So, slipping down from the box, he tiptoed in and out through the sleeping forms, passed to the open space between the little white tent and all the bigger tents, picked his way among the gayly dressed men and the women who drowsed in the chairs or lay stretched on the grass and, once clear of them, skipped away as fast as ever his two legs would carry him in the direction of the great tent where lived the monkeys, and tigers, and lions, and things. Reaching its entrance, he spied all the keepers leaning against the poles of the tent. But they, too, were asleep—their chins buried deep on their breasts. Then he advanced to the very center of the vast circle, formed by all the red and golden cages. And, at sight of this funny old clown in the polka-dot suit, there went up such a cry from the animals that, for the moment, Diggeldy Dan was tempted to skip away even faster than he had come. For never had he heard any such shout, which—but for the fact that the people of the circus were in a very deep sleep—must have wakened every one of them. But the keepers slept on, and soon Dan came to realize that the voices were joining in a sort of chant. Putting his head to one side he listened ever so intently; and then a great smile broke over his face. For gradually the chant took form. Yes, it was quite distinct now. The animals were shouting, in almost as many keys as there were voices: “Dan, Dan, Diggeldy Dan, Dan, Dan, Diggeldy Dan.” And, looking about from cage to cage, Dan saw that all of the animals were standing, their eyes shining, their faces flushed, their mouths working gleefully in the song that sang his name. Then, almost as quickly as it had begun, the chant ended and all was as quiet as the hush of the twilight. “Well, well,” began Dan, making four separate bows—one to the north, one to the east, one to the south, and the last to the west—“you seem to know who I am!” “Of course we do,” answered the mighty chorus. “You’re Dan, Dan, Diggeldy, Dan. We’ve been expecting you the whole day.” “And who, if I may make bold to ask, told you to expect me?” “Why,” came the shout, “it was a little bird. A bird—” “Never mind the rest,” interrupted Dan. “I might have guessed, without asking. It was the blue bird, of course. So we’ll lose no time in retelling old stories, but get down to business at once.” And—that he might not be accused of playing favorites, in so far as which animal should be the first to be let out of its cage—the old clown put his feet together, raised himself to the very tips of his toes, shut his eyes very tightly, spun around exactly seven times and then—with his eyes still closed—followed the end of his long, funny nose, until it had brought him to the door of that cage which was nearest it. And, opening the door and his eyes at the very same moment, Diggeldy Dan came face to face with—Lion.