.

Between the merry-go-round and the stables was a narrow, iron railway track, built in a circle, around which was rushing a big tin engine, drawing a gaily painted train of tin cars, filled with tin passengers that never moved a bit.

The rest of the opening in the forest was filled with groups of animals of all sorts, some standing perfectly still, some walking stiffly about, and others pretending to eat grass, or slowly wagging their tails from side to side and nodding their heads up and down. Some were covered with real fur, while others were made of tin or wood and painted in natural colors.

Near the spot where Dot and Tot were standing they noticed a group of wooden rocking horses talking with their heads together, while they rocked gently to and fro upon their rockers. Back of them was one that had broken its rocker and was lying upon its side in quite a helpless condition.

Almost in front of their path stood a black, woolly dancing bear upon one of its rear legs. It remained perfectly motionless, and the Queen walked up to it and asked:

"Where is Mr. Split?"

"He is in the forest winding up the panthers and in the police patrol house oiling up the wagon, your Majesty," answered the dancing bear in a weak voice. "I've been run down now for over three hours, and expected at least half of Mr. Split to come long ago and start me going again; but he seems especially busy this morning."

"Yes, there is a great deal of work for him in the Valley," said the Queen, thoughtfully; "there really should be four of him."

"But he has only two arms when he is hooked together," returned the bear; "so there could not be more than two parts of Mr. Split that could hold a key."

"That is true," said the Queen. Then she looked up and exclaimed. "Here comes Mr. Left Split now."

Hopping toward them with wonderful speed was the queerest man the children had seen in all this queer kingdom. He was not, in fact, a complete man, but just half of a man, as if he had been cut in two from the middle of his head straight downward. This left him one ear, one eye, half of a nose and of a mouth, one arm and one leg. He was dressed in a bright red suit and carried in his hand a brass key.

"Even—, Your Maj—," he cried out, as he drew near. "Hap—see!"

He meant to say: "Good evening, your Majesty, I'm happy to see you," but there being only half of him he spoke but half of each word.

"Good evening, Mr. Left Split," replied the Queen. "I see you are as busy as ever."

"Ind—am. Anim—al—get—out ord—" By this he meant to say: "Indeed I am. The animals are always getting out of order."

"Please wind me up at once," said the dancing bear, in a complaining tone; "I've been run down for three hours."

"Ver—sor—, but can't help," remarked Mr. Left Split, cheerfully, meaning that he was very sorry. He placed the key in a small hole at the back of the bear's neck and wound it up tightly.

As soon as he withdrew the key the bear began to move its head by slow jerks from side to side, and to rest first upon one leg and then upon the other, as if it were dancing.

"That's better," it said, in a more pleasant voice; "I ought to run now until sundown."

Just then the Queen exclaimed: "Here comes Mr. Right Split," and the children looked up and saw the other half of the split man coming out of the forest a short distance away. He also had a key in his hand, but when he saw the Queen and her companions he came hopping toward them, saying in his jerky voice "—Ning,—jesty!—Come our—ley." By which he meant to say: "Good evening, your Majesty! Welcome to our Valley." But being the right half of the man he spoke on the right half of each word.

As soon as he came up, however, there was an end of this mode of speech, for the right half of Mr. Split placed his flat side close to the left half's flat side and then with both hands he hooked the two halves together with little brass hooks. Then Mr. Split looked more like a complete man, although the left side was dressed in a bright red suit while the right side wore white, so it was easy to see where he was joined together.

When he had fastened himself securely, which he did with great rapidity, the man spoke, saying, "Your Majesty has found us as busy as ever. The fact is, these animals and cars and merry-go-rounds run down very quickly, and they require so much attention that this is the first time we have been hooked together since early this morning. It is the same every day, but I try to do my duty, and you will find this Valley in good condition and everything properly cared for."

"I am sure of that, Mr. Split," answered the Queen.

Dot and Tot had been so astonished at all this that they had stood perfectly still, and noticing this Mr. Split came toward them with his key raised and said, briskly:

"Where are your key holes my dears? You must have run down."

