able,
Or open the nursery door;

And this poor little maid, she was crying--
Her dolly had such a fall!
Yes there on the ground he was lying--
Her darling, the best of them all.

This dolly had been a brave soldier,
With uniform, sabre, and all,
And worshipp'd a doll in the doll's-house,
That stood by the side of the wall.

She was only a poor tiny maiden,
A wee little woman of four,
And she sat with her heart nearly breaking,
With the doll in her lap on the floor.

And the poor, tiny, sorrowful maiden,
The wee little woman of four,
Now lies with her dead soldier dolly,
Asleep on the nursery floor.

The Dead Doll

You needn't be trying to comfort me--
I tell you my dolly is dead!
There's no use saying she isn't--
With a crack like that on her head.
It's just like you said it wouldn't hurt
Much to have my tooth out that day.
And then when they most pulled
My head off, you hadn't a word to say.

And I guess you must think I'm a baby,
When you say you can mend it with glue!
As if I didn't know better than that!
Why, just suppose it was you?
You might make her look all mended--
But what do I care for looks?
Why, glue's for chairs and tables,
And toys, and the backs of books!

My dolly! my own little daughter!
Oh, but it's the awfullest crack!
It just makes me sick to think of the sound
When her poor head went whack
Against this horrible brass thing
That holds up the little shelf.
Now, Nursey, what makes you remind me?
I know that I did it myself?

I think you must be crazy--
You'll get her another head!
What good would forty heads do her?
I tell you my dolly is dead!
And to think that I hadn't quite finished
Her elegant New Year's hat!
And I took a sweet ribbon of hers
List night to tie on that horrid cat!

When my mamma gave me that ribbon--
I was playing out in the yard--
She said to me most expressly:
"Here's a ribbon for Hildegarde."
And I went and put it on Tabby,
And Hildegarde saw me do it;
But I said to myself, "Oh, never mind,
I don't believe she knew it!"

But I know that she knew it now,
And I just believe, I do,
That her poor little heart was broken,
And so her head broke too.
Oh, my baby! my little baby!
I wish my head had been hit!
For I've hit it over and over,
And it hasn'