Ellen's Lion by Crockett Johnson Read Free Book Online

CONVERSATION AND SONG
    E llen sat on the footstool and looked down thoughtfully at the lion. He lay on his stomach on the floor at her feet.
    â€œWhenever you and I have a conversation I do all the talking, don’t I?” she said.
    The lion remained silent.
    â€œI never let you say a single word,” Ellen said.
    The lion did not say a word.
    â€œThe trouble with me is I talk too much,” Ellen continued. “I haven’t been very polite, I guess. I apologize.”
    â€œOh, that’s all right, Ellen,” the lion said.
    Ellen sprang to her feet and jumped up and down in delight.
    â€œYou talked!” she cried. “You said something!”
    â€œIt wasn’t anything that important,” said the lion. “And watch where you’re jumping.”
    â€œIt was the way you said it,” said Ellen, sitting down again. “You have such a funny deep voice!”
    â€œI think my voice sounds remarkably like yours,” the lion said.
    â€œNo, it sounds very different,” Ellen told him, speaking with her mouth pulled down at the corners and her chin pressed against her chest to lower her voice. “This is how you talk.”
    â€œI don’t make a face like that,” said the lion.
    â€œYou don’t have to. Your face is always like that,” Ellen said. “It’s probably why you have the kind of voice you have.”
    The lion did not reply.
    â€œI didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” said Ellen.
    â€œI’m nothing but a stuffed animal. I have no feelings,” the lion said, and with a sniff, he became silent.
    â€œI like your face the way it is,” Ellen said, trying to think of a way to cheer him up. “And you have got a lovely deep voice. Let’s sing a song.”
    â€œWhat song?” said the lion.
    Ellen thought of a cheerful song.
    â€œLet’s sing ‘Old King Cole.’ ”
    The lion immediately began to sing.
    â€œOld King Cole was a merry old soul—”
    â€œWait,” Ellen said. “Let’s sing it together.”
    â€œAll right,” said the lion.
    â€œOld King Cole was a merry old soul—”
Ellen sang, and then she stopped. “You’re not singing.”
    â€œAnd a merry old soul was he—”
sang the lion.
    â€œâ€”was he,”
sang Ellen, trying to catch up.
“He called for his pipe and he called for his bowl—”
    She realized the lion was not singing with her and she stopped again.
    â€œAnd he called for his fiddlers three—”
sang the lion.
    â€œCan’t we both sing at the same time?” Ellen said.
    The lion considered the question.
    â€œI don’t think we can,” he said. “Do you?”
    â€œLet’s talk,” Ellen said. “It’s easier.”
    â€œAll right,” said the lion.
    â€œThink of something to talk about,” Ellen said.
    â€œAll right,” said the lion.
    Ellen waited. After a minute or two she looked at the lion. He lay motionless on the floor.
    â€œHe thought so hard he fell asleep,” she whispered as she left the playroom on tiptoe.

TRIP TO ARABIA
    â€œH ere comes the train,” said Ellen. “It’s stopping at the station. Are you ready to go?”
    â€œGo where?” said the lion.
    â€œTo Arabia.”
    â€œThat train doesn’t go to Arabia,” the lion said. “It goes around in a little circle on those tracks on the floor.”
    â€œIt goes through the tunnel to Arabia,” Ellen told him. “And then it comes around and back to the station, by way of Greenland and Delaware Water Gap.”
    Sprawled out comfortably, the lion showed no inclination to go anywhere or to move at all.
    â€œWhoooo!” said the train. “All aboard for Arabia!”
    Ellen had to help the lion onto the train. She balanced him on his stomach on the roofs of the last two cars with his legs dangling on each