“Yes; because he was a horrid bully, wasn’t he?” said the little girl. “And his men, too, were as bad as he. I always used to like toy-soldiers. I never shall again.”
“I should not like you to judge of all soldiers by the wooden ones I have told you of,” said the Marionette. “We have had in the shop sets of wooden and tin soldiers of the highest character; gallant fellows, beloved and esteemed by all. I will tell you of them to-morrow if you like.”
The little girl considered a moment.
“I think,” she said at length, “I would rather hear something quite different for a change. If you do not mind,” she added politely.
“Not in the least,” replied the little lady. “I shall think of a story that shall have nothing to do with soldiers, good, bad, or indifferent.”
So on the morrow when they met again the Marionette said:
“I have thought of quite a different sort of story to the one I told you yesterday.”
“Thank you,” said her little friend. “Please begin.”
“Yes,” she said as the little Marionette remained silent. “Yes—yes—do begin!”
“Patience, patience! I am just considering for a moment if I have the story correct in every respect. It is now some time since it happened, and one’s memory is apt to play one tricks when one is telling stories of other people. But I think I remember it correctly. So I will begin without further delay the history of: