did not pay much attention to the other toys in the store. But Mr. Mugg
lost no time in getting to work on the broken toy.

"Heat me the pot of glue, Geraldine," he called to his daughter, "and
get me some paint and varnish. When I mend the broken leg I'll paint
over the splintered place, so it will not show."

The Nodding Donkey was taken to a work bench. Mr. Mugg, wearing a long
apron and a cap, just like the workmen in the shop of Santa Claus, sat
down to begin.

With tiny pieces of wood, put in the broken leg to make it as strong as
the others that were not broken, with hot, sticky glue, and with strands
of silk thread, Mr. Mugg worked on the Nodding Donkey. The toy felt like
braying out as loudly as he could when he felt the hot glue on his leg,
but he was not permitted to do this, since Mr. Mugg was looking at him.
So he had to keep silent, and in the end he felt much better.

"There, I think you will do now," said Mr. Mugg, as he tightly bound
some bandages on the Donkey's leg. "When it gets dry I will paint it
over and it will look as good as new."

The mended Donkey was set aside on a shelf by himself, and not among the
toys that were for sale. All day and all night long he remained there.
He was feeling too upset and in too much pain to be lonesome. All he
wished for was to be better.

In the morning he was almost himself again. Mr. Mugg came, and, finding
the glue hard and dry, took off the bandages. Then with his knife he
scraped away little hard pieces of glue that had dried on the outside,