“Why,” answered Dan, “there’s monkeys, and lions, and tigers and things, and—”
“Quite so,” the Lady broke in. “It, then, is the tent that we want. Now listen to me with both your funny white ears and with all your two twinkling eyes. For this is the message from Too-Bo-Tan, to all the animals of Spangleland: Beginning on the morrow and on every day ever after, there is to come a wee little hour in the twilight when all the monkeys, and lions, and tigers, and things are to be let out of their cages, allowed to dance and to play and do as they will.”
“But, oh, Pretty Lady, that will not do at all,” burst in Diggeldy Dan. “Their cages are locked, there’s no hour to spare, and—and maybe they’d eat folks up!”
But for answer the Lady only laughed—the laugh that was so like the tinkle bells.
“Have no fear, Diggeldy Dan. All that has been thought out by far wiser heads than yours. You see, it was this way: Ever so long ago, Too-Bo-Tan—who is the very biggest monkey in all the world—called a meeting of all the animals in far-away Jungleland. And, when they had gathered on the highest peak of the mountains, where Too-Bo holds his wonderful court, Too-Bo rose and made this very solemn speech:
“‘It was, as many of you know, the very dearest wish of my honored father, Vargu, that the day might come when something could be done to make easier the lot of our fellow animals who have so nobly sacrificed their freedom and consented to spend their lives in red and golden cages, that the children may have their circus days. Of late, I have had my learned counselors go into this matter very thoroughly, and they have found, but yesterday, written on the face of a great stone in the depths of a certain cave in a certain mountain, this remarkable decree:
“‘“On the day when Diggeldy Dan has been a clown for a hundred years and a day, as a reward for the great joy that he has given little children through all his merry life, he will be granted the privilege of releasing all animals from their cages at every setting of the sun.”
“‘And so,’ continued Too-Bo-Tan, looking out from under his bushy eyebrows, ‘this meeting of all the animals has been called that we may discover just who this Diggeldy Dan may be, where he is, and, most important of all, whether he has yet been a clown for a hundred years and a day.’”
“But,” interrupted Dan, as the Pretty Lady reached this point in her story, “I’ve been right here with the circus for ever and ever and ever so long.”
“Of course, you have,” agreed the Lady, “but, you see, Too-Bo-Tan had been so busy with other matters that he didn’t know that you had. But I knew. For I am the Fairy of the Circus—the one who watches over all the riders and all the clowns and all the people of the big and little tents—the one who knows just what each one of them does every single day. And so, when Too-Bo had finished speaking, I jumped to my feet and said that I could find you in no time at all. Then we waited until the hour should come when you had been a clown for a hundred years and a day. And, when it came, I at once called for my White-White Horse and, as you know, came to you through the skies as you slept.