"Can any of you read?" he asked.

"I can," said the clown.

"Then see if she speaks the truth. Is her name really in the book?"

The clown picked it up and looked at the name.

"It is," said he. "'Jane Gladys Brown;' and written quite plainly in
big letters."

The bear sighed.

"Then, of course, I can't eat her," he decided. "That author is as
disappointing as most authors are."

"But he's not as bad as the artist," exclaimed the donkey, who was
still trying to stand up straight.

"The fault lies with yourselves," said Jane Gladys, severely. "Why
didn't you stay in the book, where you were put?"

The animals looked at each other in a foolish way, and the clown
blushed under his white paint.

"Really--" began the bear, and then he stopped short.

The door bell rang loudly.

"It's mamma!" cried Jane Gladys, springing to her feet. "She's come