A Little Maid in Toyland

by Adah Louise Sutton

She scarcely liked to ask John if he would undertake such a particular job, he had done so much already. “Pernickety” he was sure to call it. So, after much mature deliberation, she concluded to drop the matter for the present, at least.

“What is the use of screening up the back and sides when the front is all open anyway?” Bob had exclaimed when Sally finally broached the subject to him.

“Oh, but we are imagining the front is just like that in any other house!” retorted Sally with some spirit.

“Well, then imagine that the flies can’t come in,” responded Bob. And that settled it.

Odd as it may seem, the attic was the very first room that Sally started to put in order. And a most delicious little place it was, with its raftered ceiling and neatly plastered walls. With the vision of their own immaculate attic in her mind’s eye, the child proceeded to neatly range around the walls several doll’s trunks, a tiny spinning wheel and two or three odd wooden chairs; also one of the many cradles that had been presented as offerings at the shrine of the doll’s house. A spinning wheel and a cradle comprised, for the most part, what Sally denominated a “proper” attic.

From the rafters the child hung tiny bunches of good-smelling herbs, for which cook had been levied upon. To be sure, no such thing existed in city attics as a rule, but they did down at the farm. Sally suddenly recollected that they also had spiders and cobwebs in the attic at the farm. The very thought of a spider made her shiver, but she wondered if it would not be well to affect a few cobwebs, and privately concluded to request Miss Palmer, her beloved governess, to paint in a few with water-colors,—a scheme into which Miss Palmer heartily entered, adding on her own responsibility a fat, yellow spider, whose appearance was so realistic that Sally shrieked when she first discovered it. Bob promptly suggested that a few rats should be added. But rats, Miss Palmer declared, were beyond her powers of creation. They would require to be real, solid little beasts, and not simply painted flat on the wall. To this Bob readily assented, gravely adding that if they were only painted on the wall, of course they never could come down at night to bite the dolls. Bob concluded his remarks by making a grimace so fearfully suggestive of a prowling rat that Sally fled in anguish, and Miss Palmer, while she could not refrain from smiling, felt forced to request that he would cease from tormenting his sister.

From the attic to the kitchen is quite a long jump, at least it would have been without the staircase. But the kitchen was the next on the program, and thither were the forces of the furnishing party now directed. Never had a new kitchen been so liberally supplied with stoves, kettles, pans and pots, especially stoves. It really seemed as if everyone who had not sent a cradle had sent a stove. Every kind except an electric one, as Sally sadly reflected. But Miss Palmer consoled her by saying that she doubted very much if electric stoves came in so small a size. So Sally was presently very well content to see a most fascinating little cast-iron affair set up, on top of which was ranged an array of pots and kettles sufficient to prepare a dinner for the most particular of dolls, albeit of diminutive size.

Opposite the stove stood a neat dresser, filled with a most wonderful array of china and glass. To be sure, Sally had reserved the very best for the china closet in the dining-room, but the display in the kitchen was a goodly one. So also was the wooden and tinware that hung upon hooks and displayed itself on shelves all around the walls. But the article dearest to Sally’s heart, and over which the child lingered longest in a perfect passion of delight was a miniature refrigerator, an almost exact reproduction of the big one downstairs. Lined with opal glass, its well-filled shelves were weighted down with all sorts of delectable edibles that dolls are presumed to delight in. Its upper compartment was filled with chunks of ground glass to represent ice. Sally lingered long in rapture over this delightful bit of furniture, and having at last located it entirely to her satisfaction, placed over against it a cute little three-cornered closet containing a collection of brooms and mops, and a wee carpet sweeper, whose tiny, revolving brushes really picked up any small bits of fluff and lint that happened to be about.

Surely never was a kitchen so perfectly and generously supplied with all things needful, from the shining yellow oil-cloth on the floor to the beautiful blue table and chairs, the gift of nurse, who declared them to be exactly like those used in the “auld counthry.” The whole shining region was presided over by a stiff, colored cook in turban and apron, who, alas! could never sit down on the beautiful blue chairs, as she belonged to the variety of dolls that does not bend in the middle.