r eyes; you can't do any good
by crying, and I don't like seeing tears," said her friend.

"Never mind; I rather like feeling sad," Molly answered politely, though
tearfully.

"Still, a little sadness goes a long way," remarked the Marionette.
"There is no doubt of that. I think I had better tell you something to
amuse you now." She thought a moment and then she laughed.

"What are you laughing at?" asked the little girl with curiosity.

"At the remembrance of the Hansom-driver," she answered. "I never can
think of him without laughing. Shall I tell you his story? I shall have
time to do so this evening, for it is short, like the one I have just
finished." And she began the story of: "The Hansom-driver."

THE HANSOM DRIVER

The Hansom-driver was indeed very plain, but he fancied himself very
beautiful. 'Tis thus that we are liable to make errors of judgment;
especially respecting ourselves.

His cheeks were crimson and his nose was the same hue, yet he was quite
convinced that all the young lady dolls envied him his complexion. His
eyes were dull as lead, but in his boundless conceit he always compared
them to sparkling diamonds.

In a word, his appearance was terribly against him, yet his constant
complaint was that he attracted so much attention, and won so much
admiration wherever he went, that he could almost find it in his heart
to wish he had been born ugly.

His own looks were his constant topic of conversation, till at length
the other Toys quaked when he opened his mouth, knowing very well how
they were going to suffer.

Amongst those who suffered the most from his talk were the Butcher, the
Baker, and the Clown. They lived at the opposite side of the counter,
where he drove every morning to give his orders for bread and meat. He
never thought of driving away at once when he had done this, but always
stopped to make remarks upon his own appearance; till at length, in
common with the rest of the world, they became wearied to death of the
subject. The Butcher and Baker tried to put a stop to it by making
uncivil remarks, and the clown by making rude jests. But the conceit of
the Hansom-driver still remained.

One day when he was talking to his three acquaintances, the Butcher
happened to remark on the beauty of the sunset-glow the previous
evening.

"Some people," said the Hansom-driver at once, "admire the beautiful
glow of the sunset sky, some the beautiful glow of the healthy
countenanc