with the packs of fire-crackers, and tied one on Wienerwurst's tail.
Then they handed him some bundles of extra-fine punk sticks. It wasn't
at all like ordinary punk, but very sweet-smelling.

He lighted one stick, and it smelled so like incense, and he felt so
drowsy and nice, that he started to fall asleep. The lighted punk fell
lower and lower until it touched one of the fire-cracker-packs. The
silk paper began to curl and grow black, then it burst into flames.
There was a sputter, then a crackle like the firing of many rifles,
and then a great roar. My! but those were powerful fire-crackers. One
pack exploded--and he was blown through the palace. Another--and over
the Peppermint Pagoda he flew. Still another went off, and he was
tossed clean over the Great Wall to the mouth of the hole down which
he had come that very same day.

Then the last pack went--_bang_! and he was blown through the
hole, Wienerwurst after him, up, up, up, past the Coal Giant and the
Furnace Pit, and up, up, up, until he saw, just above him, the little
circle of light again.

Out of it he flew--and--all of a sudden his head cleared, and he saw
he was sitting back at home once more, sitting against the cedar post,
and the Toyman was rubbing his head.

"Never mind," the Toyman was saying, "It'll feel better soon. And how
did you like China?"

The head did feel better "pretty soon." Anyway, he didn't mind it a
bit. It was worth a headache, as the Toyman said, to have seen the
wonderful land of China.