any one could wish to see. Both sides of the main
street were lined with little shops, and as the children leaned out of
the carriage for a brief glimpse into their glittering windows, they
saw sights that made them long to stop and look more closely.

There were clothing shops, shoe shops, candy shops, a very
grand-looking milliner's establishment where the children were amused
to catch a glimpse of Angelina-Elfrida and Marie-Louise trying on
hats, and a gaily decorated doll theater where a crowd of dolls were
pushing their way in to see a Punch and Judy show. There were markets
where busy customers thronged to buy all sorts and kinds of doll
eatables, turkeys and chickens the size of sparrows and humming-birds,
yellow pumpkins as big as walnuts, red-cheeked apples like
cranberries, cabbages fully as large as the end of your thumb, and
freshly baked pies as big around as a penny.

Peter's eyes nearly popped out of his head as he passed all these good
things without hope of sampling any of them! The last shop they passed
was that of the royal baker, and they noticed that its windows were
boarded up, while a crowd of common dolls stood about in front of the
door, muttering angrily.

But now the business part of the town was left behind, and the
children were being driven through street after street of gaily
painted, neatly built, little houses with gardens full of tiny
bright-colored flowers, stables, garages--everything complete that the
heart of the most exacting doll in the world could desire. Ann and
Peter were quite wild about it all, and even Rudolf condescended to
admire. Now the houses were left behind and they entered a little
park, where tiny artificial lakes glittered and stiff little trees
were set about on the bright green grass. In the center of this park
stood the doll palace. It was pure white, finished in gold, and had
real glass windows in it, and white marble steps leading up to it, and
high gilded gates where a guard of soldiers turned out to present
arms, and a band was beginning to play. The rest of the procession
turned in at the gates of the palace, but rather to the children's
disappointment, the Queen gave their coachman orders to drive on.

"You may see my palace afterward, if we have time," she said, "but I
want to take you first of all to see my dear old home where I used to
live when I was a girl, when the little mother took care of me."

The children looked at one another. Then Peter