"Well, I seem to have a little indigestion," went on the Sawdust Doll.
"I think the carpenter shop sawdust they stuffed into me was not the
same kind that was put in me when I was made in the North Pole shop of
Santa Claus."

"Very likely not," agreed the Horse. "All sawdust is not alike. But
still you are looking rather well."

"I am glad you think so," remarked the Doll. "But now let us talk of
something pleasant. Tell me, again, about the race you had with the
Elephant on his roller skates."

So the White Horse did, but as you know as much of that funny race as
I do, there is no need of putting it in here again.

So the two friends talked together in the hall until, all of a sudden,
the Doll exclaimed:

"Oh, it is getting daylight! We must go back to our places--you to
Dick's room and I to Dorothy's. Quick!"

The White Rocking Horse galloped back down the hall, and the Doll made
her way into the room of the little girl whose birthday present she
was.

Now whether the carpenter shop sawdust was not the right kind to
enable the Doll to move quickly enough, and whether the oil the clerk
had rubbed on the side of the Horse made him a bit slow and slippery,
I cannot say. Anyhow, daylight suddenly broke just as the Doll reached