But he soon noticed that this ride was not as smooth as had been the one from North Pole Land to the Earth.  Instead of riding in a sleigh drawn by reindeer, the Nodding Donkey was riding on an automobile truck, and as it went out in the street it bumped and rattled along.

There was so much noise and confusion, and it was so warm and cosy in the box where he was packed, that, before he knew it, the Nodding Donkey had fallen asleep.  And, as he slept, the Nodding Donkey dreamed.

He dreamed that he was back in the workshop of Santa Claus at the North Pole and on a shelf with other toys.  Suddenly a Wooden Soldier began beating on the Donkey’s back with the end of a gun.

“Rub-a-dub-dub!” drummed the Soldier, and the Donkey’s head nodded so hard that he feared it would be shaken off.

“Stop!  Stop!” cried the Donkey in his dream, and then he suddenly awakened.  He heard a hammering, but it was not on his back.  It was outside the case in which he was packed, and he soon noticed that some one was knocking off the boards that formed the cover.

With a wrench and a squeak one of the cover boards was raised, letting in a flood of light.  The Nodding Donkey blinked his eyes, coming out of the darkness into the glare of the light.  Then he felt himself being lifted up and set on a shelf.  At the same time he heard a pleasant voice saying: 

“Here is the case of new toys, Daughters.  And see, one of the very newest is a Nodding Donkey!  I’m sure he will please some little boy or girl!”

The Nodding Donkey looked around him.  He was on a shelf in the jolliest toy store he had ever imagined.  It was almost as nice as the workshop of Santa Claus.  Standing in front of the shelf was a white-haired old man and two ladies, one on either side of him.  The three were looking at the Nodding Donkey, who bowed his head at them as if saying: 

“How do you do?  I am very glad to meet you!”

CHAPTER IV

THE CHINA CAT

The Nodding Donkey stood straight and stiff on his four legs, with his shiny, new coat of varnish—­the one he had received in the workshop of Santa Claus at the North Pole.  The Donkey wished he might move about and talk with some of the other toys he saw all around him, but he dared not, as the old gentleman and the two ladies were standing in front of him and looking straight at the toy.  All the Donkey dared do was to nod his head, for, being made on purpose to do that, it was perfectly proper for him to do so, just as the Jumping Jack jumped, or some of the funny Clowns banged together their brass cymbals.

“Isn’t he the dearest Donkey you ever saw, Angelina?” said one of the ladies to the other.

“He certainly is, Geraldine,” was the answer.  “But something seems to be the matter with his head.  It is loose!”