“I should hope not!” said Mr. Rowe, as he gave his fat son the toy.  “And here is twenty-five cents for you, little man,” he added to the ragged boy.

“Oh, thanks!” cried the barefoot lad, as he ran away down the street, the shining silver quarter held tightly in his hand.  Then Arthur and his father went back to their train, the fat boy holding the Plush Bear in his arms.

“Oh, you found him!  I’m so glad!” said Mrs. Rowe, as her husband and son took their seats and the train started.  “You must be careful after this, Arthur.”

“I will,” promised the little boy.

“And I’m going to be careful of my Rag Doll,” said Nettie, as she held her plaything on her lap.

There were no more accidents during the trip to the seashore, which was reached in the afternoon.  Mr. and Mrs. Rowe went to the hotel with their son and daughter, and of course the Plush Bear and the Rag Doll went also.

“Where is this ocean you talked about?” asked the Plush Bear of the Rag Doll when they had a moment alone together.

“Oh, it is outside.  Did you think they kept the ocean in the hotel?” asked the Doll, with a laugh.

“I didn’t know,” the Bear remarked.  “Is this a hotel?”

“Yes; it’s a great big house where the family lives while at the seashore,” the Doll said.  “You’ll like it here.  This is my third summer, and I—­”

But just then the door opened and Arthur and Nettie came running into the room.  Of course the toys could no longer talk to each other.

“We’re going down on the boardwalk in wheeled chairs!” cried Nettie.  “I’m going to take my Rag Doll.”

“And I’ll take my Plush Bear,” said Arthur.  “To-morrow I’ll play with him on the sand.”

“I wonder what all this means—­wheeled chairs—­sand—­boardwalk?” thought the Plush Bear.  “So many things are happening I cannot keep track of them!”

Suddenly he found himself shut up with the two children and the Rag Doll in a sort of iron cage.  And, all of a sudden, it began to go down.

“Goodness! am I falling again?” thought the Plush Bear.

He looked at the Rag Doll, but she did not seem to be startled.  And then he heard Nettie say: 

“Don’t you like to go down in the elevator, Arthur?”

“Yes, it’s lots of fun,” answered the fat boy.

“Oh, it seems I am in an elevator,” thought the Plush Bear.  “Something else new!”

He soon grew used to the motion, and a little later he and Arthur, with Nettie and her Doll, were seated in a big chair on Wheels, and were being pushed along a broad wooden walk by a colored man.

“Isn’t there a big crowd on the boardwalk?” said Arthur to his sister, as they were being wheeled along.

“Yes, but not as large as this time last year,” replied the little girl.  “Look out, Arthur!” she suddenly cried.  “Your Bear is slipping!  If he falls under the wheels he’ll be run over!”