The Woolly Dog was glad to hear Mrs. Clark say this, for he liked being in the show window. There was more to be seen from the window—he could watch the children playing in the street and hear their laughter.
Of course he liked being on the shelf with the other toys, but he felt, deep down inside him, that it would be best for him to be sold so Mrs. Clark could get the money for her rent.
“Into the window you go, my friend!” said the storekeeper lady, as she patted the Woolly Dog to get out of his coat any dust that might make him look dingy. “Into the window you go, and may someone buy you!”
Not long after the Dog had been placed in the window with the needles, pins and spools of thread, a boy and a girl pressed their little noses up against the glass, making them look quite flat.
“Oh, see the new dog in the window!” cried the girl.
“’Tisn’t a new dog. I’ve seen him before,” said the boy.
“Well, he looks new to me,” went on the girl. “I wonder how much he costs.”
“I guess more’n a dollar, Lizzie.”
“Oh, he couldn’t!” gasped the little girl. “No toy could cost that much—not ever, Sammie!”
“Pooh! You just ought to see some of the toys in the stores on Main Street!” replied Sammie. “Why, I’ve seen price tickets on ’em marked—ten dollars!”