King of the Dollhouse

By Patricia Clapp

A tiny scurrying noise! Then . . . something races out of a shadowy corner of Ellie's room, gallops up to the dollhouse, and stops short. "Whoa," calls the smallest sort of voice, and suddenly there is the Queen, gallant and beautiful, on mouseback.

Ellie's mom is busy writing a book, so Ellie figures she'll have to use her imagination to entertain herself for a while. Then, alone in her room, from inside the elaborate dollhouse she hasn't played with in some time, she hears a tiny, exasperated voice.

Could it be?

One thing's for certain: Ellie's world just got a lot bigger . . . or is it smaller?

 

This faithful new edition of Patricia Clapp's beloved 1974 classic with the original illustrations by Judith Gwyn Brown is certain to charm new audiences with its sharp and independent main character and themes of powerful women and magical personal adventure.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brain Mill Press
• Release date: Sep 6, 2022
• ISBN: 9781948559645

Patricia Clapp

Patricia Clapp was born in Boston and attended the Columbia University School of Journalism. Her first novel, Constance: A Story of Early Plymouth, was a runner-up for the 1969 National Book Award for Children's Literature. Her other books include, I'm Deborah Sampson, King of the Dollhouse, Dr. Elizabeth, and Jane-Emily. She describes herself as primarily "a theatre person"; she has worked with her community theatre for over forty years and still writes and directs plays for children. The grandmother of ten and great-grandmother of one, Ms. Clapp lives in Upper Montclair, New Jersey.

Book preview

h, drat!" said the tiniest voice in the world.

In the hushed softness of the summer night, Ellie could just hear the sound, which seemed to come from somewhere beside her bed.

"Oh, double drat! Where is that light?"

Ellie’s eyes opened suddenly, and she lay very still, listening. There was a small bumping noise, and then the tiny voice said, Ow! Oh, that wretched girl! She’s been changing the furniture around again! OW! My knee!

Not at all sure whether she was awake or dreaming, Ellie rolled over just as one of the little lamps in her dollhouse was turned on. She almost fell out of bed with surprise.

Well, at last! said the tiny voice. That’s better!

What’s better? Ellie whispered.

Oh. Are you awake? said the tiny voice. The light is better, of course. How can I read the paper if I can’t find the light?

I don’t know, said Ellie.

Nor I, said the tiny voice. "If you must change the furniture around you might at least leave the light on. I thwacked my knee against the desk. Very hard!"

I’m sorry, Ellie whispered. Slowly she hung the top half of herself out of bed, propped her hands on the floor, trying to see into the dollhouse living room. Then, in surprise, she flopped out of bed completely and landed hard on the fuzzy rug.

Goodness! said the tiny voice. You sound like an earthquake!

In the little blue velvet wingchair sat a very small man with a fat stomach, reading the dollhouse newspaper. He was about six inches high. He wore a gold crown, red and white striped breeches, little red slippers, and a long red velvet cape. After a moment he looked up.

Good evening, he said.

Ellie rubbed her eyes very hard to be sure she wasn’t asleep. Who are you? she asked.

King Borra Borra, said the little man.

Oh, said Ellie. Then she added politely, My name is Ellie.

How do you do, said the little man. Indicating the newspaper with one very small finger, he went on, You wouldn’t, by any chance, have a more recent paper, would you? I must have read this one at least a dozen times.

I only have one, said Ellie, and that’s it.

What a pity! Although I admit it’s better than the last place I lived. That dollhouse had nothing to read except books that didn’t really open. Very difficult to improve one’s mind by reading books that don’t open.

There was a silence while King Borra Borra went on reading the newspaper, and Ellie went on staring at him. Presently King Borra Borra glanced at her, over the paper.

We appreciate your bowing to royalty, he said, but you may rise now.

If I rise I won’t be able to see you.

Poor eyesight?

Certainly not! But you are very small.

You’re very big, said King Borra Borra.

Not really. I’m just right for my age.

And I am just right for my size.

There was another small silence. Where did you come from? Ellie asked.

The little man gave an infinitesimal sigh, and laid the newspaper down on the table next to the blue velvet wingchair.

It’s really almost impossible to read the paper with you chattering all the time, he said. He got up, scratched his little