The wax lady was beautifully dressed, and extended in her stiff lefthand was a card bearing the words:
"RARE BARGIN! This Stylish Costume (Imported from Paris) Former Price, $20, REDUCED TO ONLY $19.98."This impressive announcement had drawn before the window a crowd ofwomen shoppers, who stood looking at the wax lady with criticaleyes.
Tanko-Mankie laughed to himself the low, gurgling little laugh thatalways means mischief. Then he flew close to the wax figure andbreathed twice upon its forehead.
From that instant the dummy began to live, but so dazed andastonished was she at the unexpected sensation that she continued tostand stupidly staring at the women outside and holding out theplacard as before.
The ryl laughed again and flew away. Anyone but Tanko-Mankie wouldhave remained to help the wax lady out of the troubles that weresure to overtake her; but this naughty elf thought it rare fun toturn the inexperienced lady loose in a cold and heartless world andleave her to shift for herself.
Fortunately it was almost six o'clock when the dummy first realizedthat she was alive, and before she had collected her new thoughtsand decided what to do a man came around and drew down all thewindow shades, shutting off the view from the curious shoppers.
Then the clerks and cashiers and floorwalkers and cash girls wenthome and the store was closed for the night, although the sweepersand scrubbers remained to clean the floors for the following day.
The window inhabited by the wax lady was boxed in, like a littleroom, one small door being left at the side for the window-trimmerto creep in and out of. So the scrubbers never noticed that thedummy, when left to herself, dropped the placard to the floor andsat down upon a pile of silks to wonder who she was, where she was,and how she happened to be alive.
For you must consider, dear reader, that in spite of her size andher rich costume, in spite of her pink cheeks and fluffy yellowhair, this lady was very young--no older, in reality, than a babyborn but half an hour. All she knew of the world was contained inthe glimpse she had secured of the busy street facing her window;all she knew of people lay in the actions of the group of womenwhich had stood before her on the other side of the window pane andcriticised the fit of her dress or remarked upon its stylishappearance.
So she had little enough to think about, and her thoughts movedsomewhat slowly; yet one thing she really decided upon, and that wasnot to remain in the window and be insolently stared at by a lot ofwomen who were not nearly so handsome or well dressed as herself.
By the time she reached this important conclusion, it was aftermidnight; but dim lights were burning in the big, deserted store, soshe crept through the door of her window and walked down the longaisles, pausing now and then to look with much curiosity at thewealth of finery confronting her on every side.
When she came to the glass cases filled with trimmed hats sheremembered having seen upon the heads of the women in the streetsimilar creations. So she selected one that suited her fancy andplaced it carefully upon her yellow locks. I won't attempt toexplain what instinct it was that made her glance into a near-bymirror to see if the hat was straight, but this she certainly did.It didn't correspond with her dress very well, but the poor thingwas too young to have much taste in matching colors.
When she reached the glove counter she remembered that gloves werealso worn by the women she had seen. She took a pair from the caseand tried to fit them upon her stiff, wax-coated fingers; but thegloves were too small and ripped in the seams. Then she triedanother pair, and several others, as well; but hours passed beforeshe finally succeeded in getting her hands covered with a pair ofpea-green kids.
Next she selected a parasol from a large and varied assortment inthe rear of the store. Not that she had any idea what it was usedfor; but other ladies carried such things, so she also would haveone.
When she again examined herself critically in the mirror she decidedher outfit was now complete, and to her inexperienced eyes there wasno perceptible difference between her and the women who had stoodoutside the window. Whereupon she tried to leave the store, butfound every door fast locked.
The wax lady was in no hurry. She inherited patience from herprevious existence. Just to be alive and to wear beautiful clotheswas sufficient enjoyment for her at present. So she sat down upon astool and waited quietly until daylight.
When the janitor unlocked the door in the morning the wax lady sweptpast him and walked with stiff but stately strides down the street.The poor fellow was so completely whuckered at seeing the well-knownwax lady leave her window and march away from the store that he fellover in a heap and only saved himself from fainting by striking hisfunny bone against the doorstep. When he recovered his wits she hadturned the corner and disappeared.
