Nor did they drink the tea when it was poured for them. Marcella drank it instead.
Perhaps this was just as well, for, most of the dolls were moist inside from the "tea" of the day before.
Marcella did not always drink all of the tea, often she poured a little down their mouths.
Sugar and water, if taken in small quantities, would not give the dolls colic, Marcella would tell them, but she did not know that it made their cotton, or sawdust insides, quite sticky.
Quite often, too, Marcella forgot to wash their faces after a "tea," and Fido would do it for them when he came into the nursery and found the dolls with sweets upon their faces.
Really, Fido was quite a help in this way, but he often missed the corners of their eyes and the backs of their necks where the "tea" would run and get sticky. But he did his best and saved his little Mistress a lot of work.
No, Raggedy Andy did not speak; he merely thought a great deal.
One can, you know, when one has been a rag doll as long as Raggedy Andy had. Years and years and years and years!
Even Raggedy Ann, with all her wisdom, did not really know how long Raggedy Andy and she had been rag dolls.
If Raggedy Ann had a pencil in her rag hand and Marcella guided it for her, Raggedy Ann could count up to ten—sometimes. But why should one worry one's rag head about one's age when all one's life has been one happy experience after another, with each day filled with love and sunshine?