“I will promise to take very good care of her and return her to you in a week. Will you let her go with me, Marcella?”
Marcella finally agreed and when the stranger friend left, he placed Raggedy Ann in his grip.
“It is lonely without Raggedy Ann!” said the dollies each night.
“We miss her happy painted smile and her cheery ways!” they said.
And so the week dragged by. . . . .
But, my! What a chatter there was in the nursery the first night after Raggedy Ann returned. All the dolls were so anxious to hug Raggedy Ann they could scarcely wait until Marcella had left them alone.
When they had squeezed Raggedy Ann almost out of shape and she had smoothed out her yarn hair, patted her apron out and felt her shoe-button eyes to see if they were still there, she said, ‘‘Well, what have you been doing? Tell me all the news!”
“Oh we have just had the usual tea parties and games!” said the tin soldier. “Tell us about yourself, Raggedy dear, we have missed you so much!”
“Yes! Tell us where you have been and what you have done, Raggedy!” all the dolls cried.
But Raggedy Ann just then noticed that one of the penny dolls had a hand missing.
“How did this happen?” she asked as she picked up the doll.
“I fell off the table and lit upon the tin soldier last night when we were playing. But don’t mind a little thing like that, Raggedy Ann,” replied the penny doll. “Tell us of yourself! Have you had a nice time?”
“I shall not tell a thing until your hand is mended!” Raggedy Ann said.
So the Indian ran and brought a bottle of glue. “Where’s the hand?” Raggedy asked.
“In my pocket,” the penny doll answered.