The wax lady's immature mind had reasoned that, since she had cometo life, her evident duty was to mix with the world and do whateverother folks did. She could not realize how different she was frompeople of flesh and blood; nor did she know she was the first dummythat had ever lived, or that she owed her unique experience toTanko-Mankie's love of mischief. So ignorance gave her a confidencein herself that she was not justly entitled to.
It was yet early in the day, and the few people she met werehurrying along the streets. Many of them turned into restaurants andeating houses, and following their example the wax lady also enteredone and sat upon a stool before a lunch counter.
"Coffee 'n' rolls!" said a shop girl on the next stool.
"Coffee 'n' rolls!" repeated the dummy, and soon the waiter placedthem before her. Of course she had no appetite, as her constitution,being mostly wood, did not require food; but she watched the shopgirl, and saw her put the coffee to her mouth and drink it.Therefore the wax lady did the same, and the next instant wassurprised to feel the hot liquid trickling out between her woodenribs. The coffee also blistered her wax lips, and so disagreeablewas the experience that she arose and left the restaurant, paying noattention to the demands of the waiter for "20 cents, mum." Not thatshe intended to defraud him, but the poor creature had no idea whathe meant by "20 cents, mum."
As she came out she met the window trimmer at Floman's store. Theman was rather near-sighted, but seeing something familiar in thelady's features he politely raised his hat. The wax lady also raisedher hat, thinking it the proper thing to do, and the man hurriedaway with a horrified face.
Then a woman touched her arm and said:
"Beg pardon, ma'am; but there's a price-mark hanging on your dressbehind."
"Yes, I know," replied the wax lady, stiffly; "it was originally$20, but it's been reduced to $19.98."
The woman looked surprised at such indifference and walked on. Somecarriages were standing at the edge of the sidewalk, and seeing thedummy hesitate a driver approached her and touched his cap.
"Cab, ma'am?" he asked.
"No," said she, misunderstanding him; "I'm wax."
"Oh!" he exclaimed, and looked after her wonderingly.
"Here's yer mornin' paper!" yelled a newsboy.
"Mine, did you say?" she asked.
"Sure! Chronicle, 'Quirer, R'public 'n' 'Spatch! Wot'll ye 'ave?"
"What are they for?" inquired the wax lady, simply.
"W'y, ter read, o' course. All the news, you know."
She shook her head and glanced at a paper.
"It looks all speckled and mixed up," she said. "I'm afraid I can'tread."
"Ever ben to school?" asked the boy, becoming interested.
"No; what's school?" she inquired.
The boy gave her an indignant look.
"Say!" he cried, "ye'r just a dummy, that's wot ye are!" and ranaway to seek a more promising customer.
"I wonder that he means," thought the poor lady. "Am I reallydifferent in some way from all the others? I look like them,certainly; and I try to act like them; yet that boy called me adummy and seemed to think I acted queerly."
This idea worried her a little, but she walked on to the corner,where she noticed a street car stop to let some people on. The waxlady, still determined to do as others did, also boarded the car andsat down quietly in a corner.
After riding a few blocks the conductor approached her and said:
"Fare, please!"
"What's that?" she inquired, innocently.
"Your fare!" said the man, impatiently.
She stared at him stupidly, trying to think what he meant.
"Come, come!" growled the conductor, "either pay up or get off!"
Still she did not understand, and he grabbed her rudely by the armand lifted her to her feet. But when his hand came in contact withthe hard wood of which her arm was made the fellow was filled withsurprise. He stooped down and peered into her face, and, seeing itwas wax instead of flesh, he gave a yell of fear and jumped from thecar, running as if he had seen a ghost.
At this the other passengers also yelled and sprang from the car,fearing a collision; and the motorman, knowing something was wrong,followed suit. The wax lady, seeing the others run, jumped from thecar last of all, and stepped in front of another car coming at fullspeed from the opposite direction.
She heard cries of fear and of warning on all sides, but before sheunderstood her danger she was knocked down and dragged for half ablock.
