One day Daddy took Raggedy Ann down to his office and propped her up against some books upon his desk; he wanted to have her where he could see her cheery smile all day, for, as you must surely know, smiles and happiness are truly catching.
Daddy wished to catch a whole lot of Raggedy Ann’s cheeriness and happiness and put all this down on paper, so that those who did not have Raggedy Ann dolls might see just how happy and smiling a rag doll can be.
So Raggedy Ann stayed at Daddy’s studio for three or four days.
She was missed very, very much at home and Marcella really longed for her, but knew that Daddy was borrowing some of Raggedy Ann’s sunshine, so she did not complain.
Raggedy Ann did not complain either, for in addition to the sunny, happy smile she always wore (it was painted on), Raggedy Ann had a candy heart, and of course no one (not even a rag doll) ever complains if they have such happiness about them.
One evening, just as Daddy was finishing his day’s work, a messenger boy came with a package; a nice, soft lumpy package.
Daddy opened the nice, soft lumpy package and found a letter.
Gran’ma had told Daddy, long before this, that at the time Raggedy Ann was made, a neighbor lady had made a boy doll, Raggedy Andy, for her little girl, who always played with Gran’ma.
And when Gran’ma told Daddy this she wondered whatever had become of her little playmate and the boy doll, Raggedy Andy.
After reading the letter, Daddy opened the other package which had been inside the nice, soft, lumpy package and found—Raggedy Andy.
Raggedy Andy had been carefully folded up.
His soft, loppy arms were folded up in front of him and his soft, loppy legs were folded over his soft, loppy arms, and they were held this way by a rubber band.
Raggedy Andy must have wondered why he was being “done up” this way, but it could not have caused him any worry, for in between where his feet came over his face Daddy saw his cheery smile.
After slipping off the rubber band, Daddy smoothed out the wrinkles in Raggedy Andy’s arms and legs.
Then Daddy propped Raggedy Ann and Raggedy Andy up against books on his desk, so that they sat facing each other; Raggedy Ann’s shoe button eyes looking straight into the shoe button eyes of Raggedy Andy.
They could not speak—not right out before a real person—so they just sat there and smiled at each other.
Daddy could not help reaching out his hands and feeling their throats.
Yes! There was a lump in Raggedy Ann’s throat, and there was a lump in Raggedy Andy’s throat. A cotton lump, to be sure, but a lump nevertheless.
“So, Raggedy Ann and Raggedy Andy, that is why you cannot talk, is it?” said Daddy.
“I will go away and let you have your visit to yourselves, although it is good to sit and share your happiness by watching you.”
Daddy then took the rubber band and placed it around Raggedy Ann’s right hand, and around Raggedy Andy’s right hand, so that when he had it fixed properly they sat and held each other’s hands.
Daddy knew they would wish to tell each other all the wonderful things that had happened to them since they had parted more than fifty years before.
So, locking his studio door, Daddy left the two old rag dolls looking into each other’s eyes.
The next morning, when Daddy unlocked his door and looked at his desk, he saw that Raggedy Andy had fallen over so that he lay with his head in the bend of Raggedy Ann’s arm.