One night he had made his mother roll him about, till she fell asleep,
and even then he kept crying, "Roll me around! roll me around!" His
mother pushed him about in her sleep, until she fell too soundly
aslumbering; then she stopped. But Little Jack Rollaround kept on
crying, "Roll around! roll around!"

By and by the Moon peeped in at the window. He saw a funny sight:
Little Jack Rollaround was lying in his trundle-bed, and he had put up
one little fat leg for a mast, and fastened the corner of his wee shirt
to it for a sail, and he was blowing at it with all his might, and
saying, "Roll around! roll around!" Slowly, slowly, the little
trundle-bed boat began to move; it sailed along the floor and up the
wall and across the ceiling and down again!

"More! more!" cried Little Jack Rollaround; and the little boat sailed
faster up the wall, across the ceiling, down the wall, and over the
floor. The Moon laughed at the sight; but when Little Jack Rollaround
saw the Moon, he called out, "Open the door, old Moon! I want to roll
through the town, so that the people can see me!"

The Moon could not open the door, but he shone in through the keyhole,
in a broad band. And Little Jack Rollaround sailed his trundle-bed
boat up the beam, through the keyhole, and into the street.

"Make a light, old Moon," he said; "I want the people to see me!"

So the good Moon made a light and went along with him, and the little
trundle-bed boat went sailing down the streets into the main street of
the village. They rolled past the town hall and the schoolhouse and
the church; but nobody saw little Jack Rollaround, because everybody
was in bed, asleep.

"Why don't the people come to see me?" he shouted.

High up on the church steeple, the Weather-vane answered, "It is no
time for people to be in the streets; decent folk are in their beds."

"Then I'll go to the woods, so that the animals may see me," said
Little Jack. "Come along, old Moon, and make a light!"

The good Moon went along and made a light, and they came to the forest.
"Roll! roll!" cried the little boy; and the trundle-bed went trundling
among the trees in the great wood, scaring up the chipmunks and
startling the little leaves on the trees. The poor old Moon began to
have a bad time of it, for the tree-trunks got in his way so that he
could not go so fast as the bed, and every time he got behind, the
little boy called, "Hurry up, old Moon, I want the beasts to s