Sandmans Goodnight Stories | Page 6

And then it was Marie Doll and all the toys got the surprise of their
lives, for from the corner where he sat came Takeo, and when he stood
in front of his wife, he said, "Madam will not change the clothes of our

sons."
When Marie recovered from her surprise, she gasped: "Sons! They are
daughters!"
"They are sons, madam, and sons they will remain!" said Takeo,
looking at Marie very steadily.
"I thought you could not understand or speak our language," said Marie,
while all the others stood looking at Takeo in astonishment.
"I was made in this country, and so were you; but I was made to
represent a Japanese gentleman and I intend to live the life of one. As
for speaking, we Japanese never speak unless we have something to say.
I had something to say, and I said it. You heard me, madam. Those
children are our sons and you will not change their clothes."
Takeo turned around in a very sedate manner and returned to his corner
and sat down.
"I told you it would not turn out well," said Paper Doll to Teddy Bear.
"Oh, poor Marie Doll, what a life you will lead!"
But Marie Doll was still looking at her husband, and she did not hear
what Paper Doll said. She was smiling at Takeo. "Such dignity," she
whispered to herself, "and how masterful he is. I shall never dare
disobey him.
"Oh, you little darling boys! How I love you! You are just like your
handsome father." And Marie Doll hugged her children to her and
began to rock them.
"She is crazy," said Teddy Bear. "Marie would never give in if she
were in her right mind, I know."
"She is in love," said Paper Doll. "She has found a master, and some
women love to have a master."
"You women are queer creatures," said Teddy Bear. "I shall never

understand you."
"You are not supposed to understand us. You are supposed to love us,"
said Paper Doll.

MORNING-GLORY
[Illustration: Morning-glory]
Once upon a time there was a very little Morning-glory that grew on
the end of a high vine, and one day when the wind was blowing a brisk
breeze passed by the little Morning-glory, making it wish it, too, could
go along and see more of the world.
The big mother vine knew what was in the heart of her little Glory, so
she whispered soft words of love to it and told the little flower that it
must never follow the breeze, for he was a wanderer and might take it
far from its home, where it would be very unhappy and perhaps die out
in the cold world. But the silly little Morning-glory still wanted to leave
the big vine, and the next time the breeze came along it pushed up its
head and the breeze took it off the big vine and bore it along with it far,
far away.
But by and by the wind grew tired of carrying the little Glory, so it
dropped it, and when the Morning-glory looked around it found it was
in the midst of big tall trees and rocks and briers.
Vainly it tried to crawl along to a tree where it could twine itself around
and climb, but it was too small, and then the rain came and made it cold
and wet, and even the fickle wind did not come to it again.
Then the cold days came and the poor little Glory grew faded and had
to crawl under the dead leaves for protection.
When the summer came again up came the little Glory, but it was a sad
little flower. Now it longed to climb, but it was too small to do
anything but lie on the ground.

After a while it grew near to a bush and put its weak little vine around
it, hoping to get off the ground.
"What do you mean by trying to cling to me?" said the bush. "I have all
I can do to take care of myself."
So the poor little Morning-glory dropped back to the ground. By and by
it grew long enough to reach a tree and slowly it climbed up the big
trunk until it came to the branches.
"Now I shall be able to see the world," it thought. "This tree is big and
will shelter me, and I can climb to the very top."
As soon as the big tree saw what was happening it told the little
Morning-glory it would not have it climbing about its branches,
because it would spoil its leaves.
"What are you doing in our woods?" asked the tree. "You should be
growing in a garden, on an arbor or up the side of some little