“And no wonder! My spring is broken, and I can’t put my head out to see you, either,” the voice went on. “But I can look at you through a crack.” “A crack in what?” asked the Sawdust Doll. “A crack in my box,” was the reply. “Well, go on,” said the Sawdust Doll, after a moment of silence. “I’m Jack-in-the-Box,” the voice continued. “I used to live in a toy store, and I was bought last Christmas for the boy who lives in this house. But after he had played with me awhile, watching me jump out of my box every time the lid was lifted, my spring broke. I couldn’t jump any more then, and the boy grew tired of me. So I was put away on this shelf. Goodness, how lonesome I’ve been! I’m glad you came to keep me company. How long are you going to stay?” “I don’t know,” answered the Sawdust Doll. “I hope your spring isn’t broken, and that you are not put here because you aren’t of any more use as a toy,” said Jack-in-the-Box. “No, I haven’t any springs,” answered the Doll. “I’m full of sawdust.” “That’s better than having a spring inside you,” said Jack. “You can’t break sawdust.” “No, but you can spill it,” the Doll went on. “And that’s what I’m always afraid of, that some day there’ll be an accident and all my sawdust will run out.” “Oh, let us hope not!” exclaimed Jack. “But, really, I’m glad you have come. I was dreadfully lonesome here! Tell me about yourself. Tell me about your adventures.” “I haven’t had many yet,” the Sawdust Doll replied. “We used to have fun playing party in the store after all the real folks were gone. But I’d like to hear about you. Having your spring broken must be a very wonderful adventure indeed.” “Yes, it’s wonderful, all right,” sighed Jack. “But it isn’t much fun. If my spring were not broken I could look out now from the top of my box and see you and talk to you much better. As it is, I have to whisper through the crack.” “It isn’t much fun talking through a crack,” agreed the Sawdust Doll. “But tell me about your spring.” So Jack told how one day the boy pushed him into the box too hard, and slammed the cover down so quickly that there was a snip and a snap, and poor Jack’s spring broke. Never after that could he jump out of his box with a squeak whenever the lid was lifted. “And now I want to hear about you,” said Jack. So the Sawdust Doll told about her friends in the store, and how the Bold Tin Soldier had driven the rat back to his hole. For some little time the Jack-in-the-Box and the Sawdust Doll remained on the closet shelf, talking together in the make-believe language of toys--a language no real persons ever hear, any more than they can see the toys at play. Then, the next day, the closet door suddenly opened, and a flood of light came in. “Ha! I think they’ve come for you,” whispered Jack. “Maybe it’s for you,” the Doll answered.