There were old dolls, little and big; there were old toys of all sorts; there were pretty little pictures, and quantities of flowers made of bright paper. A great many of the things Scrubby had thrown aside so long ago they would be new to her now; and some of them mamma had put away very carefully, so that the little girl should not altogether spoil them.
Lucy had found them all and had brought them down-stairs; and now she had them in a heap on the floor, trying to keep them in order, for they were all very lively at being brought out again.
"Well, Luce, you have done it!" Jack said.
"Of course, I have," answered Lucy. "Do keep that horse away, Jack, and not let him run over these babies."
"Oh dear!" squawked the chicken, and fluttered under the table, for these new-comers were all strangers to him.
Spot tried not to bark his astonishment and delight; Minx began to claw all the old dolls and toys about; the French lady walked away into a corner and waited to be introduced, while Lyd and Peg shook hands with their old cronies until it seemed as though they never would stop.
The tree had hopped into the room and stood there, not knowing what to do with himself. Lucy did not see him at first, being so busy with the rest; but as soon as she did see him, she gave him such a hug as nearly pulled him over.
"Oh, you dear old Norway! Did you come? You're so good, and I'm so glad! Come up to the fire and get warm. Here, Jack, and Lyd, and Française, help me get this big foot-stool into the corner. It's getting awful late."
Lucy flew about in a ragged kind of way until she had all the rest flying about too, doing an amount of work nobody would have believed possible. They were all glad enough to do the work, but they needed just such a driving, thoughtful old body as Lucy to show them what to do and keep them at it.
