Jimmieboy was now quite lost. He had no idea as to his whereabouts. The garden had long since disappeared, and so fast had he run the boy had failed to notice in what direction he had come.
"Humph!" he said, seating himself by the road to catch his breath. "Here's a muddle. I wonder where the Merboy is?"
"Here I am," came a subdued little voice that sounded miles away. "Take the first door to your right, open it, and you'll find me."
Jimmieboy started up and walked, it seemed to him, for hours, but no door appeared anywhere until, just as the sun was setting, he came to a big oak-tree with a little bit of a door half-way up its trunk.
"I wonder if that's it?" said the puzzled boy, scratching his head.
"Yes," came the voice from the inside. "Climb up and come in."
"I can't climb 'way up there," said Jimmieboy.
"Then we'll let the door down," returned the voice behind the door. Sure enough down came the door. Jimmieboy opened it and walked in, and there was the Merboy only he had become a goldfish in the aquarium in the nursery again, and was swimming around as unconcernedly as if nothing had ever happened.
"Wasn't it queer?" said Jimmieboy, as he told the story to his father.
"Very," said his father, "but queer things often happen to boys who eat as much fruit cake as you do."