HELEN lived in a fine big house around the corner on the next street, but each day she came to play in the curly shavings with Tommy, and together they watched Mr. Poodle make his toys.

Certainly those were fine toys Mr. Poodle made. Helen’s mamma said there never was such a fine toy maker anywhere as Mr. Poodle. She said that he loved to sit at his bench and make the toy people, and that he put every bit of his heart into his work; and of course, when he loved his work so much, why some of his heart and some of his love had to pop right out and jump into the toys. Helen’s mamma said that was why Peter {12} Poodle’s toys were the best in all the world, and moreover, they were not painted with cheap colors that would come off the minute you put them in your mouth, or stuck together with bad smelling glue that would never hold more than a day or two.

Sometimes when Mr. Poodle was making a toy he would be singing such a funny song that Tommy and Helen had to stop their play and have a good laugh. Then Mr. Poodle would look at them over the tops of his spectacles, and make believe he felt very cross because they laughed. But Tommy and Helen could see the twinkle that went jumping around in Mr. Poodle’s eyes, so they knew he wasn’t one bit cross; he wasn’t either, for he thought it fine to hear little boys and girls laugh. Why, sometimes he would be so glad that he would take his brush and paint a smile right on the face of one of the toys he was making, and the smile would always stay there, so the toy could be very happy as long as it lived. That was the kind of a man Mr. Poodle was.

Of course, Mr. Poodle’s toys were not the common everyday sort. No, indeed! why some of them looked as if they could truly walk and talk like real people. Mr. Poodle said that really and truly toys could walk and talk.

Tommy and Helen laughed when Mr Poodle spoke that way, and Tommy said: “Why, Mr. Poodle, toys can’t talk, they haven’t any tongues.” Then you should have heard Mr. Poodle laugh. “Prut,” he said, “didn’t you know toys don’t have to have tongues to talk? Now you listen and I will ask Master Rolie Polie to sing for you.” Master Rolie Polie was the name of a little clown. Mr. Poodle had a name for every one of his toys; he said boys and girls {13} wouldn’t like to go through the world without names, and neither did toys; and moreover, having names made them much more sociable. Then Mr. Poodle introduced the clown to Helen and Tommy: “Master Rolie Polie,” he said, “this lady and gentleman would like to have you sing them a song. Let it be something funny, something jolly.”

Tommy and Helen now listened very quietly, and Mr. Poodle tilted back his chair and beat time with his finger while he hummed the words of a little song, just as if he were repeating them after the clown. When he finished, he nodded his head approvingly and said: “Very good! Very good, indeed! Thank you, Master Rolie Polie; that was a fine song and no mistake.”

Helen and Tommy laughed at the funny song, and thanked Mr. Poodle. “We liked the song very much,” said Tommy. “But I think, Mr. Poodle, we never would have heard one single word if you had not been singing also.”

Mr. Poodle then patted both of them on the head very kindly and said: “Never mind, it certainly is a little hard in the beginning to hear what the toy people say, because not having any tongues they cannot talk plainly. But by and by, if you only try to learn and are patient, you will get to know the toy language, and then you can understand every bit as well as I do.”

Helen and Tommy thought that would be fine, and said they were sure they could be patient.

After that, Mr. Poodle had two little soldiers, Captain Hinkle Pinkle of the infantry and Captain Noddle Poddle of the cavalry, lead their armies in a wonderful battle.

During the excitement of this battle no one noticed the entrance of a stranger. Had Tommy looked, he would {14} have seen the man to be that same big ruffian who had chased him through the dark street the night he came to the toy shop. A sly look appeared in the man’s eyes as he caught sight of Tommy, and a wicked smile twisted the corners of his mouth. Then he turned to the door, and, lifting the latch, quickly left the toy shop.

Helen was glad when the war ended for it frightened her and besides she did not like battles, so she thought she would go home to her mamma. But Tommy said: “Don’t you be afraid Helen, I was holding your hand and I would not let any of the soldiers hurt you.” {15}

“Did the soldiers really and truly fight, Tommy?” Helen asked, when they were again seated in the pile of yellow, curly shavings. “Didn’t Mr. Poodle move them about with his hand, and wasn’t it he who blew upon the trumpet?”

“O, yes, the soldiers certainly were fighting,” said Tommy. “When Mr. Poodle moved them, he did only what the captains ordered. Didn’t you hear Captain Pinkle and Captain Poddle shouting their commands, Helen?”

“Yes, I think, I did,” said Helen. “Which captain do you think was the best fighter, Tommy?”

