'Shall I tell you some of my adventures this time?' I was charmed with the idea, and privately proud, for it proved what real friends we were that she should so confide in me.
What follows is my free version of her account, which I can only hope is not quite spoiled in the re-telling.
CHAPTER I
THE DANCING CLASS
Ever since she had been a baby—a good long while, for she was more than eight years old—it had always troubled the heart of Baby Jane to hear, and later on to read, how rough and rude and wretched the wild beasts and niggers of the African desert were.
The black children always came down to breakfast without their pinafores on, and ate with their fingers, and never washed—though, perhaps, that did not matter, as they had to be black anyhow—and were altogether naughty and, therefore, very miserable.
And the wild beasts did nothing but kill and eat until the sand was strewn with poor white bones that had once belonged to little bounding gazelles, and missionaries, and gentle, spotted giraffes, and monkeys. At night the big ones had no cosy stables, and the little ones no basket with a rug in it; so they wandered about in the cold woods and roared and went on eating things.
And all this unhappiness was because there was no one to teach them and look after them. Poor creatures! If only they knew of all the fun there was to be had—dancing and games and the rest—they would no longer spend their time so miserably.