These two from the corner of the window all day had watched the people passing up and down the busy street. That is, the Japanese doll had watched the passers by, but the Messenger Boy had watched her more than anything else. He thought she was the oddest and prettiest little lady he had ever seen; her eyes were so black and shiny, her cheeks so rosy and her tiny mouth just like a round red cherry. And then she sat up so gracefully and held her fan with such an air! "She isn't a bit stiff," thought the Messenger Boy, "I believe I will try to make friends with her." So he cleared his throat and said "ahem!" The Japanese Lady gave a tiny jump. You see, she was so surprised! Then she gave a shy look at the Messenger Boy and twirled her little fan. She saw that the Messenger Boy was about to speak to her and this pleased her very much, for the other dolls in the window had treated her with contempt and snubbed her because she was a foreigner. Even the French Doll had refused to be friendly, and this was rather odd, because she was also a foreigner. But she said the Japanese Doll was outlandish and had no style about her. The Japanese Lady was too polite to make any rude remarks in answer, so she had just remained silent. She now began talking to the Messenger Boy and they soon became fast friends. So satisfied were they with each other's society that they quite forgot the rude dolls. It began to grow late in the afternoon and now very few children passed by. But there were more big people than before; they passed into the shop and soon the dolls began to go from the window. Mademoiselle Fifine went and most of the pretty dolls followed. Nobody seemed to want the Japanese Lady or the Messenger Boy, but they did not mind that at all, for they were quite content to be together. The Japanese Lady had described to the Boy all the beautiful things she had seen in far away Japan, while the Boy had told her in return of some of the wonderful sights to be seen in the big city. They grew very confidential, and at length their affection became so firm that they vowed to remain true friends as long as they were dolls, which was another way of saying as long as they lived. I have said that almost all the children had gone home because it was getting late, and now the electric lamps were lighted, but there were still four little girls who were looking in the gay window on Twenty-third Street. Two of them were nicely dressed and their bright faces peeped out from warm furs. They looked so full of joy that it made your own face beam in return. Their nurse was with them and they were out doing their Christmas shopping. "We've bought most all the presents we mean to give to-morrow, and now we can each spend our very own two dollars," said Bessie. "Yes," answered her sister Alice, "Wasn't it nice in Uncle Frank to give us each two dollars to spend. It's much nicer to buy your own present, I think."