“I believe captain Poddle was the best fighter,” said Tommy. “Don’t you think Captain Poddle was the best, Helen?”

“I don’t know,” said Helen. “I think Captain Pinkle was a very brave fighter, too, and I wished he had a horse to ride, like Captain Poddle’s.”

“Yes,” said Tommy, “Captain Pinkle was a brave fighter. I think they were both brave fighters; don’t you think they were both brave fighters, Helen?”

When Mr. Poodle heard these words of the children, he said: “Well, well, well, you certainly are getting clever at learning the toy language. I think you must know it now nearly as well as I do. That is because you love the toy people and they love you. What do you say to our taking a trip tomorrow to Toyville?”

“Toyville?” asked Helen and Tommy. “Please, Mr. Poodle, where is Toyville?”

Mr. Poodle laughed when he heard that question. “O, dear,” he said, “the idea of any little boys or girls not knowing about Toyville! that really is most absurd. Why, Toyville is the finest and jolliest little city to be found {16} anywhere in the whole world. I thought everybody knew about Toyville.”

“Won’t you please tell us some more?” asked Helen and Tommy. “Is it very far away, Mr. Poodle? Can we really and truly go there?”

“Yes,” said Mr. Poodle, “we can really and truly go there. Toyville is only a little way beyond the Hills of Troubleland; it lies in the Vale of Joy, which, by some people is called the Valley of Happiness. Once upon a time, so long ago, indeed, that nobody living now can remember exactly how long, there wasn’t any Toyville. Then, one day, some of the Toy people made the perilous trip through the Hills of Troubleland, and upon coming into the Vale of Joy, found the land so beautiful that they at once set about the building of a little city. By and by, other Toy people came that way, and the city grew and grew until it covered all the valley.”

“Will Captain Pinkle, Captain Poddle and Rolie Polie go there to live some time?” asked Tommy.

“And will my dolly go there, too, Mr. Poodle?” asked Helen.

“Yes,” said Mr. Poodle, “all the Toy people go there sometime unless they get lost by the way, somewhere in the Hills of Troubleland. You see, first of all, the Toy people came into this world to live with little boys and girls to play with them and make them happy. Some of the Toy people go to one city, some to another, and some even go to live in the country. The Toy people never care to what house they go if there is only a boy or girl living there, but houses that are without children are much too lonesome. {17}

“Sometimes boys and girls get tired of playing with the Toy people, or they grow up and get so big feeling they think the games the Toy people play are silly. And sometimes boys and girls are rough with the Toy people, tossing them about until their joints get loose or even broken, and their heads battered. Then, the Toy people, knowing there is no longer a welcome for them, in those houses, feel sad and go off to hide in a drawer somewhere, and by and by, even get up in the attic hidden away behind boxes or trunks. They wait patiently for perhaps almost a year, hoping every day to hear the children call for them; but the children have forgotten all about their old playmates. Then, one day, when it is raining and nobody can go out of doors, somebody thinks about the Toy people and goes to search, first, in the drawer, then in the attic. Alas, it is too late! the Toy people have gone, gone for ever. Gone through the Hills of Troubleland into the Valley of Happiness, where they are now living peacefully in their beautiful city of Toyville.”

“Do the Toy people play and have fun in Toyville, Mr. Poodle?” asked Tommy.

“Fun!” How Mr. Poodle did laugh when he repeated that word. “Yes, indeed, they have fun,” he said. “Of course, the older people have work to do; like flower gardens to plant; and orchards and such things to tend; but the little Toy people have more fun than I can ever find words to tell about. Why, everybody can sing and laugh and have ever and ever so much sport. Nobody in Toyville cares one single mite how much noise is made. They all think it the finest kind of fun to see the little Toy people have a good time. If the little Toy people want to, {18} they can get down on their knees and play, and never wear out their stockings. If the little Toy people want to dig in the dirt and make mud pies, or build forts, or play grocery store, their clothes or their hands and faces never get at all soiled, because the dirt there is not one bit dirty. Yes indeed, Toyville is certainly a fine place in which to have fun.”

Mr. Poodle now looked at the clock. “O me, O my,” said he; “it is almost supper time, and here I am talking away as if we never had to bother about eating. Run along now, but come back early to-morrow and I will have everything ready for our journey to Toyville.”

That night when Helen’s mamma was tucking her up cosily in bed so she would have happy dreams, Helen said: “Mamma, to-morrow Mr. Poodle is going to take Tommy and me for a visit to Toyville.”