“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.”