Dorothy kept very quiet, and the little brown men did not seem to notice her at all. After a while they danced away and were soon out of sight.
No sooner had the little men disappeared than Dorothy heard a great noise, and almost immediately a baby elephant came running up to her. He stared at Dorothy and began crying “boo-ho-o-oo!” in a most heart-rending manner. Dorothy sat on the ground, and tucking her night-dress under her toes, said: “What are you crying for?”
“I’ve lost my mamma,” cried the elephant louder than ever.
“You’re a big baby,” said Dorothy scornfully.
“What do you mean?” roared the elephant in a very angry voice.
“I mean you’re the largest baby I’ve ever seen,” answered Dorothy, smiling.
“Say what you mean,” said the elephant gruffly. Dorothy did not like to see anybody crying, not even a baby elephant, so she tried to talk to him.
“Excuse me,” said Dorothy, “but haven’t I seen you before—at the circus, you know.” She regretted the words as soon as spoken, because the elephant set up such a terrible roar and cried louder than ever.
“You never saw me at the circus,” he cried between sobs and boo-hoos, “it was my brother.”
“Well, never mind,” replied Dorothy cheerfully; “all babies, I mean elephants, look alike to me.”