When the janitor unlocked the door in the morning the wax lady swept past him and walked with stiff but stately strides down the street.  The poor fellow was so completely whuckered at seeing the well-known wax lady leave her window and march away from the store that he fell over in a heap and only saved himself from fainting by striking his funny bone against the doorstep.  When he recovered his wits she had turned the corner and disappeared.

The wax lady’s immature mind had reasoned that, since she had come to life, her evident duty was to mix with the world and do whatever other folks did.  She could not realize how different she was from people of flesh and blood; nor did she know she was the first dummy that had ever lived, or that she owed her unique experience to Tanko-Mankie’s love of mischief.  So ignorance gave her a confidence in herself that she was not justly entitled to.

It was yet early in the day, and the few people she met were hurrying along the streets.  Many of them turned into restaurants and eating houses, and following their example the wax lady also entered one and sat upon a stool before a lunch counter.

“Coffee ‘n’ rolls!” said a shop girl on the next stool.

“Coffee ‘n’ rolls!” repeated the dummy, and soon the waiter placed them before her.  Of course she had no appetite, as her constitution, being mostly wood, did not require food; but she watched the shop girl, and saw her put the coffee to her mouth and drink it.  Therefore the wax lady did the same, and the next instant was surprised to feel the hot liquid trickling out between her wooden ribs.  The coffee also blistered her wax lips, and so disagreeable was the experience that she arose and left the restaurant, paying no attention to the demands of the waiter for “20 cents, mum.”  Not that she intended to defraud him, but the poor creature had no idea what he meant by “20 cents, mum.”

As she came out she met the window trimmer at Floman’s store.  The man was rather near-sighted, but seeing something familiar in the lady’s features he politely raised his hat.  The wax lady also raised her hat, thinking it the proper thing to do, and the man hurried away with a horrified face.

Then a woman touched her arm and said: 

“Beg pardon, ma’am; but there’s a price-mark hanging on your dress behind.”

“Yes, I know,” replied the wax lady, stiffly; “it was originally $20, but it’s been reduced to $19.98.”

The woman looked surprised at such indifference and walked on.  Some carriages were standing at the edge of the sidewalk, and seeing the dummy hesitate a driver approached her and touched his cap.

“Cab, ma’am?” he asked.

“No,” said she, misunderstanding him; “I’m wax.”

“Oh!” he exclaimed, and looked after her wonderingly.

“Here’s yer mornin’ paper!” yelled a newsboy.

“Mine, did you say?” she asked.

“Sure!  Chronicle, ’Quirer, R’public ‘n’ ’Spatch!  Wot’ll ye ’ave?”