“Does he? Say, I never saw a boy burst so many buttons off his clothes! It’s a wonder to me he doesn’t fly apart. I remember——”
But suddenly the Chinese Man stopped talking and the Woolly Dog, looking around to learn the reason, saw Mrs. Cressey coming into the room, followed by Donald.
“Now I’ll sew up your Woolly Dog,” said the little boy’s mother.
That was the reason the Chinese Man could no longer talk, nor could the Woolly Dog. There were human beings present.
But the Dog was glad he had made a new friend in the house, and he thought that after dark, when everyone was asleep, he could come and visit the Chinese Man and hear more stories. Perhaps there were other toys with whom he might play when the house was quiet.
“Now to mend your birthday Dog,” said Donald’s mother.
She threaded a needle, taking one from the china case, lifting off the head of the Chinese Man to do so.
“Ah, that’s what he meant by his head coming off!” thought the Woolly Dog.
Mrs. Cressey first carefully poked back inside the Woolly Dog the cotton stuffing that Jane had pulled out when searching for the Dog’s “bark.” Then Donald’s mother, taking very fine stitches so they would not show, mended the gash in the Dog’s stomach.
While she was doing this she tickled the Woolly Dog quite a bit. He wanted to squirm and wiggle and even bark, but he dared do none of these things, for both Donald and his mother were looking at him.