| MR. SAM, |
| Doll’s Doctor and Toymender to Her Majesty, |
| the Queen, and all other Potentates. |
“Splendid!” shouted Dot, who was serving up the glue as if it had been a kettle of soup, and who looked herself very like an overtoasted cook.
Sam took the glue, and began to bustle about.
“Now, Dot, get me all the broken toys, and we’ll see what we can do. And here’s a second splendid idea. Do you see that box? Into that we shall put all the toys that are quite spoiled and cannot possibly be mended. It is to be called the Hospital for Incurables. I’ve got a placard for that. At least it’s not written yet, but here’s the paper, and perhaps you would write it, Dot, for I am tired of writing and I want to begin the mending.”
“For the future,” he presently resumed, “when I want a doll to scalp or behead, I shall apply to the Hospital for Incurables, and the same with any other toy that I want to destroy. And you will see, my dear Dot, that I shall be quite a blessing to the nursery; for I shall attend the dolls gratis, and keep all the furniture in repair.”
Sam really kept his word. He had a natural turn for mechanical work, and, backed by Dot’s mechanical genius, he prolonged the days of the broken toys by skillful mending, and so acquired an interest in them which was still more favorable to their preservation. When his birthday came round, which was some months after these events, Dot (assisted by Mamma and Aunt Penelope), had prepared for him a surprise that was more than equal to any of his own “splendid ideas.” The whole force of the toy cupboard was assembled on the nursery table, to present Sam with a fine box of joiner’s tools as a reward for his services, Papa kindly acting as spokesman on the occasion.
And certain gaps in the china tea-set, some scars on the dolls’ face, and a good many new legs, both amongst the furniture and the animals, are now the only remaining traces of Sam’s earthquake.
THREE CHRISTMAS-TREES.
This is a story of Three Christmas-Trees. The first was a real one, but the child we are to speak of did not see it. He saw the other two, but they were not real; they only existed in his fancy. The plot of the story is very simple; and, as it has been described so early, it is easy for those who think it stupid to lay the book down in good time.
Probably every child who reads this has seen one Christmas-tree or more; but in the small town of a distant colony with which we have to do, this could not at one time have been said. Christmas-trees were then by no means so universal, even in England, as they now are, and in this little colonial town, they were unknown. Unknown that is, till the Governor’s wife gave her great children’s party. At which point we will begin the story.