He had only gone half a mile before he met Big Elephant.
“Elephant,” he roared; “whose writing is this?”
Big Elephant put on his glasses and picked up the piece of bark and looked at it very carefully.
“Sometimes,” he said, “I write in my sleep. You know, I used to write visiting cards with my feet, and since I stand up when I am asleep maybe I write a little without knowing it. I don’t remember this.”
“You are a foolish, old elephant,” roared Yellow Lion, and he bounded away so angrily that he could hardly see. He almost ran into Striped Tiger.
“Pardon me,” said Yellow Lion, for he had a great respect for Striped Tiger.
“Don’t mention it,” answered Striped Tiger, showing his white teeth. “What is this I hear about your mane?”
“Name,” replied Yellow Lion.
“O, well, it’s much the same,” purred Striped Tiger. “The same letters. You come with me and I’ll show you something that will make you feel very glad.”