“It will, if I have anything to do with it. Just because we never did have a procession without an Equator is no reason we shouldn’t have one. Besides, now that there’s no Equator to watch, unless they parade, those good-for-nothing creatures won’t earn their cuds.” The car by this time was grating on a hillside, and soon brought up between a couple of slender palm trees. “I’ve been expecting you,” said a voice--a sad voice that seemed to come from directly above the car. Looking out of the car window, Billy saw a bright light among the branches of the tree--a light that surrounded like a halo the figure of a very pretty girl. “Why,” said Nimbus briskly, lifting his hat, “it’s the Evening Star.” “Yes,” said the Evening Star, “it is I. I came to complain about the Equine Ox. He’s very disconsolate, and he’s singing continually. I wish you’d stop him.” Billy was very much surprised to find the Evening Star all alone. He was about to ask Nimbus why it was when she said: “You see, Papa--he’s the Sun--never comes out at night; and Mrs. Moon, who’s my mamma, isn’t up yet, so I had to come alone. Is there anything else you’d like to know, little boy?” Billy was very much abashed at thus having a question answered before he had asked it, and especially by a young lady whom he had never met. But there was one thing he wanted to know very much, so he said politely: “Yes, thank you. I should like to know why the Equine Ox sings when he is unhappy.” “Oh, that’s so people can tell he’s the Equine OX,” said the Evening Star. “He always does things backward. When he’s very angry he rolls on the ground and roars with laughter. When he’s pleased about anything he weeps bitterly, and when he’s unhappy he sings.” “There he is now,” said Nimbus, who had been listening intently. “Don’t you hear him?” Billy heard something that first sounded like a long-drawn-out moo, but which he soon recognized as a very familiar air. “Come on,” said Nimbus. “Us, too?” inquired the motorman and conductor. “We don’t want to be left alone in these here foreign parts.” “Yes,” said Nimbus, “come ahead!” and he led the way down a winding pathway that opened through the trees. The singing grew louder and louder as they proceeded, and shortly they came out into a little open space overgrown with flowers and surrounded by a very dense tropical growth. In the center of it stood a creature that looked a little like an ox, a little like a horse, and very much like a map of the solar system. Billy and the street-car men stopped at a signal from Nimbus. The Equine OX was singing. How dear to my heart was my home in the tropics, The pythons that wreathed in fantastic festoons; The parrots discoursing on trivial topics, The smug armadillos and sweet-faced baboons; The ostrich, the emu, the suave alligator, Flamingoes with necks that were cleverly curled; But dearest of all was the charming Equator, The dear old Equator that ran round the world!