The Doll and Her Friends | Page 6

small boy, who said it would be the most useful toy he
had.
Could this be the case with every thing? Was it possible that every
thing properly applied might have its use, and that its value depended
upon those who used it? If so, why was Geoffrey blamed for spending

his money in tarts? He liked them. Perhaps he had plenty of food at
home, and that uselessness consisted in a thing's not being really
wanted. I revolved the subject in my mind, and tried to discover the use
of every thing I saw, but I was not always successful. The subject was
perplexing; and gradually all my thoughts became fixed on the point of
most importance to myself--namely, my own use.
How changed were my ideas since the time when I imagined the world
to belong to dolls! Their whole race now seemed to be of very small
importance; and as for my individual self, I could not be sure that I had
any use at all, and still less what, or to whom.
Day after day I lay on my counter unnoticed, except by the shopwoman
who covered us up at night, and re-arranged us in the morning; and
even this she did with such an indifferent air, that I could not flatter
myself I was of the smallest use to her. Every necessary care was
bestowed upon me in common with my companions; but I sighed for
the tender attentions that I sometimes saw lavished by children upon
their dolls, and wished that my mistress would nurse and caress me in
the same manner.
She never seemed to think of such a thing. She once said I was dusty,
and whisked a brush over my face; but that was the only separate mark
of interest I ever received from her. I had no reasonable ground of
complaint, but I began to grow weary of the insipidity of my life, and to
ask myself whether this could be my only destiny. Was I never to be of
use to any body? From time to time other toys were carried away.
Many a giddy top and lively ball left my side in childish company, and
disappeared through those mysterious gates by which the busy human
race entered our calm seclusion.
At last even dolls had their day. The beautiful waxen princess no longer
graced our dominions. She was bought by an elderly lady for a birthday
present to a little grand-daughter; and on the very same day the 'old
familiar faces' of six dolls who had long shared my counter vanished
from my sight, one after another being bought and carried away.
I was sorry to lose them, though while we lived together we had had

our little miffs and jealousies. I had sometimes thought that the one
with the red shoes was always sticking out her toes; that she of the
flaxen ringlets was ready to let every breath of wind blow them over
her neighbours' faces; that another with long legs took up more room
than her share, much to my inconvenience. But now that they were all
gone, and I never could hope to see them again, I would gladly have
squeezed myself into as small compass as the baby doll in the
walnut-shell, in order to make room for them once more.
One thing, however, was satisfactory: dolls certainly had their use.
Seven had been bought, and therefore why not an eighth? I had been
sinking almost into a state of despondency, but now my hopes revived
and my spirits rose. My turn might come.
And my turn did come. Every circumstance of that eventful day is
deeply impressed on my memory. I was as usual employed in making
remarks upon the passing crowd, and wondering what might be the use
of every body I saw, when I perceived the lady and the little girl who
had been almost my first acquaintances among the human race. As they
approached my stall, I heard the mama say, 'Have you decided what to
buy with the sixpence?'
'Oh yes, quite,' answered the child; 'I am going to buy a sixpenny doll.'
The words thrilled through me; her eyes seemed fixed on mine, and the
sixpence was between her fingers. I imagined myself bought. But she
continued: 'I think, if you don't mind the trouble, I should like to go
round the bazaar first, to see which are the prettiest.'
'By all means,' replied the lady; and they walked on, carrying all my
hopes with them.
I had often fancied myself the prettiest doll of my size in the place; but
such conceit would not support me now. I felt that there were dozens,
nay scores, who more than equalled me; and all discontented notions of
my neglected merit