the little girl
eagerly. "I am quite certain it must be very funny."

"I don't think the Officer found it so," the little lady replied, giving
a sweet, little tinkling laugh.

"Didn't he?" asked her listener with much interest.

"I wish you would tell me all about it now," she continued; "I want so
much to hear it."

"Not now," replied the little Marionette, "it is getting too late; all
the animals in the Noah's Ark are fast asleep. Listen, they are snoring
loudly. Come to-morrow at the same time. Be punctual, for the story is a
long one."

"Yes, I will," promised the little girl.

CHAPTER IV

The next day she was as good as her word, arriving to the very minute. It
was the little Marionette who was not in time. It was quite five minutes
before she tripped up the counter and greeted her little friend. The
little girl looked at her with some reproach.

"It is _you_ who are late, not I," she said.

"Is it?" replied the little Marionette. "Well, I _am_ ashamed. However,
here I am now, so I will begin at once to tell you my tale."

And settling herself down, and smoothing out her beautiful brocade
dress, she began without further ado, the story of: "The Officer and
the Elephant."

THE OFFICER & THE ELEPHANT

Amongst all the Toys in the toy-shop, none were so disliked and feared
as the twelve Wooden Soldiers who, with an imposing Officer at their
head, proudly faced the world in double file.

In the first place, they were intensely proud and vain. They showed this
in everything they did. For example, their drill was of the most simple
description. It merely consisted in their moving backwards and forwards
from one another on a platform of sticks, which could be drawn out or in
at pleasure.

This, it will easily be believed, required no great skill or knowledge.
Yet, to judge from the pride expressed upon the faces of the Wooden
Soldiers as they went through this simple movement, one would have
certainly imagined it was exceedingly difficult.

Their foolish pride was also displayed in their manner towards others.
No one ventured to ask them even the most civil of questions for fear of
receiving a rude answer. Father Christmas one afternoon happened to
inquire at the Commanding-officer what time it was.

"Time," he replied, "for little boys to be in bed."

"You might," said the patriarch gravely, "have shown a little respect
for the length of my beard and the whiteness of my hairs. 'Tis ha