IT’S a dreadful thing to be a doll, children are so inconsiderate. I myself have lost an arm and a leg through their rough handling, and once I trembled for the safety of my head. Master Johnny wanted to play at Mary Queen of Scots being executed.

I was quite relieved when Dolly said that Mary Queen of Scots had been very beautiful and that I could never be made to look like her; it was not flattering, perhaps, but it was safe.

They gave up that idea and then Johnny said they would go out and fly his parachute. I thought that now I should be left in peace for a short time, but no! Johnny caught me up, tied a string round my waist and fastened me to the end of the parachute, and then those two cruel children climbed up to the top of the garden wall and dropped me over.

It is not altogether unpleasant to sail through the air with a parachute, but the bump when you reach the ground is terrible. I think I must have fainted away, for I remember nothing more until I found myself lying on a bed of violets with a tiny little creature sitting beside me who asked me how I felt. The string which bound me to the parachute had broken and I was free again, but I felt very stiff and uncomfortable.

However, I managed to reply politely to the little elf’s question, and having explained how I came to be lying there, on the wrong side of the garden wall, I added that I trusted I should never have to go back again. “What!” cried the elf, “you would really be contented to remain here always?” I answered that I should, and he then ran off and consulted with a group of elves who had been watching us from a distance.

When he returned he told me that he and his companions had long been wanting a queen, and seeing that I was so much larger and handsomer than they, they had decided to offer me the crown.

Of course, I was obliged to hesitate for a short time—it isn’t good manners to appear too eager about anything—but I meant to accept in the end, and was just preparing a nice little speech, when I was grabbed—yes, grabbed by a dirty little hand and thrown over the wall, where Dolly caught me. Of course it was Johnny—that boy always was the bane of my life, and it was like him to spoil all my prospects.

However, Dolly was so glad to have me back again that I was a little comforted, though I have never quite got over the shock of my voyage over the garden wall.

L. L. Weedon.