"No, no! I'd rather smooth that little animal," said she, pointing to the chinchilla. "It looks like a sister of my little muff."
"O, Gay! you are a funny baby," said Trixie, laughing, and speaking as though she, herself, were quite an elderly person.
"Do you want to see the kangaroo do the high running jump?" Tom asked. But the kangaroo refused to jump for them. Mr. Barnum then told them how, like the opossum, the mother carries her babies snugly tucked in her pocket.
"We haven't seen any bears yet," said Trixie.
"No, but you shall see them, Toodles," said Mr. Barnum. "Who ever heard of a menagerie without its bears? And here they are!"
Up on their hind legs they stood, waiting a minute till the music began, and then, at the first note of the fiddle, off they went—slowly at first, then faster and faster, until really they were almost graceful! Even the baby bears danced! But a grey old grizzly sat gossiping with a polar bear in a corner, while they too watched the dancing, like old ladies at a ball. Afterward, at a sign from the master, the same old grizzly took the fiddle himself, and played for the young people's dancing. Then the bears marched up and down, singly and in pairs, "cooling off," Tom said.
Trixie heard a lady say to her friend, "The camels are coming!" and then they both laughed, but Trixie could not see why. Sure enough, the camels were coming, and racing camels are even more awkward than dancing bears.