Now, it was just at the moment when this vagrant breeze had cast off its robe that Dan wound his arms around his knees, gazed thoughtfully across the tops of them and started the story of Gray Ears, the Elephant.
“It all began with the beckoning trees,” he said rather slowly. “You see, they kept calling me. I was never far from them. The one-ring circus of which I was a part was so very small that it never ventured into the cities, but contented itself with visiting the smallest of hamlets and villages. So, as we moved from one to the other, our winding wagon train threaded roads that led through the woods. When we pitched our tent, it was often at the very edge of the trees. And always, ever and always, they beckoned me. At times it was as if their topmost branches were swayed by great puffs of wind. At such moments they would bend toward me and then toss themselves back again, as if saying in pantomime:
“‘Come on, Dan, Dan, Diggeldy Dan; come on and play!’
“And, as often as they called, just that often did I resolve to answer. But, somehow, I seemed never able to find the time. You see, just because it was so very small, the circus needed the help of all of us to put it in place, to give the performances, and then to move on and on. And so I was busy throughout all the day.
“As the summer advanced and the woods grew more green and the shadows more dense, the call came again and again. There were times when I was tempted to let everything go and just skip away to the deep, leafy depths. Now this may seem odd to you—”
“Ah, but it does not,” spoke up Leopard; “I know the feeling.”
“And I,” added Tiger.
“So do we all,” said Lion, a bit wistfully. “Indeed, if it were not for the certain most important reason, I sometimes think we animals might—well, there is no telling what we might do. But, of course, there are the children—”
“Yes, yes, the children,” repeated all the animals, very softly.
“The children, to be sure,” agreed Diggeldy Dan. “I thought of them, too. ‘It is all very well for you to dream of running off to the woods, Dan, Dan, Diggeldy Dan,’ I would say to myself, ‘but what of the children that come to the circus to see the clowns? What, yes, what would they say if there wasn’t any clown? Answer me that, Diggeldy Dan.’ And yet, there came a day when all my reasoning went to the winds.