The Adventures of Diggeldy Dan

“At first my captor merely appealed to me as the merriest-eyed elephant I had ever seen—and surely the largest. But I soon discovered that he had a way of going about matters in a most business-like manner. Thus he immediately began to plan for the two of us.

“‘Now, then,’ said he, ‘we will leave this rather public place and go to my private apartment. So if you will just hop to the top of my third toe—yes, the right foot will do—and place your arm about my knee—ah! that is the way—we will proceed.’

“And so, I clinging tightly to the big fellow’s leg—a great deal as children sometimes do when they are very small and father’s foot is to be persuaded to give them a ride—we started on our way, the whole of me moving quite like a walking stick when it accompanies its master on a leisurely stroll through the park. On through thicket, grove and tangled foliage we went, and then, quite of a moment, passed between two giant trees which formed the natural doorway leading into a half-inclosed room of the woods. I call it a room because it possessed the entrance just mentioned, a floor entirely free from undergrowth, a raggedy west window outlined with boughs, and a wide-spreading roof fashioned by a gigantic vine.

“Two logs with branches broken off near the trunks, a flat-topped stump of considerable size, and a curious hanging basket affair formed by a lacing of vine loops completed the furnishings. On the floor was a pile of freshly plucked leaves.

“‘You will really have to forgive the appearance of things,’ apologized my host. ‘You see I was at lunch when I heard the shouts and so jumped right up from the table and made my way to the thicket. Besides, I moved in only last night. Nothing fancy, I’ll admit; but comfortable. I was rather taken with the rustic furniture—so in keeping with a place of this kind, don’t you think? But do sit down!’

“And, motioning me to accept one of the logs while he took the other, the big fellow swung one foot into the basket-like contrivance of which I have spoken, leaned back in an attitude of perfect contentment and rumbled something about ‘his idea of solid comfort.’ Then, noting that my eye was upon the queer-looking swing that supported his foot, he added:

“‘Ah, I see you are interested in this little invention of mine. A combination hammock and provider, if you please. Hammock for the reason you already see; provider because—’

“And at that he set the foot that lay in the loops of the vine to pumping so hard that the whole of the roof began to rock as if shaken by some mighty wind. Scores upon scores of leaves soon carpeted the floor. These the ponderous fellow swept together with the tip of his trunk without so much as leaving his seat, and then added them to the half-eaten pile I had noticed.

“‘A rather clever idea, I should say,’ said he, with some show of pride, ‘that is, if one doesn’t mind eating the shingles off one’s own house. Of course, you see the point: roof, shingles—leaves. Ha! Ha! I thought you would.’ And with that he laughed as though he had made quite the best joke in all the world. But in another moment, he had dropped into silence only to break it again to inquire my name.

“‘Diggeldy Dan,’ I replied. ‘And yours?’

“‘Gray Ears, the Elephant,’ he answered as his look suddenly changed to one of great soberness. ‘Not just Gray Ears, mind you, nor yet merely Elephant, but “Gray Ears, the Elephant.” In fact, it is what one might call a whole sentence of a name. However, aside from the fact that it does not well lend itself to being nicknamed, I cannot say much for it. For, in the first place—just as there are two sides to every story so are there to every ear. And the under side of an elephant’s ear is ofttimes a rare pink and frequently as speckled as the nether part of a trout. As for the phrase, “the Elephant,” it is absolutely and positively silly. For, to look at me, you would not suppose me a bumblebee, nor yet a bobolink, now would you? Still, such is my name and I make the most of it. But, to change the tune of our talk, tell me: Whence have you come and why did you run away from the circus?’

“Answering, I told him my story and ended by adding that had he not prevented I should have shouted most lustily and so called back those who, doubtless, were still in pursuit of me.

“‘For,’ said I, ‘it was quite wrong of me to have run away in the first place.’

“‘Yes, in a way,’ assented Gray Ears, ‘but, on the other hand, I am sure the children, the grown-ups, and even the ringmaster will enjoy their lark in the woods even though they return without you. Thus no inconvenience has come to them, you will go back to your place in the late evening and, in the meantime, perform a most charitable act by lending me your merry company for a few hours. For, to be perfectly frank, I, too, am a runaway and a rather lonesome one.’

“‘You don’t mean that you are’—I began with some excitement.

