'There are only two,' whispered Baby Jane fiercely, 'and they are little ones!'
'Then there was a Bear. Well, ha, ha! it called itself a Bear. I thought it was a moth-eaten hearthrug come to life. And as for the Horse, her bones stick out so they catch in the creepers and things, as she goes along, and they have to stop every minute to unhook her. But the Rabbit—he's the one bright spot in that shabby lot, a well set up young fellow, and clever as he is good-looking; yet they say that that Baby Jane slaps him cruelly at times.'
'And will slap him twice as cruelly when she gets him outside,' whispered Baby Jane again.
Baby Jane slaps him cruelly at times.
Here the Leopard made an impatient movement.
'How many are there?' he snarled.
'Oh, say half each for the ladies and gentlemen present,' said the Rabbit, affecting to count off the steady green eyes with his paw; 'and they are just ready for the table!'
'That horse—think of grilled bones, your lordship, a splendid lot of bones for grilling she has! And that Bear, fat as pork. Think of the crackling! But mind that Rabbit. Fried, fricasseed, roast or raw, don't you have nothing to do with him. He lives on cod liver oil and crumpets, and tastes even worse!'
'To-morrow I give a banquet in the plain!' roared the Leopard, and in answer, from the depths of the cavern came a great juicy, 'Thlap, thlap!' of smacking lips.