Waterbury Democrat

IN A TOY SHOP.

He walked into the toy shop with the uncertain air bred by unfamiliarity. He was not old--perhaps 50; he may, indeed, have been younger. The lines about the mouth and the crow's feet about the eyes, told of a life that had been none too easy, and yet there was that subtle air of prosperity about him, too, that in turn told its tale.

Outside in the street the sun beat down on the white sidewalk with a glare that reflected even into the carefully shaded shop. Behind the counters the young women stood or sat in little groups. They looked cool and pretty in their light summer frocks. On the counters were toys. Heaps piled on heaps, it seemed to the man, although the arrangement was orderly enough.

For a moment he stood in the doorway. After the glare of the street the shop seemed almost in darkness. Gradually the forms of the young women were outlined to his sight, and then he saw dimly the things on the counters.

An officious and obsequious young man came forward rubbing his hands. Within a minute the man was in charge of a cool-looking young woman, with a pretty smile and a gracious manner. Almost before he knew it the man was talking with her and explaining things that needed no explanation.

"I want to get a er-er-er, a toy, you know," he said.

"Yes, sir," said the young woman.

"Here is a very pretty doll. How would that do?" and she brought out a wonderful creation with eyes that opened and shut, and long blond curls. It was dressed in a pale blue silk gown.

"How do you like that?" asked the young woman, holding the doll up for inspection. Then she pressed a hidden spring.

"Mamma, mamma, papa, papa!" said the doll.

"Great Scott! what's that?" almost shouted the man.

"I was making the doll talk," replied the girl.

"Do they make dolls that talk?" asked the man.

"Why," said the girl, with a pitying smile, "they did that ten years ago."

"Did they?" said the man; "well, you see it's a good many years since I've seen any toys."

"Shall I send it home?" asked the young woman.

"No," said the man; "I don't think that would do at all. I suppose you think I'm a pretty old man to be buying toys," he continued, irrelevantly, "but, you see, I've been so busy trying to get rich that I never had time to think about getting married till about two years ago. Been out West all the time," he continued, half sadly, "and, somehow, I didn't see things like that out there."

"Here is something else that you might like, sir," interposed the young woman, as she brought out a wonderful locomotive and train of cars. She pressed a spring, and the engine bell rang, the whistle blew, and off the train started on the circular track.

"Is that what they call a toy?" asked the man.

"That is certainly a toy," replied the girl, with a laugh.

"I wish I could remember some of the things I had to play with when I was a boy," mused the man; "I don't suppose you could get me a Noah's Ark, could you?" he continued doubtfully.

"I'll see, sir," said the young woman, "but they're awfully old-fashioned."

"Mebbe so; mebbe so," said the man absently.

The young woman walked to the rear of the shop and soon returned with the toy in question.

Yes, there it was. The Noah's Ark! It hadn't changed a bit in all the years that had fled. The same old gabled roof, one side of which opened like the lid of a box. The same square walls, with the little green windows; the same narrow ledge around the bottom, and the picture of the dove, bearing the branch of olive, painted on the side.

Slowly the man opened the box and began to take out the little figures. His hands actually trembled with delight. The wonderfully made green trees, standing on the little brown bits of wood that are meant to represent mother earth. The quaint figures of men and women; the soldiers, with their little wooden staffs. And then the animals. Where has their like ever been seen before?

He spread them out before him and looked at and beyond them, and the shop, and the glare of the sidewalk without vanished from his vision. Green fields stretched before him, and deep in their hollows nestled the little white house with the bright green blinds and the red chimney.

In front of the house was a narrow little walk bordered on each side with sweet peas in bloom. How they smell! He could even smell them here in the shop. Then he looked up. The girl was wearing a bunch of those wonderful blossoms at her belt. He had not noticed them before, and he had almost forgotten how sweet those blossoms can smell. There is a little lad running up the narrow walk toward the house. One arm, broken by a fall from a tree, hangs limp by his side. A sweet-faced woman comes rushing out to meet him, and with a cry of tender love gathers him into her arms. He lies in her arms, sobbing while they rush for a doctor. And as he lies there, bearing the pain as best he can, the little sister comes toddling up with something in her hand for him.

"Take dis, Tommy; oo hurt," and she hands him the choicest treasure of all her treasures, the little blue camel from the Noah's Ark.

And here, almost half a century later, he stands with something warm and sticky held in his hand. He opens it, and lying in the palm is the blue camel from the Noah's Ark.

In all these years that he had forgotten them the little blue camel and its companions have not changed. They are the same now as then.

"I'll take that," he said shortly, as he turned away.

At home his wife laughed when she saw the toy.

"Baby is too young for a Noah's Ark," she said.

"Why did you buy it?"

"There is a little blue camel in it," he said vaguely.