“No, chorus first! All together now!”
“I’d like to be a Monkey monk
And live up in a tree;
I’d like to be a big Baboon,
An Ape or Chimpanzee!
I’d wear a monkey-jacket and
Eat cocoanuts and candy;
I’d wave the Stars and Stripes and be
A Monkey Doodle Dandy!”
“Next verse!” commanded Dan again.
“Oh, behave,” ordered Tom. “Cut out the comedy.”
“He’s jealous of my beautiful voice,” said Alf. “Oh, look at the pretty pictures. I shan’t go another step until I’ve seen all the pretty pictures.”
So they stopped in front of a board fence which was gaudily adorned with circus posters while Alf feasted his eyes.
“It’s a good idea, you know,” he explained philosophically, “to enjoy the pictures, because they’re fifty times better than the circus. Now, Gerald, there, in his innocence, doubtless expects to see seven elephants doing a cake-walk and balancing themselves on red and blue seesaws, like that. But the fact is that there’ll be just two elephants, one old, old elephant, moth-eaten and decrepit, and one extremely young and frolicsome elephant about the size of a Shetland pony. And the old elephant won’t do much because he’s too aged, and the young elephant will just look on because he’s too young and tender for work. Lies, lies, beautiful lies!”
“Oh, come on,” laughed Dan. “We won’t get any seats if we don’t hustle.”
“Wait, wait until I see the boa-constrictor and the be-oot-shus lady. She thinks he’s a new set of furs. See the way she’s wrapping him around her neck? Someone ought to tell her; it’s a shame. I’ll undeceive her when I arrive, all right, all right. And, oh, the cunning little zebras! Wouldn’t you love to have a cunning little zebra to ride on, Dan? My, oh my! I’d ride to Chapel on it every morning and hitch it to the statue of Apollo outside Room D. And, fellows, fellows! Observe, pray, the marvelous—”