<h2>CHAPTER III<br/> <small>THE TEDDY BEARS TAKE A HAND</small></h2>
<p>THE Teddy Bears, as one may well suppose, were no less
interested in the furnishing and arrangement of the
doll’s house than the members of the family themselves.
They had scarcely been able to sleep a wink for thinking
and talking over the subject in hand, and Peter Pan himself had
proudly brought gifts, not exactly gold, frankincense and myrrh,
but something much more acceptable in the shape of a wee mail-box,
the very counterpart of those that hang upon the telephone posts.
It had been captured during one of his predatory night raids, during
which he and Bedelia had ransacked a neighboring toy store,
carrying off the mail-box as Peter Pan’s share of the loot, while
Bedelia joyfully abstracted a most delightful little workstand that
could be shut up like a camp chair and stood against the wall if so
desired, with a gorgeous yellow silk lining.</p>
<p>In justice to the bears, it must be said of them that they did not,
in this case, break through and steal, for Peter Pan left upon the
counter a piece of money, shaken down from his own little bank—a
most beautiful bank in the shape of a mottled, earthenware pig,
which Sally had presented to him without the smallest idea in the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</SPAN></span>
world that he would ever use it for legitimate purposes. But the
very fact of ownership turned the Teddy Bear at once into an inveterate
miser, and he hoarded like a magpie, levying on every pocketbook
that his mischievous paws fell upon. He was, however, too
cute to appropriate any but small coins, so that thus far nothing had
been missed. Teddy Bears can scarcely be supposed to have any
adequate idea of values, so when Peter Pan proudly deposited a
nickel on the counter, he considered that he was paying very well
for the articles chosen by himself and his wife. The piece of money
was afterwards found by the shopkeeper, and as he never missed
the small articles that had taken the fancy of the Teddy Bears, he
considered himself a nickel in, and “As a man thinketh, so is he.”</p>
<p>To extract the bit of money from the bowels of the pig had been
a fearful piece of work, and had it not been for the end in view, the
Teddy Bear would have given up in despair. To drop a nickel into
the little slot in the creature’s back, and then to listen to the delicious
rattling it made in the cavernous interior was one thing, but
to fish it out through that narrow aperture was quite another. Anyone
who has ever tried the experiment will appreciate the dreadful
quarter of an hour that ensued as the Teddy Bears, perspiring in
every pore, struggled with that most niggardly of china pigs.</p>
<div class="figright"> <ANTIMG src="images/illus022.jpg" width-obs="331" height-obs="509" alt="Girl on bed looking at three bears" /></div>
<p>First they essayed to fish out the coin, using successively a hair-pin
bent out straight and one end fashioned into a hook, a buttonhook,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</SPAN></span>
a pair of manicure scissors, ruining the curved points, a
crochet needle, and nurse’s best hat-pin. Nothing, however, availed.
The pig, like his predecessor in the story that would not jump over
the stile, would not give up the coveted
coin. Finally Bedelia seized it
by its head and shook it frantically,
literally as the oft quoted
terrier shakes the rat. But no
nickel! To be sure, they could
have smashed the pig, but in
spite of his obstinacy he
was the Teddy Bear’s
chief treasure, and
Peter Pan loved his
mottled exterior and
gloried in his impossible
snout and extremely
unpiglike ears. He could
not bring himself to sacrifice
a thing so cherished,
even on the altar of his
love for Sally.</p>
<p>After a while the bears desisted<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</SPAN></span>
from their efforts and held a council of war. Peter Pan had about
come to the end of his tether when suddenly his eyes, roaming miserably
about in search of some new weapon of offense, fell upon
something that caused him to utter a little shriek of delight. And
the article was nothing more nor less than a stick of chewing gum.
Now the Teddy Bear knew all about gum. He had tried to chew
some once and had been obliged to beg help from Sally, so closely
were his jaws welded together. She had laughingly pried them
open, and had advised him not to bite off more than he could chew
in the future.</p>
<p>Peter Pan did not intend to bite off anything in this case. He
put one end of the gum in his mouth and chewed on it till his jaws
ached, and then passed it on to Bedelia, who repeated the performance.
And in two shakes of a lamb’s tail the end of the stick of
gum was reduced to a mass of stickiness that rivaled fly-paper.
