Tommy did not know that this was Mr. Peter Poodle’s famous toy shop. He did not even know the toys were for sale. He had never been in a big city and knew nothing about stores. He thought this was merely somebody’s fine house, and when he lifted his eyes from the toys and saw a big card that hung beneath one of the lamps, he was more than ever filled with wonder.
“BOY WANTED!”
Those were the words on the card. Tommy spelled the letters twice to make sure; “I suppose the people inside must be lonely,” he thought “I will go in and visit them, and perhaps they will tell me how to find the King.”
Mr. Poodle, a kindly little man with gray hair and bright twinkling eyes, answered the rap at the door.
“Please sir,” said Tommy, “do you live here and are you lonely? Because, if you are, I can come in and play with you; but by and by, I must go and find the King. Please, can you tell me where the King lives? Because the kind lady, who took care of me when I was sick, is very poor. Did you know that once I was very sick? When I was sick the kind lady told me all about the Fairy King. I am well now, and I am going to find the Fairy King and get some gold and jewels for the kind lady. Would you like me to come in and play with you a little while? I am too tired to play very much, because I have been walking all day. {5} And tonight, when I came through a dark street, a bad, rough man chased me, and I ran so fast that it made me more tired. Don’t you think I am a fast runner to get away from the man? Please, shall we play games now? Perhaps you don’t want to play with a little boy that has such raggedy clothes. Would you rather have a little boy that has fine clothes and wears shoes and stockings? I am sorry you are lonesome. I think you are a nice man and I like you; but perhaps you don’t want such a raggedy boy.”
The twinkling laughter had left the little man’s eyes and the corners of his mouth twitched when he tried to speak. Then he quickly stooped and held out both arms. “I do want a raggedy boy” were the words that came from his trembling lips, and the next second, Tommy’s curly head was nestling on the little man’s shoulder.
“What game shall we play now?” asked Mr. Poodle.
“I don’t know,” said Tommy. “Sometimes, when I was sick and the kind lady gave me bread and milk, she said we were playing dinner party. That is the only game I know how to play. Please, sir, shall we play dinner party?”
The twinkle came back again into Mr. Poodle’s eyes. “Yes, my boy, we will play dinner party,” he said. “I think dinner party is a fine game.”
Mr. Poodle now spread the cloth on the table. “O me, O my,” said he; “this cloth has a hole right in the corner! O, well, that is soon mended.” Then, what did he do but tear right off the whole corner. “There!” said he; “now we have a cloth without any hole.”