When I go to tea with the little Smiths, there are eight of them
there, but there’s only one of me,
Which makes it not so easy to have a fancy tea-party as if there were
two or three. 
I had a tea-party on my birthday, but Joe Smith says it can’t have
been a regular one,
Because as to a tea-party with only one teacup and no teapot,
sugar-basin, cream-jug, or slop-basin, he never heard of such
a thing under the sun. 
But it was a very big teacup, and quite full of milk and water, and,
you see,
There wasn’t anybody there who could really drink milk and water except
Towser and me. 
The dolls can only pretend, and then it washes the paint off
their lips,
And what Charles the canary drinks isn’t worth speaking of, for he
takes such very small sips. 
Joe says a kitchen-chair isn’t a table; but it has got four legs and
a top, so it would be if the back wasn’t there;
And that does for Charles to perch on, and I have to put the Prince
of Wales to lean against it, because his legs have no joints
to sit on a chair.

[Illustration]

That’s the small doll.  I call him the Prince of Wales because he’s
the eldest son, you see;
For I’ve taken him for my brother, and he was Mother’s doll before
I was born, so of course he is older than me. 
Towser is my real live brother, but I don’t think he’s as old as the
Prince of Wales;
He’s a perfect darling, though he whisks everything over he comes
near, and I tell him I don’t know what we should do if
we all had tails. 
His hair curls like mine in front, and grows short like a lion behind,
but no one need be frightened, for he’s as good as good;
And as to roaring like a real menagerie lion, or eating people up,
I don’t believe he would if he could. 
He has his tea out of the saucer after I’ve had mine out of the cup;
You see I am sure to leave some for him, but if I let him begin first
he would drink it all up. 
The big doll Godmamma gave me this birthday, and the chair she gave me
the year before. 
(I haven’t many toys, but I take great care of them, and every birthday
I shall have more and more.)
You’ve no idea what a beautiful doll she is, and when I pinch her in
the middle, she can squeak;
It quite frightened Towser, for he didn’t know that any of us but he
and I and Charles were able to speak. 
I’ve taken her for my only sister, for of course I may take anybody
I choose;
I’ve called her Cinderella, because I’m so fond of the story, and
because she’s got real shoes. 
I don’t feel so only now there are so many of us; for, counting
Cinderella there are five,—­
She, and I, and Towser, and Charles, and the Prince of Wales—­and
three of us are really alive;
And four of us can speak, and I’m sure the Prince of Wales is
wonderful for his size;
For his things (at least he’s only got one