Rose did not
have to pretend very hard that her pet was soon in slumberland.
"Now I'm going to put her to bed," she whispered, and, walking down to the end of the car ("where it'll be quiet," the little girl said to herself), she laid the doll, wrapped in a shawl, down in the deep corner of the seat.
The afternoon wore on. The little Bunkers looked at their picture books—taking turns—and again gazed out of the window. Rose thought her doll had slept long enough, so she walked down to the end of the car to get her pet.
The little girl came back with a bundle in her arms, and, sitting down beside her mother, began unwrapping the shawl.
And then something very queer happened. There was a tiny little cry, and the bundle in Rose's arms moved! The little girl cried:
"Oh, Mother, look! Look, Mother! My dollie has come alive! It has turned into a real, live baby! Look! Oh, Mother!"
Mrs. Bunker turned from her paper to look down at what Rose held in her arms. And, to the surprise of the children's mother, she saw that her little girl held, not a doll, that could open and close her eyes, but a real, live baby, which was kicking and squirming in its blankets, and wrinkling up its tiny face, making ready to cry.
"Oh, Rose!" cried Mrs. Bunker. "What have you done?"
"I—I—didn't do anything!" Rose answered. "But my doll turned into a live baby!"
"Oh!" exclaimed Mrs. Bunker. "You have—you have——"
And just then, down at the other end of the car, a woman's voice cried:
"Oh, my baby! My baby! Where is my baby? This is only a doll!"
At once the car was a scene of great confusion. Mr. Bunker ran to where Rose and her mother sat, Rose still holding the live baby. The other little Bunkers wondered what had happened.
At the other end of the car a woman rushed frantically along, holding out a doll.
"Look! Look!" she cried. "Somebody took my dear baby and left this doll! Oh, conductor, stop the train!"
Daddy Bunker seemed to be the first to understand what had
Prev.
Back
Top