'Now,' said she, 'I will teach you an easy Highland Schottische step.'
It was simply astounding—the way those creatures picked it up. As for the Lion, for whom she made a little kilt and sporran of palm leaves to make him more real, you could not believe how like a true Scot he looked, and how Scottishly he bounded in the air and snapped his fingers and yapped—you would hear no wilder yap in the Highlands.
Of course the Bear had a mishap. It was through treading on the Crocodile's tail that he came down on a poor little Porcupine who had crept out from a neighbouring cactus thicket and was dancing a little fling all by himself. However, the Porcupine was not really hurt except that he came out quite smooth—all his bristles having stuck in the Bear. But, apart from this, everybody enjoyed it immensely. To be sure, they had to sing the tune themselves, but that added to the fun.
'There's something else just as nice!' cried Baby Jane when they had stopped, breathless, but eager for more. Then, with the Lion, she led off in the Washington Post.
The Washington Post.
Speak not of dancing in a room. What room is large enough when the romping begins? What you want is a good large desert. That is what Baby Jane and her pupils had, and it was grand. The Lion bounced so high that Baby Jane was swung about like a leaf on a bough on a windy day, and had nothing to do but waggle her toes in the air.
Afterwards, all rather tired, the creatures came and Baby Jane arranged them round her, the Lion and the Bear on each side with her arms round their necks, the Piccaninny and the Rabbit at her feet with their little heads on her knees, and the Crocodile round the whole party like a rampart.
'Isn't that better than being cruel, dears, and going about roaring and fighting?' asked Baby Jane.
'Lots!' said the Lion, and the others all grunted approval.