"No, childer dear; I 'd better just go ahead. I will confess it was timid of me not to go in the first place. It was thinking of my old skin I was, and I should be ashamed of myself. Sure, there 's no disgrace in asking for fair play, and you 've been sorely tried. I 'll go."
"No, no, no!" wailed the animals.
"No, your own plan was wise," the elephant insisted. "If anything happened to you, what would become of us?"
"Yes, what would become of us?" the little ones wailed.
"Do you honestly think my own plan's wiser? You 're not saying that to save me from trouble?"
"We're not," the lion said. And "Of course not," added the tiger.
"Just slip in a word when you can," from the elephant.
"Honestly, now, it would be best." The angel was relieved. "I can talk about your loyalty; and, sure, I can remind him of the kine that gave shelter to the Wee Relative in Bethlehem, and the donkey that was proud to carry His weight; and I 'll remind Him, too, that I 've never asked a favor yet, and if He could just see His way—"
"Well," the elephant thought aloud, "I 've got to be getting back to Burma."
"I 'm going your way," said the tiger.