IN WHICH THE PRETTY LADY CARRIES A PASSENGER INTO THE WIDE WIDE WORLD
“Come come, now!” cried Lion, as he hurried about with all the bustle
and importance of the grand marshal of some holiday parade, “into line
with you! No, no; not that way—in two lines. Just as we do when we play
at London Bridge. There! That’s more like it.”
It was on the evening following that which had brought the message from
the Pretty Lady with the Blue-Blue Eyes and the great menagerie tent was
agog with excitement. Under the guidance of Lion all the animals of
Spangleland were placing themselves in a manner befitting the approach
of the expected guest. Thus the greater part of them were arranged in
two long, parallel rows; though there were others who grouped themselves
at the head and the foot of the line. These included Giraffe and his
family who were stationed at the top; Monkey and his folks who stood at
the end of it; and—Diggeldy Dan.
Meantime Lion continued to give instructions, and just as he had
finished there came the sound of a neigh through the twilight, followed
by a silvery laugh of a voice well remembered. Next the canvas wall gave
a billowing bulge and then opened and closed quite like the curtains in
a Punch and Judy theater. And there, standing before them, was the
White-White Horse carrying the one for whom they all waited.
“Why, what an attractive formation!” the Pretty Lady exclaimed, as the
sweep of her blue eyes took in all the groupings. “Is it some new kind
of a game?”
But not a single animal made answer.
“What! No reply?” she went on in surprise. “Can it be the kittens have
gotten your tongues? But no—there must be some other reason: for surely
there is the tip of something quite pink peeping from between Tiger’s
sharp teeth. Yes—now all becomes clear. How stupid of me not to have
noticed before! For look you, my White-White Horse, these are not
sure-enough animals, but just makebelieve ones, all stuffed with straw
and sawdust and things. So come—let us go.” And she made as if to turn
back.
But at this Giraffe gave a vigorous shake of his head.
“Oh—ho!” cried the Lady, “so you actually can move, after all! But why
do you and your family stand at the head of the line?”
In answer Giraffe took a bit of chalk in his mouth and, using Hippo’s
broad back for a board, scrawled, “Reception Committee.” And then
stepping forward, he made an extremely low bow.
“While I am its chairman,” Lion announced.
“Ah, ha! Now I see!” the Lady replied; as she advanced at a prance on
the White-White Horse. “But you?” she inquired, with a nod to the left
and a nod to the right toward those drawn up in two rows.
“We?” they all chorused. “Oh, we are the audience. We—”
“Pretty Lady! Pretty Lady!” called Monkey from his place at the end,
“don’t be talking just to the audience. Please ask us what we are.”
“And what, indeed, may you be?” the Lady laughed back.
“Why, we are the grooms for the White-White Horse,” answered the
merry-eyed fellow as he proceeded to take charge of her mount.
Then, escorted by Lion and Dan—with Giraffe and his folks filing in
close behind—the Lady was led to a gayly striped tub. Once enthroned on
the top of it she again looked about to find all the “audience” in a
halfcircle before her. At the very same moment they gave three ringing
cheers and then took their seats, from which they gazed at their visitor
in rapt expectation.
“Well, well; and now that is over with, What comes next?” asked she,
from her place on the tub.
“Why, a story, of course,” they all cried, quite as if nothing else
could possibly follow. “See, we are waiting for you to begin.”
“But,” protested the Lady, “I’d much rather listen. I’m sure that would
prove whole heaps more fun. Indeed, I insist. So, Lion, suppose you
select the one who’s to tell us the tale.” And she clapped her hands at
the thought of it.
But, alas, Lion could but gaze at his fellows and then back at the Lady
in silent confusion.
“To tell the truth, Pretty Lady,” he finally replied, “none of us know
any very good stories. Only last evening we tried but couldn’t think—not
even of one. Of course, Dan has many wonderful tales; but then he has
been out in the great, wide world.”
“Oh, dear,” broke in Kangaroo in a most wistful tone, “if we could only
do things like Gray Ears and Dan!”
“If we only could!” exclaimed Tiger, “then we, too, would have stories
to tell.”
“Yes,” the Pretty Lady said, nodding her head and speaking very
thoughtfully, “yes, that is true.” And then silence fell on the group. A
moment later, and as if to herself, she added, “Why, why not? Yes, it
could be done. I can arrange to take them and then bring them back.”