"Oh, no!" cried Dot, shrinking back; "We're—we're alive!"

"Oh, that is different," returned the man, with a laugh. "I'm glad you are not to be wound up, for I am so busy now that there ought to be three or four of me instead of two."

"You're funny," remarked Tot, who had been staring at Mr. Split.

"Thank you, sir," replied the man, bowing politely.

"What are you made of?" asked the boy, curiously.

"Wood, of course," answered the man. "Wood is the strongest and best material for that purpose. My feet are beech, my arms and legs are limbs of ash, my body is pine and my heart is oak. As for my head, it is mostly chestnut, although my hair is curly maple, my eyes mahogany and my teeth hickory."

"Oh!" said Tot.

"You may notice my voice is very strong," continued the man; "it is made of birch bark."

"Oh!" said Tot.

"And my hands are made of the rubber tree so I can wiggle my fingers easily and turn the keys to wind the machinery."

"Oh!" said Tot.

"If you had not told us this," remarked Dot, shyly, "we should have thought you were made entirely of witch hazel."

The Queen laughed at this, and said: "Now, Mr. Split, if you will kindly gather some fruit and nuts from the forest for our supper we will ride on the merry-go-round until you return."

The man bowed and at once ran into the forest on his errand, while Dot and Tot followed the Queen toward the merry-go-round.

hen they came to the railway track they were careful not to get run into by the rushing tin train. They waited until the cars had passed the spot where they stood and then quickly ran across the track before the engine came around again.

The merry-go-round was turning smoothly, and the saddled animals galloped along in an inviting way, while the barrel-organ played some very loud and frisky circus tunes.

"It's almost like a side show!" cried Dot enthusiastically, as she seated herself upon a camel. Tot bestrode a dapple-gray horse, and the Queen sat upon a lion and took hold of its mane to steady herself.

They whirled around in a very pleasant and exhilarating manner for some time, and Dot was laughing and enjoying herself immensely when she happened to notice a number of big teardrops rolling down the cheeks of the tiger that was galloping just in front of her.

"I—I think it's—it's—real mean of you," whimpered the tiger with sobs in his voice, "for you to ride on that humpbacked animal all the time, and—and neglect a roy—royal Bengal tiger!"

"Oh, I shall be glad to make a change," she cried, and leaping off the camel's back she sprang upon the tiger, who thereupon dried his tears and smiled in a most delightful manner.

"We seldom have visitors in this Valley," he said, after he had wiped his eyes with a handkerchief that was sticking in his bridle, "so most of the time there is no one to ride us. I don't see the good of a merry-go-round if it isn't used."

The Queen now noticed some of the other animals looking discontented, so she and Tot changed seats also, and by the time Mr. Split came to call them to supper they had ridden all the animals in turn, and the keeper noticed that his merry-go-round was bathed in one whirling smile of gladness and content.

"It is good for my animals to have visitors," he said, happily, "it cheers them up."

Mr. Split had spread a white cloth upon the grass close to one edge of the forest, and Dot and Tot and the Queen sat around this and ate of the delicious fruit the queer man had gathered. There were melons, grapes, bananas, oranges, plums, strawberries, and pears and all were ripe and exquisitely flavored.

By the time they finished their meal it had become twilight, and the Queen declared it would soon be dark.

"I wonder where we can sleep," said Tot. But Dot looked around and saw that Mr. Split was fastening three big hammocks between the trees at the edge of the forest. These hammocks were lined with soft, silken cushions and looked very pleasant and cozy to the sleepy children.

The Queen and Dot and Tot each climbed into one of the hammocks and were covered over with silk-quilted comfortables, after which Mr. Split turned a key at the end of each hammock and set them moving gently to and fro like the rocking of a cradle.

Before she went to sleep Dot looked over the edge of her hammock and saw that the merry-go-round and the tin train were now motionless, while all the animals seemed to have run down and were standing quite still waiting for morning, when Mr. Split would come and wind them up again.

* * *

The little girl was awakened next morning by a sharp clicking sound near by, and opening her eyes she saw a tin monkey running up and down a string fastened to a branch of the tree.

