"Ay, and there was others. There was a crowd of reckless fellows in the days before the flood--or after it; I don't know which--and they came from heaven to court the daughters of men, such grand women they had in those days. And the Lord God heard of it, and He stood up and looked at them, and he said just one word. They 've never been heard of since. One minute they were there, and the next was emptiness. "Mind you, I 'm not saying anything like that will happen to me, for Himself has always been kindness to me. It's always 'How are you, Michael John?' and 'Don't you ever take a rest at all?' and 'Sometime I 'll have to take a day and come down and see yourself and the wee ones!' But just, if I don't come back, don't think I 've taken a better job. Sure, I 'd never desert you, my wee darlings. It's just maybe I 'm getting a wee bit of discipline." "I think--" the elephant seemed husky in the throat--"your own plan might be best--to wait for an opportunity and just suggest." "Better say nothing at all," growled the lion. "No, childer dear; I 'd better just go ahead. I will confess it was timid of me not to go in the first place. It was thinking of my old skin I was, and I should be ashamed of myself. Sure, there 's no disgrace in asking for fair play, and you 've been sorely tried. I 'll go." "No, no, no!" wailed the animals. "No, your own plan was wise," the elephant insisted. "If anything happened to you, what would become of us?" "Yes, what would become of us?" the little ones wailed. "Do you honestly think my own plan's wiser? You 're not saying that to save me from trouble?" "We're not," the lion said. And "Of course not," added the tiger. "Just slip in a word when you can," from the elephant. "Honestly, now, it would be best." The angel was relieved. "I can talk about your loyalty; and, sure, I can remind him of the kine that gave shelter to the Wee Relative in Bethlehem, and the donkey that was proud to carry His weight; and I 'll remind Him, too, that I 've never asked a favor yet, and if He could just see His way--" "Well," the elephant thought aloud, "I 've got to be getting back to Burma." "I 'm going your way," said the tiger. "There 's nothing to keep me up further," said the lion. "I 'm very much obliged to you all--" the angel was abashed with emotion--"for not insisting. And it's lucky I am," said he, "to have decent beasts to deal with and not man. For man would have insisted I 'd go, and not given a tinker's curse what would have happened me." "Ay, man!" sneers the great white bear. "For God's sake Philip, will you be getting home out of this, before I have you sick on my hands! And as for you, Go-by-the-Ground, get back to the river or I 'll sink my foot in your tail. Go on now! Be off with you!"