c-box, some
playing harps, others scraping violins in obedience to the head monkey,
who stood in the attitude of a leader of the orchestra, wearing a black
coat with long tails. The vain little Swiss man fancied the passers-by
paused only to admire him.

Night came, and the master of the shop closed the door, placed shutters
before the show-cases, and seated himself at his desk. The little window
in the rear was still uncovered, and revealed the light on the desk
where the master wrote. He heard the scratching of his pen on the paper,
and the patter of rain-drops outside, for the night was stormy. There
was another sound in the shop, softer than fall of the rain, and finer
than chirp of a cricket, or humming sound of a mosquito: the toys in the
window were talking together.

"I have been here for a month, and everybody says I am too dear at five
francs," said the goose in top-boots.

"How could you expect to sell, when I am in the same window?" growled
the bear.

"What do you say?" cackled the goose, indignantly.

"He is only a bear," said one of the rope-dancers, cutting a caper.

"Do you know who I am?" retorted the bear, with dignity. "I am the Bear
of Berne. You will find me on the shield of the city, and kept in a pit
by the citizens to this day."

"What is the use of boasting?" interposed the St. Bernard dog,
pettishly. "The bears of Berne live in idleness; they walk about in a
pit all day, or stand on their hind-legs begging for nuts. A St. Bernard
dog is better employed, I should hope. We save the travellers in the
snow who lose their way on the great St. Bernard mountain. If you wish
to see the dog Barry, who saved fifteen lives, look for him in the Berne
Museum, stuffed, and kept in a glass case."

The bear was very cross at this reply. He pulled his cotton night-cap
over his right eye, which gave him a very savage appearance, and turned
the handle of his organ as if his life depended on it.

"I am not Swiss; I am a German," said the Nuremberg fat boy, puffing out
his India rubber cheeks.

"Hear him!" cried the lady made of blue paper, on the stage of the
little theatre--"hear the rubber boy boast of being a German, when there
are French toys about!"

At this all the little babies made of pink wax, in the cradles, laughed;
and even the goats shook their heads, because they came from the Savoy
side of Lake Geneva, which made them very French in their feelings.

"If somebody would wind us up, we w