"What's a zebra?" asked the Pen, who had never been to the circus, as Jimmieboy had, and who was therefore, of course, ignorant about some things of very great importance. "Is it a piece of furniture?"
"The idea!" laughed Jimmieboy. "Of course not. It's a sort of a small animal like a horse, and has—"
"Oh, I know," interrupted the Pen. "Here's one." Then he dipped his head lightly into the water, and wiggled himself about on the pad for a minute. "There," he said, "How's that for a zebra?"
ZEBRA.
Jimmieboy laughed long and loud. "What on earth are those wiggle-waggles all over him?" he asked.
"Those are the Zees," explained the Quill. "Isn't that right?"
"No!" roared Jimmieboy. "He hasn't a Z to his name."
"Oh yes, he has," replied the Quill. "I know that much, anyhow. I have written many a zebra, though I never drew one before. They always begin with a Z, and end with a bray—like a donkey."
"I don't mean it that way. I mean he hasn't any Zees printed on him," explained Jimmieboy. "He's striped like the American flag."