"Shall I now?" asked Peter.
"Yes, now."
So Peter pushed the flatiron. But Polly had not been right. The string was too long. It reached to the floor.
Down went the flatiron, bang! It landed on the edge of Peter's boot. It landed on the edge of Peter's toe, too. It hurt him, but not much. And the tooth did not come out.
"Oh! Oh!" cried Peter. "It hurt my foot, it hurt my foot! It didn't pull out my tooth at all." And he started to jump up and down.
The very first jump surprised him. Something pulled at his mouth and then seemed to let go.
It was the string around his tooth. He had jumped up far enough to pull the tooth out himself.
How Polly did laugh when she saw this!
Peter cried, "It's out, it's out! We have found a new way! I found it!" And he got down on the floor to pick up his tooth.