“Oh, yes, the mouse!” chorused the audience breathlessly. “What about the mouse?”
Cinnamon Stick said no word, but pointed a long thin finger toward the clock.
The clock struck one (which was really half-past five), the mouse ran down, and the chain clinkety clanked as he hopped to the floor and ran away to his hole, and was seen no more.
His disappearance seemed a signal, and at once was heard a joyful chorus. As the dolls sang they formed a procession, and two by two marched back to the clock and wound their way about the spiral columns.
The Pie Crust was at the head and settled down in the pan, its cover upheld as by an invisible hand. The dolls jumped into their places, the cover was slowly dropping, when suddenly up popped the head of the Vinegar Cruet.
“The Gifts!” he cried. “You forgot the Gifts!”
At that up popped every other head, crying in chorus:
“The Gifts! The Gifts! You forgot the Gifts!”
“No, I didn’t forget. They are on the way.”