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A Man of Clay

 
This poor soul has looked till his eyes stand out
And listened till his ears are immense;
And though his mouth has grown large from talking much,
He says never a word of sense.
 
 
For his brain is so muddled, he never can think,
Whate’er he may see, hear, or say,
He was not made to understand,
He is only a man of clay.
 

The Corn Husk Lady

Through the mail one day the little Wests received a box bearing a Nebraska post mark. On opening it they saw the queerest doll imaginable, all neatly packed in crushed tissue paper.

This was a lady doll made entirely of corn husks and corn silk. The silk was for hair, of course, and very real looking hair it made. A bunch of the thinner, softer husks had been tied together for the head and body; a flat piece was laid over the place where the face was to be, and a string drawn tightly around it about an inch from the top making a very neat, shapely head and neck. Water color paints were used to make the clear blue eyes, rosy cheeks, and other features. Curly brown corn silk was next fastened on for hair, and two rather stiff rolls of husks served for arms.

Then the lady was dressed in the most elaborate garments. She wore a gathered waist, large sleeves, and a very full skirt. On her head was a bonnet, wonderful to behold. Like her gown and parasol, it, too, was made entirely of corn husks.

A letter that came with the doll said that it had been made by a little crippled girl living on a Nebraska farm and who had made the husk dolls for amusement at first, but that since she had learned to make them so well many of her dolls had been sold. What she had begun for mere pleasure was now a source of profit to her.

The letter said, also, that in making her dolls this little girl always soaked the husks to soften them and to keep them from tearing while the dolls were being made.

In looking about for a name for the new visitor the children decided upon “Cornelia” as the name best suited to one of her nature and general makeup.

When Papa was asked to suggest a last name for the young lady from Nebraska he said he thought “Shucks” would probably be as appropriate as any other, so Cornelia Shucks she was called.

On the very day the young lady arrived the children hunted up some nice clean corn husks and put them to soak in warm water. There were thin white pieces which came next to the corn, and butter colored strips, and deep brown ones—variety enough for any doll’s wardrobe. After an hour or two of soaking, the husks were taken from the water and wiped as dry as possible and then they were ready.

After much examination of the fair Cornelia’s form and style of dress the little Wests were able to make quite respectable looking husk dolls. Of course, the first ones were a trifle clumsy, but after a while these children were able to make and dress lady dolls as fine as Cornelia Shucks herself.

The Corn Cob Baby

THE corn cob doll is a hardy little thing, able to endure the hardest usage.

It has no features, to speak of, and a dreadfully pock-marked face—yet no play baby is dearer to the heart of its owner than the corn cob baby.

Baby Bunnie gave her corn cob child a little more style than such babies usually have, by wrapping it about as babies are sometimes wrapped in foreign countries.

Red cobs were made into Indian babies, and bound into bark cradles, and hung up in the trees, like real papooses.

Apple Jack

FROM the Orchard came Apple Jack, a most agreeable gentleman.

Lady Hollyhock was not the only person who was proud to receive him. Everybody liked him, not alone for his engaging smile and pleasant manner but because of his goodness.

Then he could always be depended upon to stand by his friends, and the advice he gave was always of the best.

But we will let him tell his own story.

APPLE JACK’S STORY

 
Apple Jack is the name I bear
And it suits me well, I ween;
My home was once in an apple tree
Among the leaves so green.
 
 
My head and body were separate then
With never a stick between.
Though both are now of the richest red,
When young, like the leaves they were green.
 
 
Each part of me swung on a separate bough
The whole long summer through—
My color was changed by the sun’s warm rays
I was washed by the rain and the dew.
 
 
When the autumn came I had a great fall
Which was the making of me,
For a boy chanced that way and took me up
And made me the man you see.
 
 
Though I never can do any work for this friend
Who helped me to be what I am,
I’ll stand by him through trouble and joy
And always prove loyal and calm.
 
 
If he should choose to take me in
I would cause him never an ache,
For, since he was the making of me,
I’d go down for friendship’s sake.
 
 
As long as on the earth I stay
I will try to give him joy,
With a beaming smile upon my face
I will always greet this boy.
 
 
The world looks so funny through apple-seed eyes,
To laugh is all I can do;
And when I go, “Greet your friends with a smile”
Is the message I leave to you.
 

The Peanut Man

THE Peanut Chinese man was made of eight peanuts—one for the head, one for the body, one for each arm and two for each leg. All had double kernels, except the one forming the head.

These peanuts were fastened together by heavy thread. The needle was run crosswise through the end of one nut; then through the end of the nut joining it, and the thread tied in a hard knot.

The face was drawn with a pen and ink. The back of the head and bottoms of the feet were solidly inked for hair and shoes and the cue was of braided black silk thread, sewed to the top of the head. Over the place where the cue was fastened, a disk of stiff paper was glued for a hat.

When crinkled tissue paper was gathered around the neck and arms to form a loose jacket and around the legs for wide trousers, the Peanut Chinese man was complete.

The Peanut Chinese Woman

THE Peanut Chinese woman was not dressed like a real Chinese woman. Living in America, she was beginning to like skirt-like gowns better than the baggy trousers of her own people. Her sleeves, too, had just a little of the American look.

But when it came to dressing her hair the real Chinese style suited her best. The heavy black silky loops were caught up and held in place by long pins such as she had used in her native land.

Her garments, like those of the Peanut Chinese man, were of crinkled tissue paper, though the little Wests pretended they were of silk.

They wanted these dolls to have silk clothing like real Chinese people, but as they did not have the goods, they just imagined that the paper was silk and were happy in the make-believe.

The Acorn Family

IN the autumn when the acorns began to fall the children found no end of amusement in making them up into all sorts of people and animals.

Some were converted into soldiers—Japanese, with blue kimonos and Russians with long fur overcoats—and often they were lined up for battle. Ruthlessly the children shot them down with bean shooters. Since their sympathies were with the Japs, of course the Russians suffered most, yet there were losses on both sides.

While the brown of the acorns suggested Japs and Filipenos, it was equally suggestive of our own negro people, so numbers of these were made with their blue checked gowns and red bandanas.

Then there were just ordinary acorn men and women, with acorn heads on toothpick necks, and bodies of twisted paper.

One attractive pair was dressed in corn-colored crinkled tissue paper. A round disk of the paper was pasted to the top of the head of each for the brim of a hat, and the cup of the acorn pasted over that for a crown. No prettier doll hats could be imagined.

The shoes these little people wore were of ink.

Everything the acorn family had was made, like themselves, of acorns. Their cups and saucers, their plates, their baskets, their tops, and their pigs, even, were of acorns.

Tom enjoyed the tops most. These were made by running slender toothpicks, or shoepegs, about halfway through the acorns which spun on their own points. Games were often played with these tops.

When any one wanted to know which army would be victorious in battle two tops were set spinning on a plate and each named for an opposing army. The one falling over first was defeated, of course. Sometimes one spun itself off the plate. That meant a retreat.

Disks of bright colored paper were often placed above the top on the toothpick or shoepeg. When red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and violet were used and all the tops set spinning at the same time, this meant that a rainbow had gone to pieces and each color was doing its best to get back into its proper place.