Another boy named Arnold owned a Bold Tin Soldier, and Mirabell, his sister, had a Lamb on Wheels. Then there was Madeline with a Candy Rabbit, Archie with a Stuffed Elephant, Herbert who had a Monkey on a Stick, and Sidney with a Calico Clown.
But of all the toys Donald’s Woolly Dog was the newest and freshest. Once when the children went into the house to get some bread and jam, leaving the toys alone, they talked among themselves, and the Sawdust Doll and the Tin Soldier told of some adventures they had gone through—adventures, they said, which had been made into books.
“Do you think I’ll ever have a book made about me?” asked the Woolly Dog.
“Maybe, some day,” answered the Stuffed Elephant. “But first you must have lots of adventures.”
“Do you think they’ll put me in a book even if I have a tickling feeling inside?” barked the Dog.
“Oh, that doesn’t matter,” replied the Elephant. “It’s a mere trifle.”
“You wouldn’t call it a trifle if you had it,” said the Dog.
Then the children came back and the toys had to keep quiet. For many days Donald played with his Woolly Dog. For many days Mrs. Cressey looked for her lost diamond ring without finding it.
Each night the Woolly Dog was put in the playroom with the other toys, but one night Donald forgot his Dog and left him in the front hall. There Susan the maid found him.
“I declare!” exclaimed Susan, “Donald has forgotten his birthday toy that his Uncle Teddy gave him. I’ll put him in the hall closet with the umbrellas,” and she did, meaning to tell Donald in the morning.