My pretty doll

My Pretty Doll

When I was a little girl, I had a new doll. Its face was pretty, its eyes were pretty, its dress was pretty, too. My doll could open and close its eyes and say Ma-ma.

I did not play with my doll. I was afraid to break it. The doll was in a box, and the box was in the wardrobe in my mother’s room. When I wanted to see my new doll, my mother took the box out of the wardrobe and showed it to me. I looked at it for some time, and then my mother put it in the box again.

My little sister had a doll, too. Her doll was not new, and it was not pretty. It was old and dirty. It had only one eye, and it had no hair. Its dress was not pretty. My little sister liked her doll very much. She took it to the garden and to the yard. She put it on the floor and on the grass. And when she went to bed, she took her doll with her.

One morning my mother was in the kitchen. She wanted to make breakfast for the family, and she asked me:
-“Mary! Do you know where your little sister is?”
-“No, I don’t,” I said.
-“Then go and look for her,” said my mother. “Breakfast is ready.”

I went to look for my little sister. I looked in the yard. She was not there. I looked in the shed. She was not there. I looked in the garden. She was not there. Then I came back into the house.
Suddenly I heard a noise in my mother’s room. I opened the door and looked in.
The wardrobe was open, and my doll’s box was on the floor. It was open, too, but the doll was not there. Then I saw my naughty little sister with my doll in her hands.
-“Put the doll into the box,” I said.
-“No, I don’t want to,” said my little sister.
-“It’s my doll! Give it to me!” I said.
But my naughty little sister did not want to give me my doll. I wanted to take the doll away from her. I pulled, and she pulled, too. And the

doll fell to the floor. I picked it up and looked at it. Its pretty face was broken.
I took my doll in my hands, and it did not say Ma-ma. I began to cry, and my naughty little – sister began to cry, too.

Our mother came into the room.
-“Don’t cry. We shall take the doll to the dolls’ doctor, and he will make it well again,” she said.
And do you know what my mother did?
She took my doll to the dolls’ doctor, and she took my little sister’s doll to the dolls’ doctor, too.

One day our mother came home and gave us our dolls.
My doll had a pretty face and hair. It could open and close its eyes and say Ma-ma.
My little sister’s doll was pretty, too. It had a pretty nose and pretty eyes and hair, and it could say Ma-ma. Its dress was pretty, too.

But my naughty little sister did not like her new doll. She did not take it to the yard or to the garden. She did not put it on the floor or on the grass. She put it into a box and did not take it out again.

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My pretty doll