ALICE had never gone to a party before. Of course Rose, who was almost six years old, had gone to a great many. But Alice, who was her newest doll, was very young. She had come, you remember, on Christmas day, at the same time with Buff and Fluff; and the kittens had never yet been to a party either.

Matilda, who was Rose’s old doll, had been to almost as many parties as Rose herself. But Matilda was not invited to this party. Only the youngest and prettiest dolls were invited to this party, for it was to be a May-Party, where every one has to look as beautiful as possible. Poor Matilda had only one eye and a broken nose.

Ernestine, who was Lilian’s doll and who lived in the next block to Rose and Alice, sent out the invitations to ten dolls and their little mammas. They were to come at two o’clock in the afternoon of May Day for a picnic at her house. And every one was to bring a luncheon in a little basket, just as if it were a really truly picnic in the summer woods, instead of a cold city May.

Rose dressed Alice in her prettiest white muslin gown, with a blue sash and the dear little watch which had come in the Christmas stocking. Alice’s yellow hair was curled and tied with a blue bow, and she looked so much like her little mother that Mrs. Thornton could not help laughing when they started for the picnic together. But Rose did not see anything very funny about it. Every one said that she looked like her own mother, and why should not Alice look like Rose?

At the very last moment, when they were starting for the party, Rose ran back upstairs to the play-room, where the old Matilda sat in her little chair by the fireplace.

“You poor dear old thing,” said Rose, hugging her tight, “I never before went to a party without you, and it seems very cruel to leave you all alone. But please remember that I still love you dearly, though you have only one eye, and your nose is broken, and you aren’t pretty like Alice. I can’t take you to parties any more, because people would laugh at you. But you have had a great many good times, haven’t you, Matilda? while Alice hasn’t been yet to a single party. I must make Alice have a good time now, for she is my youngest child. Good-by, Matilda dear, and don’t you be lonesome while we are gone.”

Then Rose kissed the poor old doll and set her back in the little chair beside the fireplace. But Matilda looked very sad when the little mother went out of the door with the new doll in her arms, and it almost looked as if there was a real tear on her faded cheek under the one remaining eye.

When the front door banged behind them, Matilda fell forward onto the carpet and lay there face downwards all the while that Rose and Alice were at the May-Party.

The party was held in Lilian’s dining-room. The floor was covered with a green rug which had flowers on it, and which looked like the real grassy out-doors of the country. In the middle of the room, instead of a dining-table, was a little May-pole, as tall as Rose’s head, with a wreath of flowers at the top and pretty colored ribbons hanging down all around it.

On one side was a throne with three little steps leading up to it, for the May Queen to sit on. And on top of the throne lay a beautiful crown of real flowers for the Queen to wear.

First of all, the dolls were stood up in a long row, so that the prettiest one might be chosen. There was Ernestine herself, the hostess, who was a fat wax doll as big as a real baby, with flaxen hair and four white teeth. Ernestine was very accomplished, for she could say “Papa” and “Mamma,” but she was not nice and huggable and pretty like Alice. (At least, that was what Rose thought.)

Then there was Marjorie, who had black hair, and Helen-Grace-Antoinette, who wore a real satin dress that came from Paris; and Bébé, who was in long clothes and who was thought by all the little mothers, except her own, too babyish for a May-Party. There was Yo-San, who was a lovely Japanese lady; and Toto, a little boy sailor doll, the only gentleman present,—and of course he couldn’t be the May Queen! Then there were Blanche, and Beatrice, and Dinah who was black,—everybody wondered why she came to the party. Last of all, there was Alice. She was smaller than Blanche and Beatrice, but she wore a watch tucked into her sash. No other doll had a watch.

Each little girl wrote on a piece of paper the name of the doll which, next to her own, she thought prettiest. No one could vote for her own doll, for of course each little mother would think her own child the best, and there would have to be ten queens.

Lilian’s mamma counted the votes. And what do you suppose? Alice was elected to be May Queen! It was all on account of the watch. You can imagine how proud Rose was.

They set Alice on the throne and put the crown of real flowers on her yellow curls, and she looked so pretty that Rose had to rush up and kiss her the very first thing. And all the other little girls wanted to kiss her, too.

Then the dolls danced around the May-pole, each one holding the end of one of the colored ribbons, till the pole was twisted all the way down and looked like a big stick of striped candy. The dolls seemed to enjoy it very much, but their mammas were a bit dizzy afterwards.

Then it was time for the picnic. Everybody sat down cross-legged on the green grass rug and opened the little lunch-baskets. First they spread a napkin on the grass, just as one does at a real picnic, and set all the cakes and cookies and sandwiches on it, where every one could reach for herself. And they ate without any plates or knives or forks, which was great fun. But there were no ants to come and eat up the crumbs.

There were little cunning cakes, and figs and dates, grapes and apples, and some molasses candy. And there was lemonade to drink,—just like a grown-up picnic.

After they had eaten everything they played games around the May-pole until it was almost dark, and then it was time to go home. But before they went Ernestine, who gave the party, carried up to the throne a big tissue-paper basket full of flowers, and gave it to the May Queen, kneeling down before Alice on the lowest step of the throne, just as they do in plays. And Rose was so proud that her face turned as pink as one of the roses in the May Queen’s lovely basket. Each doll had a dear little nosegay to take home, but only the Queen had a whole basket full of flowers.

“You dear, lovely Queen Alice!” cried Rose, as she hugged her dollie tight on the way home. “I am so proud of you, and I love you better than anything in the world except Papa and Mamma and Kenneth and Cousin Charlie,—oh, yes, and Matilda. I had almost forgotten poor Matilda.”

Rose was quiet for a minute, and then she whispered to Alice, “Don’t you think you ought to give some of these lovely flowers to poor Matilda, who didn’t go to the party and who isn’t pretty any more?”

Alice was a sweet little doll, and was quite willing to share her flowers. So as soon as the front door was opened Rose ran upstairs to the play-room with the May Queen on one arm and the basket of flowers on the other. There she found poor Matilda lying face downward on the carpet.

“Oh, you poor, poor dollie!” cried Rose. “Did you feel so badly as that? Well, don’t cry any more. Here is your dear little sister, the May Queen, who has come to share her lovely flowers with you. We both love you so much that we are going to make you our Play-Room Queen. See!”

Then she lifted poor Matilda and set her up on the window seat, as if she were on a throne. And she took the beautiful flowers out of Alice’s basket and made a wreath which she placed on the old doll’s scraggly hair. And she pinned a lovely rose on Matilda’s dress.

“Now you look very nice and dear,” said Rose, as she kissed her on her battered cheek. “Good-night, Queen Matilda of the play-room. Isn’t this almost as good as being May Queen?”

And Matilda looked as if she thought it was. She seemed to be smiling with her ugly mouth. And when Rose softly shut the door of the play-room the old doll looked almost pretty,—in spite of her one eye and broken nose,—sitting there on the window seat, with Alice, the beautiful May Queen, at her feet.