In a vibrant jungle, where the leaves shone brightly and flowers exhaled sweet fragrances for miles, lived a jovial young elephant named Ella. She had a cheerful attitude and loved frolicking about the jungle all day. However, there was a tiny problem—Ella was very, very forgetful.
“Remember Ella,” her mother said one sunny morning, “don’t forget to water my little tree. It’s looking very sad, is it not?”
“I shan’t forget,” said Ella, cramming her memory. “Mind you, don’t forget,” called her mother as she saw Ella go.
Before long, Ella arrived at a large green bush that had wonderful sweet fruits hanging and swinging from it. “Oh, I never knew that became ripe so soon,” she thought. That bush was one where she often met her friend Emmeline, the camel, and she was not far off now.
“Emmeline,” said Ella, “look how lucky I am! Look at the fruit! I just know it is ripe, let us eat it.”
They enjoyed the fruits together, and while they were doing so a parrot flew by. “Caw! Caw! Ella!” he cried, “your mother is calling you. Caw! Caw!”
“Oh dear! I must go,” and off she set.
When she had gone some distance, with her mind full of her mother and her upbringing, she suddenly exclaimed, “Oh, my dear mother! The tree! I forgot it!” And off she trudged to water it.
The next morning her mother noticed it, but said nothing. That day her mother told her to make the barn ready and to crush herbs for the dogs. So off Ella clambered to the barn. On her way she saw a butterfly whose wing was turned. This perplexed her because she was fond of looking at these creatures when they were flying about in their finished state.
“My wing! My wing!” said the butterfly, which was only one winged now, “please put it near your stream for a little, and I shall soon be again able to fly about.”
Ella without thinking did so, but the result was so much that dew collected on the wing, which stuck fast to the bottom of the little brook. Ella was very sorry, but was soon off to the barn again, showing the butterfly to everyone till it healed.
When she at last arrived at the barn her friends were coming from it.
“It’s very kind of you, dear Ella, to see to everybody’s wants,” said the donkey. “Good-bye,” and they all stepped out to forage.
Poor Ella, regretting that she had not allowed them to remain, began working away. Thinking them inside, she did her up most to be quick.
She washed the floor which they were to trot over; she crushed the herbs with her trunk; she brought all the ashes from the other end of the farmyard.
At last all was ready, at least so she thought, and she sat under her mother’s tree and had a good sleep.
When her friends returned and saw all Ella’s doings they thought the barn had come to an end. Poor Ella had got crusted all over with the ashes she had trampled and was soon in a mound of splashed dirt.
The lion and tiger seeing things seemed all well, set off in pursuit of some vehicle of prey they detected.
When all the beasts were in the barn, and every one that was outside came neatly combed and washed, Ella’s mother began saying as she always did, “Caw! Caw! Ella!” as a warning cry, but this time no one stayed to listen to her.
It was not long before they were out just in time to save their lives. The lion as his usual habit was first; he leapt on the donkey. Ella raised her trunk and trumpeted, and the donkey most politely said,
“Jump on my back, and we shall soon knock off our visiteur!” over he, she, and the lion went in a confused heap, all the others rushing forward and attacking the lion and his friends with trunk and horn, tooth and nail.
“Do leave off,” said the zebra, “and come down, that we may hold a court of justice, and judge this offender.”
“I say let us do as the lion says,” grunted the hog, “and roast and eat him at once,” and forward he came.
Ella and her friends were all afraid of the lion, and to satisfy that his views were not known to the other beasts had a corner of the lawn set apart for the box tree, that their friend’s eye might not be offended.
As she was interested in her health and growing up, she began creeping there every day as soon as the wolves arrived at home and trained with their chief.
One evening as the lions were coming back from their walk, they met Ella and told her how happy they were to see her looking so exceedingly well.
“I always train for my own day,” said she, “if I mean to enjoy it afterwards.”
The lions thought if it was the fashion, and it was healthful, they must copy.
The elephant sow, thinking nothing would suit the day when they came together, as all beasts must, she put all the horns in pots. Horns first came out. “What a sensible creature,” thought all she is.
Every animal that was turning up pushed down its ears to say their mother had given them both, they pushed away everything else but their own trunk or hose.
None of them were ever tired, and when two trunks came near, owing to their supports not being strong enough to hold the heads above it, the elephants and zebras promised to have a race in such form, and go to the little aunt’s villa, staying there to rest them all night, that they might be well able to return.