“‘A circus elephant,’ finished Gray Ears. ‘None other than the mightiest and most marvelous of all pachyderms and easily the leading feature of the mammoth menagerie of the Very Biggest Circus.’

“And he voiced these mile-long words with so much impressiveness that had he worn a waistcoat I am sure he would have thrust his thumb-toes into the armholes of it.

“Here was an adventure! A meeting with one who came from the great, great circus of which I, who had ever been with the smallest, had heard and dreamed of, yet never seen!

“‘But, in the woods—you—I don’t understand—’ I puzzled.

“‘My dear fellow,’ returned Gray Ears as he waved in the direction of the very tallest trees, ‘do you suppose that you are the only one who feels the call? Besides, I had been told that a specially interesting variety of the pistache de terre was to be found in this part of the woods. So I laid my plans and, While we were at the railroad yards? last night awaiting our turn to go into our cars, I walked softly away along the shadowy places, kept to the back streets of the town and so finally reached the open country. But as to the earth-nut that is said to be found hereabouts, a whole morning’s search has failed to discover even a single vine.

“‘You see,’ he continued, with a great show of-vanity, ‘I have the largest collection of the pistache de terre in existence.’ And spreading his toes apart, two at a time, and burrowing into the openings with the tip of his trunk, he began to take something from each. And then, what do you suppose he finally laid in a heap on the top of the tree stump?”

“What?” cried all the animals in excited chorus.

“Peanuts!” answered Diggeldy Dan. “Just ordinary, everyday, circus peanuts. And after all those long words, too! At least, that was What they looked like to me. And so, never thinking, I blurted, ‘Oh, peanuts!’ (no doubt with a look of disappointment, for I had expected something quite wonderful) and then added, ‘No thank you; I don’t believe I care for any just now. But don’t let that keep you from having some.’

“‘Having some!’ repeated my companion, as if unable to believe his ears, large as they were. ‘Having some!’ he fairly shouted again in horrified tones. And then, looking at me in the most pitying manner he added, ‘Why, Friend Clown, do you not suppose there are elephants who look upon the peanut as something more than a thing to be eaten? That there are those of us who study them?—for what happier hobby could a circus elephant have than that which calls for the collecting of this most excellent nut!

“‘Consider this one, for instance,’ continued Gray Ears, as he held one of the peanuts up to the light. ‘That is the true goober. See with what a delicate sweep it curves in at the waist line. Here, on the other hand, is a quite different nut—the pindar that comes from the islands. A sailor brought it to the circus one day. To you, and to him, it is merely a peanut. But to the trained eye there is a warm, yellow tint in its wrinkled face and a certain sweep to its curves that place it far from its various cousins. So, during my travels, thousands upon thousands of nuts have passed under my eyes and, from them, I have made this collection of exactly seventeen different ones.’

“And so he passed from one peanut to another, pointing out the beauties of each,” went on Diggeldy Dan, “and was just explaining that the word peanut was unknown to the children of some lands, while ‘monkey-nut’ served for a name instead, when, suddenly stopping short and gathering his brows into three immensely deep puckers, he fixed his attention upon something away toward the west.

“Following his gaze, I saw a bloodred blotch that fairly flamed far off through the trees.

“‘Fire!’ we both cried, as if in one breath; and then Gray Ears began to laugh at the thought.

“‘Fire nothing!’ said he. ‘It’s the sun making ready for bed.’

“‘Goodness me, so it is!’ I exclaimed. ‘I had no idea it was so late. I hope you will not think me rude, but, really I must go at once.’

“‘Of course you must,’ the big fellow agreed, as he led the way from the room. ‘I fear I have delayed you too long as it is. But never doubt, I’ll have you back at the edge of the littlest town in but a little while more than no time at all. Come—on to my third toe! Hold fast—there! We’re off!’

“And with his trunk rolled into position while I clung with both arms to his leg, Gray Ears started forward with such amazing strides that, had I not been standing on one of his feet, I would surely have thought that he had suddenly been shod with seven-league boots. Away we crashed, making straight for the heart of the sunset. Onward we—”

“Hey, Dan! Dan! The Petal Watch! The Petal Watch!” cried Monkey.

“Closing, sure enough,” rejoined Diggeldy Dan and a minute later he was skipping away down the menagerie tent, calling a good night to his friends and assuring them he would be back on the morrow and tell them still more of the tale.