Then the Slambangaree took one of the boxwood tops from Reginald's pocket, and tossed it in the air a few times, and then threw it against the ceiling. Instead of descending, it remained on the ceiling, where it spun at a great rate, and, instead of humming, repeated the multiplication table so fast that it would finish twelve times in about four seconds. Then it got spinning so fast that it set all the room and the furniture whirling at the same rate. As the Slambangaree whirled with the rest, its grin increased until its head seemed to be all grin. Finally the Slambangaree grew smaller and smaller, until it was so small that it vanished into the top, which still whirled away at an awful rate. And when Reginald thought he was rid of his goblin visitor, the top suddenly began to increase in size until it was as large as a barrel, when it suddenly burst, and out popped the Slambangaree, leading a curious monster, the like of which Reginald had never seen or dreamed of. Its mouth opened like a door, and its eyes slid up and down like windows. And it had two heads, one at each end. And it could move with equal grace and swiftness in either direction. It ran all over the room, and what seemed strangest of all was that the room grew larger to accommodate the antics of the monster. Occasionally it would raise one eye like a window-sash, and curious birds would fly forth, and, after fluttering around, fly to the other end of the monster, who would throw open an eye to admit them. As the Slambangaree deposited the boxwood top in Reginald's pocket, it pointed to the monster, and said, "That thing is a Cariftywhifty." "What can a Cariftywhifty do?" asked Reginald. "What can a Cariftywhifty do?" repeated the Slambangaree. "Why, a Cariftywhifty can eat you, and that is what this Cariftywhifty is about to do."