Just So Stories | Page 9

a trick worth learning. Take a lesson

by it, Leopard. You show up in this dark place like a bar of soap in a
coal-scuttle.'
'Ho! Ho!' said the Leopard. 'Would it surprise you very much to know
that you show up in this dark place like a mustard-plaster on a sack of
coals?'
'Well, calling names won't catch dinner, said the Ethiopian. 'The long
and the little of it is that we don't match our backgrounds. I'm going to
take Baviaan's advice. He told me I ought to change; and as I've
nothing to change except my skin I'm going to change that.'
'What to?' said the Leopard, tremendously excited.
'To a nice working blackish-brownish colour, with a little purple in it,
and touches of slaty-blue. It will be the very thing for hiding in hollows
and behind trees.'
So he changed his skin then and there, and the Leopard was more
excited than ever; he had never seen a man change his skin before.
'But what about me?' he said, when the Ethiopian had worked his last
little finger into his fine new black skin.
'You take Baviaan's advice too. He told you to go into spots.'
'So I did,' said the Leopard. I went into other spots as fast as I could. I
went into this spot with you, and a lot of good it has done me.'
'Oh,' said the Ethiopian, 'Baviaan didn't mean spots in South Africa. He
meant spots on your skin.'
'What's the use of that?' said the Leopard.
'Think of Giraffe,' said the Ethiopian. 'Or if you prefer stripes, think of
Zebra. They find their spots and stripes give them per-feet satisfaction.'
'Umm,' said the Leopard. 'I wouldn't look like Zebra--not for ever so.'
'Well, make up your mind,' said the Ethiopian, 'because I'd hate to go
hunting without you, but I must if you insist on looking like a
sun-flower against a tarred fence.'
'I'll take spots, then,' said the Leopard; 'but don't make 'em too
vulgar-big. I wouldn't look like Giraffe--not for ever so.'
'I'll make 'em with the tips of my fingers,' said the Ethiopian. 'There's
plenty of black left on my skin still. Stand over!'
Then the Ethiopian put his five fingers close together (there was plenty
of black left on his new skin still) and pressed them all over the
Leopard, and wherever the five fingers touched they left five little
black marks, all close together. You can see them on any Leopard's

skin you like, Best Beloved. Sometimes the fingers slipped and the
marks got a little blurred; but if you look closely at any Leopard now
you will see that there are always five spots--off five fat black
finger-tips.
'Now you are a beauty!' said the Ethiopian. 'You can lie out on the bare
ground and look like a heap of pebbles. You can lie out on the naked
rocks and look like a piece of pudding-stone. You can lie out on a leafy
branch and look like sunshine sifting through the leaves; and you can
lie right across the centre of a path and look like nothing in particular.
Think of that and purr!'
'But if I'm all this,' said the Leopard, 'why didn't you go spotty too?'
'Oh, plain black's best for a nigger,' said the Ethiopian. 'Now come
along and we'll see if we can't get even with Mr. One-Two-
Three-Where's-your-Breakfast!'
So they went away and lived happily ever afterward, Best Beloved.
That is all.
Oh, now and then you will hear grown-ups say, 'Can the Ethiopian
change his skin or the Leopard his spots?' I don't think even grown-ups
would keep on saying such a silly thing if the Leopard and the
Ethiopian hadn't done it once--do you? But they will never do it again,
Best Beloved. They are quite contented as they are.
I AM the Most Wise Baviaan, saying in most wise tones, 'Let us melt
into the landscape--just us two by our lones.' People have come--in a
carriage--calling. But Mummy is there.... Yes, I can go if you take
me--Nurse says she don't care. Let's go up to the pig-sties and sit on the
farmyard rails! Let's say things to the bunnies, and watch 'em skitter
their tails! Let's--oh, anything, daddy, so long as it's you and me, And
going truly exploring, and not being in till tea! Here's your boots (I've
brought 'em), and here's your cap and stick, And here's your pipe and
tobacco. Oh, come along out of it --quick.

THE ELEPHANT'S CHILD
IN the High and Far-Off Times the Elephant, O Best Beloved, had no
trunk. He had only a blackish, bulgy nose, as big as a boot, that he
could wriggle about from side to side; but he couldn't pick up things
with it.