“I wish that confounded hypnotism had never been invented!” I cried; but for all that I was not able to break the spell. The princess kept on crying bitterly, and begging me to desist. I heard her speak, but what she said had no effect upon me. What did I care for a princess, while I enjoyed the sight of that dear jumping-jack? I knew that if I did not control myself I would have to remain in this situation and be tortured to death at the appointed hour; but what was that to me? I cared for nothing else but for the sight of that monkey in whom all my affections were centred. I thought of the princess with entire indifference. Oh, how I loved that jumping-jack! It was as dear to me as if it had been my own self. I could not think of anything but of that jumping-jack, and I involuntarily hummed the song in which my situation was so well portrayed by the words of a well-known poet:-- “Willie had a purple monkey Climbing on a yellow stick.” It never occurred to me to lick off the paint. I knew nothing more. I was asleep, with the jumping-jack in my arms. [Illustration: HYPNOTIZED BY A MONKEY] IV. AMONG THE GNOMES. While I was sleeping I experienced a horrible dream. The jumping-jack before me assumed the features of a baboon, having a great resemblance to Professor Cracker, and besides this there were two grotesque figures standing at the foot of the pole. One was wooden nut-cracker with goggle eyes, a long nose and protruding chin, the very image of Jeremiah Stiffbone; and the other a curiously shaped whisky-jug of stoneware, having the form and features of Mr Scalawag; and while the monkey was moving up and down on the pole, the nut-cracker and the whisky-jug danced, and all three sang the following song: Huzza and hey-day! Up and down we go; There being nothing that we do not know. We prove that black is white and white is black, And all the world admires the jumping-jack. And as we jump go jumping all the rest; Who jumps the highest knows his business best. Forward and backward on the beaten track: There’s nothing greater than a jumping-jack. And to our stick we cling from first to last; Who asks for more is only a fantast. Thus up and down we go, upward and back: This is the glory of a jumping-jack. After they finished singing, the nut-cracker sniffed the air with his nose and turned his goggle eyes in the direction where I was hidden, after which his jaws began to move, and he said: “I am smelling human flesh. There is some one present.” To this the whisky-jug replied, while grinning from ear to ear: “Who knows but it may be Mr Schneider, or his ghost.” “Mr Schneider has no ghost,” said the baboon. “If we were to find one, we would have to destroy it immediately, to save the reputation of science.” “I am quite sure that something of that kind is hidden somewhere,” replied the nut-cracker, and turning to the baboon, he asked: “Do you see anything?”