Oh, how swiftly his feet pattered down the road, and, oh, how merrily the pennies jingled in his pocket! "Ten of us again! Ten of us again!" This is what they seemed to say now, and the little boy laughed to hear them as he ran past the ragman with his bag, past the pieman with his tarts, straight to the store where the little red hatchet still lay in the window.
"If you please, I want a little red hatchet," he said; and he counted his pennies out on the counter, ten of them in a row.
"Just as many pennies as you have fingers on your hands, or toes on your feet," said the man, who had come in to the store again; and he wrapped the little red hatchet in a piece of brown paper and gave it to the child.
It was a good little hatchet, and the little boy pounded nails and split boards and cut his mother's kindling with it; but whether he ever built a house or cut down a tree I cannot tell you, for I do not know myself.
[THE LOST DOLL]
T
There was once upon a time a little girl who had a china doll named Jennie Bluebell. Jennie Bluebell had black hair, and blue eyes, and rosy cheeks, and a smiling mouth; and on her feet were painted gilt slippers that shone like gold.