“Good,” cried Dorothy, clapping her hands. “I know what you mean. You must step on stones, if you walk on the earth you’re poisoned. I’ve played that game very often.”
Dorothy took Rosy in her arms and started to walk home.
“You shall be my best doll,” whispered Dorothy, “and I’ll make you a lovely silk dress.” She crossed and recrossed stones and rocks, being careful not to touch the ground. She was getting along nicely when all at once she tripped and her feet touched the earth. In a second Rosy was on the ground running away from her as fast as she could.
“Come back, come back,” shouted Dorothy; but Rosy only ran the faster.
Dorothy started after the lovely little doll, but all at once she was stopped by a great toy policeman.
“What is the matter?” asked he of the blue coat and brass buttons.
“I want to catch that doll. O, please let me get her,” said Dorothy.
“Does she belong to you?” shouted the policeman in a gruff voice.
“N-no, not exactly; that is,”—said Dorothy, beginning to explain.
But the policeman looked very angry and said, “I arrest you for trying to take something that does not belong to you.”