n, I ask our charming friend
the Doll to oblige us with the account of her experiences in life."

[Illustration]

CHAPTER VI.

THE DOLL AND ALL HER MISTRESSES.

"Oh," said the Doll, "can you not excuse me? My poor little story is so
very dull and flat after all we have heard, and, indeed, I am afraid I
have not strength or vivacity enough to carry it through to the end!"

"No, indeed," replied the Ball, "we are not going to let you off. We are
all of us taking our turns, and you must bear your share like the rest."

"I am sure," said the Kite, in a pacifying manner, "our fair friend will
be only too happy to do her part in this pleasant task; she merely feels
an amiable modesty, and undervalues her own charming powers."

"You flatter me too much," replied the Doll, "in all respects but one.
But you are right in believing I am anxious to oblige every one, for
that is the case really. And so now I will do my best, only prefacing my
humble story by saying that I really know nothing of my origin, or where
I was made. My first conscious remembrance was that of lying on a
beautiful carved table in the midst of a quantity of silk and lace. Two
or three gay girls were sitting round the table and gossiping merrily,
while their busy fingers flew at their pretty work. They were dressing
myself and one or two of my sisters for their Christmas tree.

"'That is a piece of the first silk dress I ever had,' said
bright-haired Madeline, the eldest of them; 'I remember how proud I was
of it, and how I enjoyed its rustle. It was short, you know, Laura, for
I was a little girl then.'

"'You don't care so much about silk dresses now, Maddy,' replied Laura;
'I think a new riding habit is your present ambition, isn't it?'

"'This piece will make the doll a very grand bodice,' said Edith; 'the
pale blue suits her complexion, don't you think so, Maddy? That is a
piece of my last year's sash.'

"And so they chatted and worked, till I was attired in a very tasteful
and fashionable manner. For though, alas! there are now no remains of my
former charms, I was reckoned a great beauty in my day, and was indeed
quite one of the belles of the season. I had real hair, very soft and
flaxen, and what is more, real eyelashes and eyebrows! You can see no
trace of them now, for reasons I will relate presently. But without
vanity, I may say I was charmingly pretty in those days, for I was the
real model of a sweet fat baby child of about t