“Now stay standing on your head for ten minutes, Frisko. It will be good practice for you. Don’t get down! Stay right as you are. Now then, second class in fast running!” and the circus man took a lot of ponies over to one side of the barn to have them practice for the races.
And all the while, Frisko, the new elephant, had to stand on his head. The Professor took George, the bear, off to one side of the circus barn to teach his pet a new trick, and as Beckie had to wash and dress her rubber doll, Neddie was left with nothing to do. So he walked over and watched the new elephant learning the trick of standing on his head.
“Do you like it?” asked Neddie, the bear boy, of the elephant.
“Oh, yes, I don’t mind,” said the big creature. “Oh, dear!” he suddenly cried. “Oh, me! Oh, my!” and a big tear, about as large as a cup of water, came in each of the elephant’s eyes.
“Why, what is the matter?” asked Neddie kindly.
“Oh, my back itches me something terrible!” said Frisko, the elephant, “and I daren’t get down from standing on my head to scratch it. Oh, dear!”
Now, if there is one thing worse than another it is to have an itchy place where you can’t scratch it. Neddie knew this as well as anybody. It’s as bad as wanting to sneeze when some one scares you out of it, and really that’s the very worst thing that can happen.
“Oh, my!” went on the elephant, and he wiggled about, and tried to scratch the itchy place on his back, but he couldn’t, and he didn’t dare get down from standing on his head, for fear the circus man would be angry at him, and oh! such a lot of trouble as he had.
But Neddie thought of a plan.
“How would you like to have me scratch your back for you Frisko?” asked the little bear boy. “I won’t dig my claws in very deep. Shall I scratch you?”