But his head seemed to be all right, and, taking care not to bang
himself again, the Monkey began pushing on the box cover. It was not
heavy, and he slowly raised it until he could look out.

As I have told you in the other books of this series, the Monkey on a
Stick, and the other toys as well, could move about and talk, when they
kept to certain rules. You may find out what those rules were by looking
in the other books.

The Monkey on a Stick looked out from beneath the cover of the box, and
what he saw surprised him almost as much as he had been startled when he
found pasteboard on all sides of him. For the Monkey saw that he was in
the room of a strange house, and not in the big toy department of the
store where he had lived for so long a time.

"I say!" chattered the Monkey to himself, "there is something wrong
here. They must have given me paregoric to make me sleep, and then have
put me in a box and carted me down to some other part of the store. I'm
sure the Calico Clown must have had a hand in this. He and his jokes and
riddles about what makes more noise than a pig under a gate! I'll fix
him when I get out of here!"

The Monkey raised the box cover higher and began to call:

"Hi there, Calico Clown! what do you mean by shutting me up in a
pasteboard box? What's the joke? Come on, Mr. Elephant from Noah's Ark!
Come and help me out! Ho, Jack-Jump! Hi, Jack-Box! Where are you all? I
don't see any of you!"

For, as he looked around the room, from under the cover of the box, the