§2 THE DOLL AND HER. FRIENDS.

no friendly step or voice was near, and I was com-
pletely in his power.

He began rummaging’ his pockets, grinning and
making’ faces at me all the time.. Presently he drew
forth a long piece of string, extremely dirty, look-
ing as if it had been trailed in the mud.

“ Now for it,” he exclaimed; “now you shall
receive the reward of all your stupidity and affecta-
tion. I do think dolls are the most affected crea-
tures on the face of the earth.” |

He laid hold of me by my head, pushing my
wig on one side. Alas for my beautiful hair, it
was disarranged for ever! But that was a trifle
compared with what followed. He tied one end of
his muddy string round my neck, drawing it so
tight that I foresaw I should be marked for life,
and hung’ the other end to a nail in the wall.

There I dangled, while he laughed and quizzed
me, adding insult to injury. He twisted the strmg
as tight as possible, and then let it whirl round and
round till it was all untwisted again. I banged
against the wall as I spun like a top, and wished
that I could sleep like a top too. But 1 was wide
awake to my misfortunes; and each interval of
stillness, when the string was untwisted, only en-
hanced them, by shewing in painful contrast. the
happy home whence I had been torn. For I was