Peter Pan now turned the bank, that is, the pig on its back so that
the coins within it came rattling down over the opening. He next
carefully inserted the chewed end of the gum, using the unchewed
portion as a handle by which to propel it into the aperture, and presently
drew it triumphantly forth with two dimes and a nickel sticking
to the mass. Great were the rejoicings at the success of the trick,
and Peter Pan, supposing that the nickel was much the more valuable
as it was greater in size than the dimes, laid it aside while<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</SPAN></span>
he returned the other coins to the bank. Afterward he explained
the whole performance to Sally, who was very glad indeed to hear
it, for at first she had been somewhat doubtful as to the origin of
her delightful mail-box.</p>
<p>Meanwhile the furnishing and arranging went merrily on, and
Sally sighed in delighted rapture as she contemplated the work of
her hands and found that it was very good.</p>
<p>Her drawing-room she thought was her especial delight, all
done in red velvet, with a splendid red carpet and lace curtains at
the windows, over which hung draperies of red silk. A tall pier
glass stood between the windows, and on the mantel-shelf were a gilt
clock under a glass case, and two gilt candlesticks holding real wax
candles. Underneath, in the grate, a glowing flame of crimson tinfoil
shone comfortably, tinfoil being the fuel universally accepted
for grates in doll houses.</p>
<p>A fine center table, marble-topped, occupied the middle of the
room. The chairs were luxurious, and Sally only wished that her
size were compatible with nestling down on one of them.</p>
<p>Across the hall from the drawing-room was the music-room, all
furnished in blue upholstered satin, and containing two pianos, a
grand and an upright. Potted plants of the paper variety bloomed
in the windows and a wee violin in a polished case lay atop of the
music cabinet.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>Sally had destined this apartment to be a living-room and music-room
in one, and finally added a porch swing that hung in a frame
and teetered delightfully when a doll sat in it; a couple of parrots
in a gilt cage; and Bedelia’s workstand. The effect was somewhat
incongruous, especially in connection with blue satin chairs and
sofas, while Bob remarked, quite gratuitously, that when once the
parrots got started nobody could ever hear either the violin or pianos.
However, as Sally was the only one to be pleased, no one took any
notice of this remark.</p>
<p>With regret Sally turned from the bright little music-room, but
was presently just as deeply engrossed with the library. Here was
a peach of a room, to use her own expression—a room all furnished
and upholstered in green, with sleepy hollow chairs and a roll-top
desk in one corner. Around the walls ran shelves filled with tiny
books, and a wee telephone hung in one angle of the wall, near the
desk. At one end of the room was a big fireplace, over which rose a
high mantel-shelf, and a grandfather’s clock ticked, metaphorically
speaking, in the corner.</p>
<p>Sally had desired that her library should be “restful” and to
that end had worked out the scheme of furnishings on a somewhat
subdued scale. However, she succeeded admirably in carrying out
her design, an end which few grown-ups ever attain. Never was
there a more charming haven of rest to which a doll might fly for<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</SPAN></span>
refuge from the turmoil without than this dim, shadowy room, with
its deep lounging chairs and bewitching tea-table drawn up at one
side of the fire.</p>
<p>There was a tiny smoker’s set, too, ranged on an oriental looking
tabouret, a collection of tiny brass articles that would have delighted
the soul of any lover of the weed. Want of space had compelled
Sally to unite library and den, but the union of the two made
a much more charming room than either one could ever have hoped
to attain to by itself.</p>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/illus027.jpg" width-obs="320" height-obs="454" alt="Boy working at worktable" /></div>
<p>Bob had contributed to the library a distracting pipe rack,
fashioned from the bits of a cigarbox and cunningly cut out with his
jig-saw, an article whose usefulness promised to be unlimited as
far as a doll’s house was concerned. The rack was hung with tiny
pipes picked up at one of the ten-cent stores at ten cents per dozen.
Bob was proud of his handiwork and Sally considered it one of her
chief treasures because Bob had made it.</p>
<p>On the third floor were the bed-rooms and bath-room. The
bed-rooms, fascinatingly furnished with dainty patterns of cretonne,
with fine brass beds, and ruffled curtains at the windows, were places
of rest and delight. One of them was arranged for a nursery and
contained two cunning little white enameled cribs. There was also,
in this room, a most intricate folding bed for the nurse.</p>
<p>The bath-room was most elaborately appointed with shower<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</SPAN></span>
and needle baths, as well as a fine, white enameled tub and a complicated
system of plumbing. By means of this real water ran from a
tank over the tub and furnished
forth a liberal supply for the
ablutions of all the dollies.
To be sure, one was obliged
to be very careful not to allow
the tub to run over, for an
overflow meant ruin and rout
to ceilings below stairs.</p>
<p>Teddy Bears have no
sense of ratio and no
amount of explanation
could ever convince Bedelia
that she was of a
size entirely out of proportion
for the Walking House. Finally
she made one valiant effort to
establish herself therein, but was
driven to retire, growling, as she could
not force more than her big head and shoulders into any of the
ordinary-sized rooms. There would not have been room even for
Little Breeches, let alone for Bedelia’s generous proportions.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</SPAN></span></p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />