“Just the thing!” ejaculated the father, upon beholding the wee tureen; covered and shallow dishes, gravy-boat, saltcellars, casters, and a dozen plates, white, with a rim of gold; all so graceful in design, so dainty in material, as to elicit his unqualified admiration. Already he saw, in imagination, Nettie’s eyes glisten at sight of them; her deft fingers arranging them--cunning little housewife that she was. “Then you don’t care for the tea-set?” making a movement to close the box. “I--don’t--know!” hesitatingly. “I suppose she will want to spread a supper and breakfast table, as well as play dinner, won’t she?” “If she has not cups and saucers already, I would certainly recommend you to take these,” and the artful tempter made a tea-tray of the lid of the case, setting out the service so attractively, that her inexperienced customer speedily regarded the second array of china as a “must have.” “Now, perhaps, you will look at a table!” pursued the woman, leading the way to the back of the store. “We have a novelty in that line--an extension-table.” “Of course! how stupid in me not to remember that the china would be useless unless she had something upon which to arrange it!” Mr. Dryden had entered thoroughly into the spirit of the enterprise, and was highly diverted at his oversight; very grateful to her who had corrected his blunder. The table was a neat affair, with turned legs and polished top, and constructed, as had been said, upon the extension principle. Mr. Dryden took it on the spot. “Chairs?” he said, interrogatively. It was now the lady’s turn to be ashamed of _her_ forgetfulness. Half a dozen cane-seat chairs were added to the pile, which betokened Mr. Dryden to be a valuable customer. Then followed a case of knives, a knife-box, and an assortment of silver (?) ware, and both parties came to a momentary halt. The gentleman recovered himself first. “Now, a doll--for which she can keep house!” “Wax finish, porcelain, biscuit, or rubber?” said the other, glibly. “Dressed, or undressed?” “Dressed--I suppose, since to-morrow is so near. As to the rest, I am no judge. But I want the prettiest doll in the establishment.” His experience in this species of merchandise was so limited that he might well be excused for starting at the wonderfully life-like lady paraded for his inspection. Her hair waved in natural ringlets; she rolled her eyes, as the shopwoman moved her to and fro. She was dressed in the height of the mode--neither gloves, nor hat, nor parasol being wanting to complete her toilet; and when, in obedience to a dexterous pull of a wire upon her left side, she squeaked “Mamma!” and, responding to a similar twitch of the corresponding muscle under the right arm, she cried “Papa!” Mr. Dryden was overwhelmed. “What _will_ toy makers do next?” he articulated. “The art of manufacturing dolls is carried to great perfection,” quietly replied the woman. “Did you say that you would take this, sir?”