“What is it you are saying?” asked Lion.
“Just this,” answered their guest as she leaped to her feet. “I was
wondering how I might help you all to find stories. Now of course the
most natural way is to have you meet with adventure.”
“But where?” asked Zebra.
“Out in the great world, to be sure. Indeed there is no reason at all
why I should not carry one of you off with me this very evening.”
“Oh, let me go! Let me go!” cried Monkey, dancing up and down.
“Be silent, sir,” Lion commanded. “Perhaps, Pretty Lady, you will
propose the one who will be the first to accompany you.”
“But would not the drawing of lots be a much happier way?”
“Draw lots, to be sure!” they all echoed, in answer.
“I’ll attend to the details,” volunteered Diggeldy Dan. And gathering an
armful of sweet-smelling hay, he dashed out of sight behind Giraffe’s
gilded home. Soon he returned with a bundle of straws protruding from
his tightly clasped hands. Now the tops held to view were as evenly
matched as the straws in a very new broom; while the opposite ends were
completely concealed by the cuffs of Dan’s baggy white sleeves.
“Here,” announced he, “are the same number of straws as there are
animals gathered together. But no two straws are of quite the same
length. So—”
“The one drawing the longest of all in the bundle will this very night
go in quest of a story,” finished the Lady with a nod of approval.
“Exactly,” agreed Dan.
“Splendid,” added Lion. And, as President of Animals, he drew the first
one.
“As fast as you draw them, you must file past my seat and lay all the
straws on the top of the tub,” the Pretty Lady instructed. “Thus we will
find who is possessed of the longest.”
So forward they went and, as you may well believe, with no end of eager
wonderment. Meanwhile the Lady added zest to the fun by telling off the
lots as they reached her.
“Your straw is the longest,” she would call as they passed—“No! No!
Here’s one longer—My, what a short one!—Why, who could have drawn
it?—Surely not Elephant!—Now Hippo is favored and Giraffe has been
bested—But just for the moment for now I’ve another that’s quite the
longest drawn yet.”
And so, the Lady comparing all the straws laid before her, the last of
the animals finally moved down the tent and then, doubling back,
returned with all speed to their places. Every straw being drawn, Dan
joined the Lady and the two of them consulted for a moment together.
“Yes, his is the longest—easily the longest,” the animals overheard the
two judges agree; and every ear did its best to catch the sound of a
name. Then, with the longest straw held far aloft, the Pretty Lady
skipped straight to where all the bruins were grouped and touched one on
the head with the tip of her whip.
“Little Black Bear!” rose the cry from all sides. For it was he, you
see, who’d been chosen.
Now for a moment Little Black Bear was so taken back that he could do
naught but wrinkle and unwrinkle the end of his nose. And when he
finally found his voice there was so much commotion that no one heard
what he said.
“Hurry, hurry!” the Pretty Lady was crying, “for we must be well out of
Spangleland before the Petal Watch closes. Lively, now, Monkey, and
bring me my White-White Horse. Come Sir Adventurer, and let Elephant
help you to a seat just behind me.”
“With the greatest of pleasure,” cried Elephant, as he wound his great
trunk around Little Bear’s back and lifted him into his place.
“Hold tight to my waist,” the Lady directed. “All ready, now—”
“Wait, wait!” cried Hippo, “why we are sending Little Black Bear away
without any lunch!”
“Goodness, so we are!” Lion exclaimed. “Be quick, some of you and see
what can be got together.”
At this. word of command all scurried away in every direction and soon
there had been gathered two apples, three carrots, an orange, some
peanuts, and a taffy-on-the-stick. These were hastily placed in an old
paper bag that Dan dug from the depths of his pocket.
“Now at last we are off,” the Pretty Lady declared, as the bundle was
tucked under Black Bear’s free arm. “Farewell till the twilight shall
bring us back once again.” And away through the half-light the three of
them sped.
“A merry journey!” cried some, as they followed the departing ones on
down the tent.
“Be sure to get a good story,” called others.
“I will, I will!” came the answering cry, and with a neigh from the
Horse, a ringing laugh from the Lady and a last paw-wave from Little
Black Bear, the three travelers passed through a rift in the wall and
were swallowed by the gathering dusk.
“And now,” called out Dan, “it is high time that we, too, were fast
disappearing. So away every one of you and, until we gather once more,
there’s a treat in the thought of what a story’s in store.”