Not in all Spangleland, nor, for that matter, anywhere else, is there to be found quite such a twilight as that which is spun in the great tent that belongs to the “monkeys, and lions, and tigers and things.”

As you must often have noted, there is among the breezes, a certain one that is extremely partial to animals. It is never happier than when ruffling the forelock of some big dapple-gray; teasing the tail of proud chanticleer; or cradling a gull in its wide-spreading arms. Indeed, it is the very “vagrant breeze” of which, doubtless, you have heard many times. But, wherever its fancy may carry it throughout the hours of the day, it always reaches Spangleland just before the sun dips from view. There it seeks out a hiding place on the edge of the town, to watch and to wait. And, at the first sign of eventide, this knowing breeze slips along near the ground, wriggles under the wall, and so comes inside the menagerie tent.

Once within, it frolics this way and that, but so very slyly that even the keenest-eared of the animals can no more detect it than one might hear a butterfly sing. Yet it is here, there, and everywhere, rubbing its nose against the blue of the poles and its back and its sides against the cages of red. In doing this it takes just a bit of the color of both and so clothes itself in a soft, purple coat. Then, when it departs, it leaves the filmy garment behind, and that, you see, is the twilight.

Now, it was just at the moment when this vagrant breeze had cast off its robe that Dan wound his arms around his knees, gazed thoughtfully across the tops of them and started the story of Gray Ears, the Elephant.

“It all began with the beckoning trees,” he said rather slowly. “You see, they kept calling me. I was never far from them. The one-ring circus of which I was a part was so very small that it never ventured into the cities, but contented itself with visiting the smallest of hamlets and villages. So, as we moved from one to the other, our winding wagon train threaded roads that led through the woods. When we pitched our tent, it was often at the very edge of the trees. And always, ever and always, they beckoned me. At times it was as if their topmost branches were swayed by great puffs of wind. At such moments they would bend toward me and then toss themselves back again, as if saying in pantomime:

“‘Come on, Dan, Dan, Diggeldy Dan; come on and play!’

“And, as often as they called, just that often did I resolve to answer. But, somehow, I seemed never able to find the time. You see, just because it was so very small, the circus needed the help of all of us to put it in place, to give the performances, and then to move on and on. And so I was busy throughout all the day.

“As the summer advanced and the woods grew more green and the shadows more dense, the call came again and again. There were times when I was tempted to let everything go and just skip away to the deep, leafy depths. Now this may seem odd to you—”

“Ah, but it does not,” spoke up Leopard; “I know the feeling.”

“And I,” added Tiger.

“So do we all,” said Lion, a bit wistfully. “Indeed, if it were not for the certain most important reason, I sometimes think we animals might—well, there is no telling what we might do. But, of course, there are the children—”

“Yes, yes, the children,” repeated all the animals, very softly.

“The children, to be sure,” agreed Diggeldy Dan. “I thought of them, too. ‘It is all very well for you to dream of running off to the woods, Dan, Dan, Diggeldy Dan,’ I would say to myself, ‘but what of the children that come to the circus to see the clowns? What, yes, what would they say if there wasn’t any clown? Answer me that, Diggeldy Dan.’ And yet, there came a day when all my reasoning went to the winds.

“It happened on an afternoon when our tent was pitched between the littlest of towns and the greatest of woods. The crowd had come, the band had begun to play, the circus was in full swing. I was in the ring, jesting with the ringmaster and cutting my cleverest capers. But my thoughts were in the depths of the woods. For I could see the green of the trees through the eaves of the tent and the rugged brown trunks through the half-curtained door. And, oh, how they called me! Not even the mirth of the tow-headed boy who sat in the very front row, nor the forget-me-nots on the bonnet of the little girl just behind him could take the tug from my heart.

