“Oh, here’s another toy,” she said, squinting at Maida, for she was very near-sighted. “I didn’t notice this one at first. Ugly little thing, isn’t it?”
Maida was about to protest, but a whisper from Santa Claus frightened her to silence.
“Still for your life!” he said. “If she learns you are a mortal, you will be put to death.”
So Maida stood stock still, and never even winked an eye. A pretty little boy, Aurora’s page, who carried her sceptre, stared at Maida critically. “I think it’s rather pretty,” he said.
“Pretty?” said Aurora, “pooh, pooh! Why, it’s very badly made. The arms are much too long—the body is too slender,” and she gave Maida a poke in the ribs which made the poor child gasp for breath. “The color is bad and the face is—waxy. I could do better work than that. I’ll have them break it in pieces.” Maida began to tremble. The little page, however, was persistent.
“If you’re going to have it broken up,” he said, “why not give it to me?”
“Certainly,” said Aurora; and before Maida realized what had happened, she was seized, folded double, packed away in a box, and was being carted off somewhere, not daring to cry out for fear they would discover she was a mortal, and put her to death.
Maida was Carted away in a Box