It was a big toy shop in West Twenty-third Street. There were crowds of people hurrying by, for to-morrow would be Christmas Day and all those who had children to love were busy buying presents. The shop windows looked very gay indeed. There were all sorts of toys you could imagine. Lots of new mechanical toys, steam engines that ran on a real track, dancing bears and a cat which played the fiddle. In the middle of the window was a tiny fir tree all lit up with colored lights and its boughs covered with gay ornaments. Santa Claus was there, too, and on his back he carried a pack from which came a stream of candy and toys. All these things pleased the little boys and girls very much. There were a number of them out shopping with their parents. The boys admired the mechanical toys, but the little girls went straight to the other shop window where there were oh, such a lot of dolls! China dolls and wax dolls; dolls from Germany and dolls from France; dolls that could say "Mamma," "Papa," and others that could even sing a little song and say "Now I lay me." The finest doll was a young lady who had just arrived from Paris. Mademoiselle Fifine had brought with her a trunk of fine costumes and some of these were spread out beside her in the window, to the great admiration of the other dolls. There were pink silk frocks and blue satin ones; hats and bonnets trimmed with real lace and ostrich feathers, and, in fact, all sorts of nice clothes for evening wear and morning wear, and all occasions. Away down in a corner of the big window were two little dolls that nobody noticed at all, and this was strange, for they were really very pretty; but I suppose they were unnoticed in such a crowd of fashionable dolls. One of these two was a little lady straight from Japan, and the other was a New York District Messenger Boy. The Japanese doll was dressed in a lovely gown of purple silk all covered with yellow butterflies. Her hair was done up in a shining black coil on the back of her head and was all stuck through with tiny jewelled pins. In her tiny hand she carried a paper fan. The little messenger boy stood very proudly beside her. He wore a suit of dark blue clothes and on his head was a little cap such as the New York boys wear; he carried a black book in his hand and looked very alert, as though he were just about to deliver a telegram to you.