  By this time All the Beasts were so HUNGRY that they sat round the tree and cried. You see there was no one else who had a boat. “What shall we do?” they wailed and howled and buzzed and grunted and groaned and sobbed and lamented, each in his own most PARTICULAR voice. Then Tommy Tortoise, who had been lying asleep in the sun, opened one eye, and said, “What is all this fuss about? Haven’t you found out the name of this tree YET?” They said they had not and cried harder than ever. “YOU!” snarled Tabby Tiger. “You! You!” grunted Bruno Bear. “You!” snapped Katy Crocodile, biting her word off short. “You-u-u-u!” trumpeted Elizabeth Elephant. “You! You! You!” chattered Mimi Monkey. You never heard such a noise—not even at the circus—as there was when they all said this, each in his own PARTICULAR voice. “Yes, me—I mean I,” said Tommy Tortoise in his little, thin voice. Then he crawled slowly home, trailing one foot after the other, as some boys do on their way to school. He found his mother knitting stockings and rocking the baby. “Hssh!” said Mrs. Tortoise. “He’s just dropping off.” “Tommy,” said Mrs. Tortoise, “do you remember how you used to go to school with all the other little tortoises and learn things?” “Yes,” said Tommy.
He said the Nines table because anybody can say the Tens, and he wasn’t sure about the Elevens. “Hsh!” said Mrs. Tortoise. “That will do. You will wake the Baby.” “But I will tell you how to remember.” She whispered in his ear. Then she said, “Now, Tommy, whatever happens to you, mind your manners. Remember to bow to King Leo and to speak to him so politely that he will know you have been well brought up.” “Yes, Mother,” said Tommy Tortoise. MRS. TORTOISE GIVES ADVICE Then he put on his cap with the red tassel, and he went down to the river. He had no boat; so he had to swim. All the day and all the day he swam When he was tired swimming, he would turn over on his shell and float with all his legs kicking in the water, just as the Baby kicks in his bath. When Tommy Tortoise reached King Leo’s home, King Leo was NOT curled up comfortably wearing his crown and ready to receive visitors. He was standing on the river bank waving his tail. His big head was waggling this way and that way, and he was not smiling AT ALL. Before Tommy could speak a word, or even make his best bow, King Leo said: “R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R! S-s-cat! S-scamper! S-scat! S-skedaddle!
that the name of the tree is bojabi. R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R!” “Bojabi,” whispers Tommy Tortoise to himself, and jumps—ker-lump—into the river again. “I WILL NOT TELL YOU” SINGING ON THE RIVER All the night and all the night he swam But it was easy work to let the big river carry him on its back. All the night and all the night he made up a little song and sang it, like this: “O Robin Rat, what shall we eat? Bojabi—bojabi—bojabi. O Pinky Pig, so fat and neat, Bojabi—bojabi—bojabi. O Giddy Goat, so fast and fleet, Bojabi—bojabi—bojabi. O Humpy Hippo, hard to beat, Bojabi—bojabi—bojabi. O Bruno Bear, with clumsy feet, Bojabi—bojabi—bojabi. O Katy Crocodile, here’s a treat, Bojabi—bojabi—bojabi. O Tommy Tortoise, of Puddle Street, Bojabi—bojabi—bojabi. O All-the-Beasts, come quick and eat Bojabi—bojabi—bojabi.” And THAT was what his mother had told him to do. All the Beasts were lying on the bank of the river. Far away they heard the little, thin voice of Tommy Tortoise singing his song. They pricked up their ears, looking this way and that way as they listened. And presently Tommy Tortoise came crawling up through the mud. “What is it?” they cried, each in his own PARTICULAR voice. You would have thought that all the circuses in the world were there. “Bojabi,” said Tommy Tortoise, and crawled away home without another word. SUPPER! That night All the Beasts had bojabi for their supper. But Tommy Tortoise had cream with his. THE KING OF ALL THE BEASTS They made Tommy Tortoise their king. “For,” they said, “if he could remember the name of the bojabi tree, he can do anything.” As far as I know he is king of All the Beasts in the Great Wood to-day. —Adapted from an African Folk Tale. THE End TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE: Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. |
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