“Now on this day, as always, there came the moment when I made a face at the ringmaster while he, on his part, let fly with his whip. And, as was the fashion, I pretended great awe of him and dashed from the ring to escape his advance. This bit of acting I had done whole dozens of times, always scampering as far as the door at the rear of the tent and then coming back to my place. But, just as I reached the curtain on this afternoon, the great wind-puffs began! How the hundreds upon hundreds of branches bent forward; and how they swept backward again! They were beckoning me onward, beckoning as never before!

“And so, without so much as turning my head, I bounded on through the door and ran straight for the trees. As I reached the first of them, there came the voice of the ringmaster bidding me return. Soon other voices, voices great and small and deep and shrill, rose in one clear cry:

“‘Come back, Dan! Come back, Diggeldy Dan!’

“But the woods now held me fast in their arms.

“‘On, on, Diggeldy Dan!’ called every leaf.

“‘Stop, stop!’ pleaded every child and, mingling with their voices, I could hear the guttural bass of the ringmaster’s shout.

“How I ran! Deep, deep into the depths of the boundless woods I sped; and deep, deep into the boundless woods came they who gave chase. Peering back over my shoulder, I could see all the children, and all their fathers and mothers and uncles and even their aunts coming pell-mell in pursuit, all led by the ringmaster in his shiny top hat and shiny top boots.

“‘You must not run away, Dan!’ warned a voice from within.

“‘Come away, come away, Dan!’ sang the leaves from the trees.

“And so I pressed on. Indeed, I could not stop. The leaves underfoot seemed in league with those overhead. They pushed against the soles of my feet, sending me forward by leaps and by bounds. But, fast as I ran, those who came after proved even swifter than I. Looking back once again, I could see the ringmaster had redoubled his speed. On he came, the split tails of his coat sticking straight out behind, while, clinging tight to the ends of them were the tow-headed boy and the little girl with the forget-me-not bonnet!

“I was glad they were gaining on me; and yet I was sorry. I wanted them to catch me, and yet I did not. Meanwhile, I ran like the wind. But they came nearer and nearer. Now the ringmaster was so close that I could make out the tiger-eye buttons on his very red vest.

“A hundred paces ahead showed the shadowy outline of a densely leafed thicket. For this cover I sped and, rounding its shoulder, shut my pursuers from view. And then, just as I did so, something came from out the air, swept me square off my toes, swung me outward and aloft and then dropped me into the depths of the thicket!

“As I scrambled to my feet I could hear the clamoring cries and glimpse the hurrying forms of the throng as they swept around the corner of the coppice that covered me. There were children of all ages and sizes, with many curls and many hair-ribbons held out on the lap of the wind. And there were no end of mothers with very bright eyes and very pink cheeks, hand in hand with no end of fathers. And some carried umbrellas which they brandished overhead as they ran.

“But suddenly there came a halt. For a puzzled half-minute the ringmaster stood looking first to the left and next to the right. Then, as if making up his mind that I had gone toward the north, he cut the air with his whip, thrust it forward like a captain leading his troops on to victory, and cried:

“‘Into the deeper woods!’

“Instantly all the fathers pointed aloft in exactly the same manner, and away went the throng, raising more of a cry than before.

“At this I would have recalled them. But no sooner had I opened my mouth to do so than there came a warning ‘S-s-s-sh’ so tremendous that it fairly blew the hat off my head. And, looking to the left and to the right, I saw that I was standing between two great mud-colored posts, roofed in with a chin and the undermost side of a monstrous mouth overhung with a nose that came halfway to the ground!

“‘Not a word out of you,’ warned the mouth.

“‘Swish, swish,’ from side to side went the nose.

“Tighter and tighter squeezed the two ponderous posts!

“And, meanwhile, the voices of those who had left me behind grew fainter and fainter and fainter, until, finally, I could hear them no more.

“‘Now, then,’ said the mouth, as the posts, which were really two legs, drew apart; and the nose, more correctly a trunk, reached back and lifted me to a place in the light, ‘now you may make as much noise as you please.’

“And, looking up, I found myself gazing into the good-humored face of an elephant of marvelous size.”