RAGGEDY ANN
STORIES
Written & Illustrated by
JOHNNY GRUELLE
New York London Toronto Sydney
PREFACE AND DEDICATION
As I write this, I have before me on my desk, propped up against thetelephone, an old rag doll. Dear old Raggedy Ann!
The same Raggedy Ann with which my mother played when a child.
There she sits, a trifle loppy and loose-jointed, looking me squarely inthe face in a straightforward, honest manner, a twinkle where hershoe-button eyes reflect the electric light.
Evidently Raggedy has been to a "tea party" today, for her face iscovered with chocolate.
She smiles happily and continuously.
True, she has been nibbled by mice, who have made nests out of the softcotton with which she has been stuffed, but Raggedy smiled just asbroadly when the mice nibbled at her, for her smile is painted on.
What adventures you must have had, Raggedy!
What joy and happiness you have brought into this world!
And no matter what treatment you have received, how patient you havebeen!
What lessons of kindness and fortitude you might teach could you buttalk; you with your wisdom of fifty-nine years. No wonder Rag Dolls arethe best beloved! You are so kindly, so patient, so lovable.
The more you become torn, tattered and loose-jointed, Rag Dolls, themore you are loved by children.
Who knows but that Fairyland is filled with old, lovable RagDolls—soft, loppy Rag Dolls who ride through all the wonders ofFairyland in the crook of dimpled arms, snuggling close to childishbreasts within which beat hearts filled with eternal sunshine.
So, to the millions of children and grown-ups who have loved a Rag Doll,I dedicate these stories of Raggedy Ann.
INTRODUCTION
Marcella liked to play up in the attic at Grandma's quaint old house,'way out in the country, for there were so many old forgotten things tofind up there.
One day when Marcella was up in the attic and had played with the oldspinning wheel until she had grown tired of it, she curled up on an oldhorse-hair sofa to rest.
"I wonder what is in that barrel, 'way back in the corner?" she thought,as she jumped from the sofa and climbed over two dusty trunks to thebarrel standing back under the eaves.
It was quite dark back there, so when Marcella had pulled a large bundleof things from the barrel she took them over to the dormer window whereshe could see better. There was a funny little bonnet with long whiteribbons. Marcella put it on.
In an old leather bag she found a number of tin-t