Winter nights around the fire he makes wonderful toys for them.

His knife is like a fairy's wand. With it he whittles boats for Jehosophat,
kites for Marmaduke, and dolls for Hepzebiah. He paints them pretty colours
too. So I think they gave him the right sort of nickname when they called
him "the Toyman."

He hasn't many clothes and no house of his own and no relatives of any
sort. He isn't exactly a handsome man. But the three happy children love
the Toyman very much.

Yesterday he sat by the edge of the pond. On one side sat Jehosophat,
Marmaduke, and big Rover. On the other side sat Hepzebiah, Brownie, and
little yellow Wienerwurst.

They were all looking down at the water of the pond. It was very clear.

"Keep still, Wienerwurst," said the Toyman, "or you will scare the fishes."

They were swimming through the waters. Near the banks were little baby
fishes, hundreds of them, called minnows. They had a nickname too,
"minnies." Out farther, once in a while, the children saw a fish shining
like gold. It was a sunfish or "sunny" as they sometimes called it. And the
Toyman told them all about these fishes and the perch, too, and the long
pickerel and the wicked carp, who hunts the other fish and kills them.

Then all at once the Toyman put his hands in his pockets. Mother Green says
his pockets are like ten-cent stores. They are so full of all sorts of
things.