Leipzig is a city of books. Everyone seems to be reading. They read even as they stroll along the streets.
Mr. Toymaker immediately set out to find his friend, Mr. Krauss, the bookseller. But he could not find his friend.
The first day at the market place was very dismal. Nobody paid any attention to Mr. Toymaker's wares. There were too many beautiful toys to be seen.
"It is the same here as it was in Nuremberg," said Mrs. Toymaker.
Her sweet face was sad. "Oh, what are we to do?" the poor lady was thinking.
But Mitzi knew what to do. Tomorrow she and Fritz intended to slip away from their booth in the market place. Today their father needed them there to help.
| LEIPZIG |
Mr. Toymaker had displayed his prettiest toys: brightly colored soldiers, flaxen-haired dolls, and animals with big, staring-eyes. Yet even children did not stop. At a shop across the square were dolls that talked and walked, engines that sped along tracks, airplanes that flew, and doll houses with electric lights in them and elevators and running water. Is it any wonder that Mr. Toymaker's carved toys did not attract people?
"Run back to the wagon and make some coffee," said Mrs. Toymaker to Mitz and Fritz. "Father and I will stay here a little longer. When we get home we shall have supper."