"Dear me!" she said, looking at him intently; "are you wound up so early in the morning?"

"Yes, indeed," replied the monkey, still busily climbing his string; "Mr. Split was here some time ago. I suppose nearly everyone in the Valley must be going by this time."

"I didn't know it was so late," said Dot, slipping from her hammock to the ground and feeling rather ashamed of her laziness.

Tot was already up and sitting near the railway track watching the tin train go round. The Queen now joined Dot and they called Tot to breakfast, for Mr. Split had loaded the cloth with a variety of cool, fresh fruit and berries.

"He gathered those before he unhooked himself," said the Queen, "for then he had two arms to carry them. But when it came to winding up the animals he had to separate in order that he might use each hand in a different place, and so get around quicker."

"Mr. Split's name suits him very well," said Dot, who was enjoying the fruit.

"Yes, it would be hard to call him anything else," replied the Queen.

"I suppose your own name fits you in the same way," ventured the girl.

"Certainly it does," answered the Queen.

Dot's heart now began to beat rapidly, for she thought she would at last discover what the Queen's name was. Tot also looked interested, and forgot his slice of melon as he listened.

"You haven't told us yet what it is," said the girl.

The little Queen laughed merrily. "Isn't it funny," she exclaimed, "that I always forget to tell you? There is no reason in the world why you should not know my name."

"Then," said Tot, sharply, "tell it!"

"Well," she said, "it's—"

Just then they heard a great crash, a whirling of wheels and the scream of a whistle. Springing to their feet they saw the tin train lying upside down near the track, with its wheels whirling around like the wind, and near by was a wooden goat and cart, completely wrecked and splintered into many pieces.

They all ran down to the place, and the brave little Queen picked up the tin train and set it upon its track. It started to run again in its usual rushing way, but Dot noticed that the cow-catcher was badly bent and that some of the paint had been knocked off.

"There has been a collision," said her Majesty, calmly. "I was afraid that goat-cart would get into trouble if it ran so near to the engine. But it is wrecked now, beyond repair, so there is nothing more to worry about."

As she spoke the Police Patrol and the Fire Engine both dashed up to the spot, and one of the officers asked: "What's the trouble?"

"You are too late," said the Queen; "the trouble is all over."

"Then we may as well go back," said the officer, grumpily. "The trouble usually is over when we get anywhere; that's why we take our time about coming."

"Well," said the Queen, when the Patrol and the Fire Engine had gone back to their stables, "it is time for us to go."

They looked around for Mr. Split, but not seeing him they walked across the opening to the path that led through the forest to the river. They each squeaked the Alligator when they came to him, and left him feeling joyful and contented.

The boat was lying where they had left it, and they at once stepped in and seated themselves.

"I'm sorry not to say good-bye to Mr. Split," said Dot, as the boat glided out into the river.

"He is so busy he won't mind it," answered the Queen. "I suppose he was in the forest winding up the animals there when we came away. I do not think there is another man in the whole world that does so much work as Mr. Split, and he seems to enjoy it, too."

The boat was rushing swiftly through the water, now, and soon the forest of trees was passed and our voyagers entered a deep archway that led to the Seventh and last Valley of Merryland.

t was morning, and the sun shone as brightly as it had every day since they came to Merryland; yet the stillness of the Seventh Valley was so intense that the children became sober the moment they entered it, and even the smile upon the little Queen's wax face looked strained and out of place.

"The people here are either asleep, like the dolls, or run down, like the animals," said Dot, sinking her voice to a whisper.

"There are no people," replied the Queen.

"Then what is the Valley for?" asked the girl.

"Wait a moment and you will see," was the answer.

The boat now drew near the shore, but the banks of the river were so high and steep that they could see nothing above them, and Dot thought at first they would be unable to land.

Presently, however, they reached a small place where the bank sloped gently down to the water, and here the Queen stopped the boat and asked the children to step out.

"Now follow me," said Her Majesty, when they had all landed. So they walked up the sloping bank and found themselves upon a big, circular plain as flat as a platter, which was thickly covered with thousands and thousands of pins. There were no trees at all, but lying scattered upon the ground were heaps and stacks of the most curious things.

