Chunky did not forget his tricks, though soon after he went to live in the menagerie he became too heavy to stand on three legs and raise the other. And he could hardly roll over when the keeper told him to.
But Chunky could still do his trick of catching a loaf of bread in his mouth, and he could open his jaws as wide as ever, and the children who came to the park to see the animals never were tired of watching the keeper make Chunky do his two best tricks.
One day when Chunky was in the dry part of his cage, at the end where there was no water tank, he saw a small animal run in between the heavy iron bars—that is, an animal much smaller than he was, but almost as large as Dido, the dancing bear, it seemed to Chunky.
“Ho! who are you that dares come into my cage without asking me?” inquired Chunky, though he did not speak crossly. “Do you belong to the park menagerie? If you do, you must have gotten out of your cage.”
“No, I don’t belong here,” answered the small animal. “I am Don; and I am a dog. Once I was a runaway dog, but I am not any more. I’ve had lots of adventures, and a book has been written about me.”
“My!” grunted Chunky. “It seems also every animal I meet has had a book written about him or her. Well, Don, I am glad to see you.”
“Have you had any adventures?” asked Don, with a friendly bark.
“Oh, yes, many of them,” answered Chunky. “If you want to lie down on that pile of hay, I’ll tell you about them.”
So Don lay down on the pile of hay in the cage, and Chunky told some of his jungle adventures. And, though the happy hippo did not know it, he was soon to have an adventure with Don.