And so all the toys had to be quiet and go back to their places. They could not make believe be alive until night should come again.
One by one the girl clerks took their places behind the toy counters near the shelves on which the different playthings were stored. One girl picked up the Calico Clown.
“Well, I do declare!” exclaimed this girl. “Look at my fancy Clown, will you, Mabel?”
“What’s the matter with him, Sallie?” asked the clerk whose name was Mabel.
“Why, his red and yellow pants are scorched,” answered Sallie. “I wonder what happened to him. Some customer who was smoking must have dropped a match or some hot cigar ashes on him. I must tell the manager about this. I can’t sell a damaged toy like that.”
“No, you can’t,” agreed Mabel, after she had looked at the poor Calico Clown.
“Oh, but I know what we can do!” the girl clerk suddenly exclaimed. “What?” asked Sallie.
And “what?” wondered the Clown.
“We can make him a new pair of trousers,” was the answer. “Up in my locker I have some pieces of silk I had left over when I dressed my little sister’s doll for Christmas. I’ll get my needle and thread and the pieces of silk, and this noon, at lunch hour, we’ll make a new suit for the Clown. Then he won’t be damaged, and you can sell him.”
“Oh, that will be fine!” cried the other girl, and the Clown, hearing this, felt much better.