"Oh!" said the Mask, "this is getting dangerous; there is a dreadful cavity under me; but I'll put a bold face on it. There goes another apple." Peter heard apple follow apple out of the hole in the heel, till the whole dozen were on the floor, where they still went rolling off after each other toward the staircase when they hopped thumpty-thump down the steps, till the last one had gone. Meanwhile the Sled, the Tin Trumpet and the Monkey-Jack were having a sad time in the foot of the stocking. "I cannot hold on much longer," said the Sled, and it had hardly spoken the words, before it slid out through the toe, and Peter heard it go sliding over the floor and follow the apples down the staircase. Matters were no better, but rather worse in the leg of the stocking. A weak voice was heard in the corner. It was a Peanut complaining bitterly of the Marbles. "If ye had not come in here among us," it said, "we should have done very well, but now ye are pushing us all toward the hole." The Marbles could not reply, they were too frightened themselves; they had crowded in among the Peanuts for safety, and now there was danger of both going. One large Marble alone held them all back; it was wedged in by the Monkey-Jack, and the Monkey-Jack had its stick in the Tin Trumpet's mouth. But the Tin Trumpet had only caught by a single thread of the stocking; that gave way, and down came the Trumpet followed by the Monkey-Jack. The Trumpet rolled off toward the door like the rest, and the Monkey-Jack went head-over-heels after it. Of course the large Marble had no help for it now; he dropped out of the heel, and the rest of the Marbles came tumbling after with the Peanuts in the midst of them. The Marbles and Peanuts, unlike the rest, rolled off toward Two Eyes; the Marbles disappeared through one eye, the Peanuts through the other. It seemed of no avail now for the rest to keep their place. "It is no use to keep up appearances longer," said the Mask, and he dropped out and walked off on his nose. The Skates who had not spoken before, now turned to the Muffler and said: "We shall cut a pretty figure going through the hole like the rest, we may not go after all; there's many a slip--" but before they had finished the sentence they had followed the rest, and were striking out for the door. Nothing now remained but the Muffler and the Candy. The Muffler spoke in a thick voice, "I am a sort of relation to the stocking and intend to remain by it, if it is a poor relation. It won't turn me out of doors, surely." The Candy, replied in a sweet voice, "As for me, I shall stick to the stocking. My dear Muffler, you quite melt me, you are so warm and affectionate." After this point, Peter could see or hear nothing further, and for a very good reason--Kleiner Traum had vanished with his kaleidoscope. IV. Kleiner Traum Visits David Morgridge. [Illustration]