“That beautiful blue one. No, the pink one. O no, wait a moment, that white one, I think. O, Mr. Gardener, please let me look a moment. They are all so sweet!” She finally decided on the blue—a beauty with lace and forget-me-nots around the top.
The pink one had a wreath of wild roses, and it was hard to give that up; but the blue matched her doll’s new dress, and so that decided it. Then the gardener told her that after awhile she could help him pick the various garments for the army of dolls that had just arrived, but that now she’d better go into the hospital and see what they were doing there. And so he led her into the house.
Here Janie found the poor crippled dolls being put in fine shape by little doll nurses, wearing soft gray dresses with white aprons and caps. Legs and arms were being replaced; the blind were made to see with blue eyes and brown; bald heads were covered, and such a wealth of hair did those dolls have—some curly, some braided and tied with a ribbon, and some hanging straight, for the dolls’ mammas to braid or curl, as they chose. When their bodies had finally reached perfection, they went into a bath-room for a sorely-needed bath, and Janie went to help the gardener.
Together they wandered about, plucking an outfit for each doll. It was great fun to match the dresses in slippers and stockings, and then to complete the costumes with the proper hats. When they carried the frocks in, what a hubbub arose! Each doll wanted every dress.
The little Queen quieted them and gave a suit to each one, which they soon put on, and they looked so sweet, clean and pretty that their own mammas would hardly know them. The Queen called for the bill, paid it, and departed with her family, looking like the “Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe.”
They made a very pretty picture as they walked out, appearing like a lot of gorgeous butterflies. As before, the gate swung open at a peal from the silver bugle; all climbed into the ambulance once more, and away they went with Janie following.
When they reached home they found the yard full of little girls weeping for their lost dolls. But as each dollie jumped down and ran to its own mamma, what a chattering and babbling filled the air!
“Who mended you?” “What lovely hair!” “Where did you get those clothes?” cried the little girls.
The strange tale which Janie told them of all she had seen, and especially of the clothes growing on trees, seemed too wonderful to be believed, and they envied her such delightful experiences.