“I have no idea of going away!” answered the Lamb.  “All I was going to say was that a beautiful little girl came to the toy department to-day with her mother, and she admired me very much—­the little girl did.  She patted my back so softly, and she rubbed my head and she asked her mother to buy me.”

“And did she ?” asked the Calico Clown.

“No, I think not,” replied the Lamb.  “At least, if she did, I was not taken away.  But I wish, oh, how I wish I could get into a nice home, such as the Sawdust Doll has.”

“I trust you will get your wish,” said the Calico Clown.  “And I think we all have the same wish—­that we will have kind boys and girls to own us when we go from here.  But now let us be jolly.  I’ll tell you a funny riddle.”

“Oh, yes, please do!” begged the Lamb.  “I love riddles!”

“Let me see, now,” mused the Calico Clown, softly banging together his cymbals.  “I think I’ll ask you the riddle about the pig.  What makes more noise than a pig under a gate?”

“What kind of gate?” asked the Monkey on a Stick.

“It doesn’t make any difference what kind of gate,” said the Clown.

“I should think it would,” the Monkey stated.  “And while you are about it, why don’t you tell us what kind of pig it is?”

“That doesn’t make any difference either,” said the Clown.  “The riddle is what makes more noise than a pig under a gate.”

“Excuse me, but I should think it would make a great deal of difference,” went on the Monkey.  “A big pig under a small gate would make more noise than a little pig under a big gate.  If we only knew the size of the gate and what kind of pig it was, we might guess the riddle.”

“Hark!  I hear a noise!  Some one is coming!” cried the Bold Tin Soldier, and all the toys became as quiet as mice.

CHAPTER II

THE JOLLY SAILOR

The noise which the toys had heard, and which had made them all stop talking, causing them to become as quiet as mice—­this noise seemed to be coming nearer and nearer.  It was a rolling, rumbling sort of noise.

“Can that be the watchman?” whispered the Calico Clown to the Bold Tin Soldier.

“I hardly think so,” was the answer.  “He tramps along differently, his feet making a noise like the beat of a drum.  This is quite another sound.  But we had better keep still until we see what it is.”

So all the toys kept quiet, and the noise came nearer and nearer and nearer, and then, all of a sudden, there rolled along the floor a toy Elephant on roller skates.

“Hello!  Hello there, my toy friends!” cried the Elephant through his trunk.  “How are you all?  And where is the White Rocking Horse?  I’ll have a race with him.  I tried to the other night, but one of my roller skates jiggled off and then the watchman came and the race could not be run.  Where is the Rocking Horse?”