"Hello! Who are you?" asked the Monkey, looking around, but seeing no
one. By this time he had crossed the green meadow and was near a little
clump of trees.

"I am Jack in the Pulpit," was the answer. "I live on the edge of the
woods. There are big fern leaves here under which you can be safe from
the rain. Hop over!"

So the Monkey hopped through the wet grass until he came close to the
trees in the woods. Then the voice called again:

"Straight ahead now, and you'll see me!"

The Monkey looked, and saw a queer little thin green chap, standing up
in the middle of a sort of brown, striped leaf that curled over his
head, just as in some churches the pulpit curls down over the preacher's
head.

"Who did you say you were?" asked the Monkey.

"I am Jack in the Pulpit," was the answer. "Some folks call me a plant,
and others a flower. They don't know I am really alive, and can come to
life as you toys do. I saw you getting wet, so I called to you. Get
under one of these big, broad fern leaves, and it will keep the rain off
as well as an umbrella."

Jack in the Pulpit nodded toward a big fern leaf near where he himself
was growing, and in an instant the Monkey had crawled under this
shelter. Truly enough it kept off the rain, the drops pattering down on