All too soon came the omnibuses to carry them home. They were to have a pleasant open-air ride this time, as the roofs had mysteriously disappeared. With many good-bys they departed, leaving the guests with much to talk about. This had been another beautiful time, and it seemed a fitting end to the month’s jubilee; but Janie couldn’t be quite happy, when she remembered it was the final act in this strange play.
“Dear little Queen,” she pleaded, “couldn’t you let it last just a little longer? We can’t bear to give up these good times so soon.”
“My precious child, this must be the end for the present—I always keep my word, and the month will be up in the morning; but,” she added, as the tears sprang to all of those bright eyes, “if you take good care of your dolls and try to be helpful to your mammas, I will let it happen again some day, and you may then have even a better time; so do not grieve. Remember, dear little ones, I love you with all my heart, and will plan something even more beautiful than this has been.”
And now she bade the driver stop at the Doll Farm, where was waiting the same wee coach which had so startled them at the beginning of this remarkable month. A little trunk strapped on the back said plainer than words that these times were truly at an end. Giving each a loving good-by kiss, and begging them not to be unhappy, the Queen jumped into the gay little coach and was whirled away. The children were driven to their separate homes, each hugging her doll and loath to give it up to its former existence. Janie tried to brighten up, as she bade them all good-by, and said: “It will happen again. The Queen said it would, and it will; so we ought to be extra good. We have had a delightful time and must be thankful for it, and just think what we have to look forward to!”
That night she tucked in her dollie as usual, and, after one last fond kiss and a few extra caresses, was soon in the beautiful land of dreams, where we will leave her till the “next time,” which, as the Queen always tells the truth, must surely come some day. Perhaps it will be in the winter, when they can have merry sleigh rides and snow-ball battles. And perhaps, as we listen to the chimes of the Christmas bells, if we peep through a window of the doll house, we shall see a tiny Christmas tree and “stockings hung by the chimney with care,” and even hear dear old Santa Claus’ sleigh-bells, the reindeer pawing on the snowy roof, and his great voice crying, “Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
That would indeed be a perfect time, so we will not be sad at bidding the dolls good-by, but, as the curtain falls on this act, sing with dear old Dinah, “Der’s a good time comin’ by and by.”
