Part 3 (1/2)

”Swis.h.!.+ Swas.h.!.+”

That was the s.h.i.+ny tin sword sweeping through the air. The string was sliced in two pieces.

The Clown was cut loose, and down he fell on the soft sofa cus.h.i.+on, not being hurt at all. He was saved from burning.

”Hurray! Hurray for our brave Captain!” cried all the toys, clapping their hands, and the China Cat clapped his paws, which were just the same as hands.

”Are you all right?” asked the Bold Tin Soldier after he had climbed down the ladder and hurried over to where the Clown was getting up off the sofa cus.h.i.+on.

”Yes, thank you! I am all right,” was the answer. ”I should not have tried to swing by that string so near the burning gas. But I did not think. Now, oh dear! Look at my trousers!”

Well might the clown say that, for his fine yellow and red trousers were scorched and burned. It was lucky the Clown himself was not burned, but it was too bad his suit was spoiled.

”Oh dear me! no one will ever buy me now,” said the Clown sadly, looking at his legs. ”I am damaged! I'll be thrown into the waste-paper basket!”

”Perhaps I could make you a new suit,” said the Rag Doll. ”I can sew a little, and if I had some cloth I might at least put a patch over the burned places if I shouldn't have time for a whole suit.”

”Thank you,” answered the Clown. ”But I would never look the same.

And thank you, Captain, for cutting me down before I was burned,” he went on to the Bold Tin Soldier. ”It was very brave of you.”

”Oh, it was nothing,” the Captain modestly said. ”We soldiers are here to do just such things as that.”

”Hus.h.!.+” suddenly called the Monkey on a Stick. ”Here come the clerks. The store is going to open!”

And so all the toys had to be quiet and go back to their places.

They could not make believe be alive until night should come again.

One by one the girl clerks took their places behind the toy counters near the shelves on which the different playthings were stored. One girl picked up the Calico Clown.

”Well, I do declare!” exclaimed this girl. ”Look at my fancy Clown, will you, Mabel?”

”What's the matter with him, Sallie?” asked the clerk whose name was Mabel.

”Why, his red and yellow pants are scorched,” answered Sallie. ”I wonder what happened to him. Some customer who was smoking must have dropped a match or some hot cigar ashes on him. I must tell the manager about this. I can't sell a damaged toy like that.”

”No, you can't,” agreed Mabel, after she had looked at the poor Calico Clown.

”Oh, but I know what we can do!” the girl clerk suddenly exclaimed.

”What?” asked Sallie.

And ”what?” wondered the Clown.

”We can make him a new pair of trousers,” was the answer. ”Up in my locker I have some pieces of silk I had left over when I dressed my little sister's doll for Christmas. I'll get my needle and thread and the pieces of silk, and this noon, at lunch hour, we'll make a new suit for the Clown. Then he won't be damaged, and you can sell him.”

”Oh, that will be fine!” cried the other girl, and the Clown, hearing this, felt much better.

By this time customers were coming into the store to buy toys and other things, and the toy counters and shelves were busy places. The Bold Tin Soldier had gone back to his box with his men, and there he and they stood, straight and stiff as ramrods, waiting for what might happen to them.