"Indeed there are, and when she comes I will show her to you. Remember the doll in 'Ole Luckoie;' she could speak, and had a fine wedding." "But that isn't a true story," said Ernestine wisely, putting her hand to her head, which was beginning to ache badly. "Only think what a charming thing it is to have a wedding," Angelika ran on. "I once went to a real wedding, and it was almost finer than the one in the story. Oh, the bride has a lovely time! Why, she sits just in the middle of the table, and in front of her is a great, tall cake, with a little house on top of it and a little man inside, a little bit of a man, with a bow and arrows, but no clothes on at all. She has the biggest piece of cake, and they put the dear little man upon her plate, and she is helped first to everything. I was really vexed with my cousin for eating hardly anything. And only think, last of all came ice-cream doves sitting in a nest made of sugar, upon eggs of marchpane! They looked so natural that I was too sorry when my cousin cut off one of their heads; I could have cried, and I determined not to eat any of it, but by the time it came to me, every one could see that it was not a real dove, for it was all melting away, and you had to eat it with a spoon. And there were quantities of champagne, and all the gentlemen made long speeches to the bride, and you had to sit perfectly still and not rattle your spoon at all while they were talking, but when they had done you could scream as loud as you pleased, and clatter your glasses, and the more noise you made the better; and all were pleased and kissed one another; only my cousin sat there so stupidly and cried. I wouldn't have cried when everything was done to please me. And I'll tell you what, when my brother comes back he must bring you a boy doll with a hat and waistcoat, and then he shall marry my doll. He will come in six months, but that must be a long time; for mamma cried when he went away. Perhaps we shall be grown up by then, and can make our dolls' clothes ourselves. That would be lovely." "But we shall not be grown up in six months," said Ernestine. "First winter must come, and then summer again, and then winter and summer again, before we are grown up!" "That is terribly long," cried Angelika. "I don't see how we can wait so long." "And when we are grown up we cannot play with dolls. Then I shall buy myself a telescope like Uncle Leuthold's, and always be looking into the moon, for I like it better than anything." "Into the moon? Have you ever looked into the moon?" asked Angelika in amazement. "Indeed I have." "How does it look there?" "Oh, beautiful, most beautiful! It shines and gleams so silvery, and it is so calm and quiet, and there are mountains and valleys there just like ours, only they are not coloured, they are just pure light!" "Did you see the man in the moon?"