Nearest to Dot was a great pyramid of thimbles, of all sizes and made of many different materials. Further on were piles of buttons, of all shapes and colors imaginable, and there were also vast collections of hairpins, rings, and many sorts of jewelry.

Tot noticed at his side a mammoth heap of lead pencils, some short and stubby and worn, and others long and almost new.

"What does it all mean?" asked Dot, wonderingly, after she had gazed about her.

"It is the Valley of Lost Things," answered the Queen.

"Oh!" said Dot.

"Oh!" echoed Tot.

And again they began looking with wide-open eyes.

"It is rather dangerous to walk on the pins," said the Queen; "so we must choose some overshoes from this pile and put them on our feet. There are so many pins lost that they cover the entire Valley, and sometimes the points turn up and are liable to stick into your feet."

The pile of overshoes was quite near them, so they hunted through it until they found the right sizes. Of course they could not get mates, but that did not matter so much, if the soles were but thick enough to keep the pins from sticking through.

When at last their feet were clad in lost overshoes they started to walk through the Valley, and Tot was surprised to see so many heaps of caps and coats that had been worn by boys.

"Where do they all come from?" he asked.

"Well," replied the Queen, "it seems boys in the big outside world seldom hang up their caps and coats; so they are easily lost. Perhaps if they knew they would get to this Valley, and could never be found again, boys would be more careful."

"Would they?" asked Tot.

"I suppose so. Here is a big pile of pennies. I expect most of those were lost by children, too."

"Let's take some!" cried Tot.

"No, indeed," said Dot, "if we took them they wouldn't be lost any more."

"Won't they ever be found?" asked the boy.

"I think not," replied the Queen. "No one has ever been here but you, and probably no stranger will ever come to this Valley again."

"It's all right for us to come," declared Tot.

"Why?" enquired the girl.

'"Cause we're lost, too!"

"So we are, Tot," said Dot, rather sadly; "but lost people are usually found again, for I don't see any others here."

They walked a little farther on and saw a mass of broken toys lying scattered about. There were dollies, too, for suddenly Tot made a pounce and grabbed up a sorry looking doll with one arm broken, one eye out and a scratched and battered face.

"I've found her!" he cried, joyfully; "I've found Jane! An' I'm going to keep her, too."

"Is it really your doll?" asked the Queen, with some curiosity.

"Course it is," replied Tot; "I lost her."

"Then I do not see why you should not keep her with you; for, being found, she doesn't belong here any more."

"Course not," said the boy, hugging the broken doll in his arms.

"There are a good many gloves and handkerchiefs lost," remarked Dot, looking at the heaps lying around.

"Yes," replied the Queen; "and over at the further side of the Valley are many piles of pocket-books, each pile as big as a haystack. People are so careless with pocketbooks."

"Have they money in them?" asked the girl.

"Some have a great deal of money inside them, and some only a few pennies. Others are stuffed with cards and samples and papers," said the Queen. "I would take you to look at them, but we should have to climb over a hill of lost needles, and I fear our overshoes would not protect us from their sharp points."

"It's always hard to get at money," said Tot, with a sigh.

Among other things lying near her Dot now noticed a hurdy-gurdy, such as she had seen musicians carrying around the streets. There was no monkey with it, and it looked quite old and battered.

"I wonder how long it has been here, she remarked, thoughtfully.

"Play it, and see," suggested the Queen.

So Dot set the hurdy-gurdy up straight and turned the crank, when it began playing in a jerky and wheezy manner a tune called "Silver Threads Among the Gold."

"My! But that's an old tune," said Dot.

"It's rather pretty," declared the Queen, who had never heard the air before. "Play another."

This time the tune was "Little Annie Rooney," and then followed "Captain Jinks" and "Two Little Girls in Blue."

"I guess this hurdy-gurdy was lost before I was born," sighed Dot. "It's certainly very old."

ell, shall we return to the boat?" asked the Queen, when they had looked at the lost things a while longer.

"Yes," they answered willingly, for the Valley was a rather sad sight.