When the car was brought to a stop a policeman reached down andpulled her from under the wheels. Her dress was badly torn andsoiled. Her left ear was entirely gone, and the left side of herhead was caved in; but she quickly scrambled to her feet and askedfor her hat. This a gentleman had already picked up, and when thepoliceman handed it to her and noticed the great hole in her headand the hollow place it disclosed, the poor fellow trembled sofrightfully that his knees actually knocked together.
"Why--why, ma'am, you're killed!" he gasped.
"What does it mean to be killed?" asked the wax lady.
The policeman shuddered and wiped the perspiration from hisforehead.
"You're it!" he answered, with a groan.
The crowd that had collected were looking upon the lady wonderingly,and a middle-aged gentleman now exclaimed:
"Why, she's wax!"
"Wax!" echoed the policeman.
"Certainly. She's one of those dummies they put in the windows,"declared the middle-aged man.
The people who had collected shouted: "You're right!" "That's whatshe is!" "She's a dummy!"
"Are you?" inquired the policeman, sternly.
The wax lady did not reply. She began to fear she was getting intotrouble, and the staring crowd seemed to embarrass her.
Suddenly a bootblack attempted to solve the problem by saying: "Youguys is all wrong! Can a dummy talk? Can a dummy walk? Can a dummylive?"
"Hush!" murmured the policeman. "Look here!" and he pointed to thehold in the lady's head. The newsboy looked, turned pale andwhistled to keep himself from shivering.
A second policeman now arrived, and after a brief conference it wasdecided to take the strange creature to headquarters. So they calleda hurry-up wagon, and the damaged wax lady was helped inside anddriven to the police station. There the policeman locked her in acell and hastened to tell Inspector Mugg their wonderful story.
Inspector Mugg had just eaten a poor breakfast, and was not in apleasant mood; so he roared and stormed at the unlucky policemen,saying they were themselves dummies to bring such a fairy tale to aman of sense. He also hinted that they had been guilty ofintemperance.
The policemen tried to explain, but Inspector Mugg would not listen;and while they were still disputing in rushed Mr. Floman, the ownerof the department store.
"I want a dozen detectives, at once, inspector!" he cried.
"What for?" demanded Mugg.
"One of the wax ladies has escaped from my store and eloped with a$19.98 costume, a $4.23 hat, a $2.19 parasol and a 76-cent pair ofgloves, and I want her arrested!"
While he paused for breath the inspector glared at him in amazement.
"Is everybody going crazy at the same time?" he inquired,sarcastically. "How could a wax dummy run away?"
"I don't know; but she did. When my janitor opened the door thismorning he saw her run out."
"Why didn't he stop her?" asked Mugg.
"He was too frightened. But she's stolen my property, your honor,and I want her arrested!" declared the storekeeper.
The inspector thought for a moment.
"You wouldn't be able to prosecute her," he said, "for there's nolaw against dummies stealing."
Mr. Floman sighed bitterly.
"Am I to lose that $19.98 costume and the $4.25 hat and--"
"By no means," interrupted Inspector Mugg. "The police of this cityare ever prompt to act in defense of our worthy citizens. We havealready arrested the wax lady, and she is locked up in cell No. 16.You may go there and recover your property, if you wish, but beforeyou prosecute her for stealing you'd better hunt up a law thatapplies to dummies."
"All I want," said Mr. Floman, "is that $19.98 costume and--"
"Come along!" interrupted the policeman. "I'll take you to thecell."
But when they entered No. 16 they found only a lifeless dummy lyingprone upon the floor. Its wax was cracked and blistered, its headwas badly damaged, and the bargain costume was dusty, soiled andmuch bedraggled. For the mischief-loving Tanko-Mankie had flown byand breathed once more upon the poor wax lady, and in that instanther brief life ended.
"It's just as I thought," said Inspector Mugg, leaning back in hischair contentedly. "I knew all the time the thing was a fake. Itseems sometimes as though the whole world would go crazy if therewasn't some level-headed man around to bring 'em to their senses.Dummies are wood an' wax, an' that's all there is of 'em."
"That may be the rule," whispered the policeman to himself, "butthis one were a dummy as lived!"
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