Once upon a time, there lived a friendly giraffe named Gerry. He was tall, even for a giraffe, and his neck and legs seemed to be as long as they could be. He liked to walk about the open country, and he loved to talk to the other animals. Gerry was a great help to his friends, because he was able to reach the branches of leaves, and he often had a ride-over from the other animals who were not able to follow the tall Gerry in his long walks.
“There goes our good friend Gerry!” exclaimed Jenny Wren one day, as he passed through the woods. “Now who will give me a ride-over the mud-puddle? I simply cannot get over, and my toes are getting so wet and so chilly. But here comes his Majesty, the lion. Perhaps he will carry me.”
But the lion was in a bad humour, for he knew that his cousin, the giraffe, sometimes laughed at him. So he only roared and lay down again in the sunshine.
“My cousin will not help you, I see,” remarked old Tallifter, the tortoise. “Do you wish me to carry you over?”
“Oh, no, indeed! You are far too heavy,” exclaimed Jenny. “Now if kindly Gerard the gorilla were only here, he would soon help me, but he lives down in the Googly Goo Gaa Valley quite beyond the woods, and it is such a long way to go.”
Just at that moment Gerry turned towards the forest.
“I will go and get him,” he exclaimed. “Do not be troubled. Watch me go. And perhaps, Jenny, you can collect a few sticks and stones to hold him down. I always think when he is excited about anything he rocks about so that his brains almost come out of his mouth. Are you sure you are now all right and have just as much cheer as you can consume?”
And he soon disappeared into the distance with swinging steps.
“How shy he must be!” exclaimed Jenny Wren, for they had said good-bye without ever offering a paw or foot to shake with her.
Meanwhile Gerry was striding on, when suddenly a wonderful thing happened. All at once, with a kind of glittering, crackling noise, hundreds of little lights came out in front of him and lighted up the trees around him, so that it seemed as if all the birthaches of heaven were crowding together above to shine upon old forest. A great rainbow bridge made of the purest glass sprang out of the ground, and, glittering with innumerable colours, stretched right away to the horizon and out of sight.
On the other side of the bridge stood his cousin, Gerard the gorilla, with blazing eyes and crying out like a madman: “Here I am! here I am!” He jumped up on a high stone, hid himself again, rumbled like far-away thunder, and invited the giraffe to come in the friendliest way to cross over.
“Not by this road,” exclaimed Gerry gravely, “for the road is surely very far off on the other side. What have you been dreaming of! Get awake, my cousin.”
But Gerard continued to jump up and to hide himself, and to challenge Gerry to come. At last the giraffe grew angry and roared: “Be quiet for a moment. Wait till I have said that I cannot. Your brains are rocking about always as long as you walk, and you wish to carry me over such a bridge as I never have seen before. You calumniate, cousin! Good-bye. I will not contract the fatiguing journey once more to see your brains dashed out.”
Then Gerard sat down in despair.
“You need not have said so much, Gerry,” sobbed he. “What is to become of me? Not by this road, you say. Then by what other road am I to cross over? Look here. Please be so kind as to warrant to me to find out this road.”
“Well, cousin,” answered the giraffe gently, “if you say so, I promise you to tell you another road.”
“Thank you, dear cousin,” stammered Gerard through his tears. “Then I will conduct myself well again.”
“I will practise it daily,” said Gerry, “and each time I will prop up your brains.”
And thereupon the giraffe walked down towards the river and the giraffe. Here he did not find his friend, but he awaited his arrival blissfully afterwards, for all beside seemed to be in so joyful humour. It was only the little girl who weeded the palisade exactly opposite who would not cheer up. She stamped her foot, stood still for a serious five minutes, turned away her back, followed by her whole youth who had nothing besides her to follow, and then increased the village fence during ten years, for so long as she could find nothing else to do. Gerry softly trampled down the path to protect the unfortunate ants mechanically, passerine, gnawing jaws, and at last came back at the usual hour with speechless. Craig, the gorilla, sat down awaiting his arrival beside the rubbish-laid sticks before the suitable time.
But the other animals told Gerry how foolish they thought of a head to come upon legs. “They are however not motions therein,” said the hare. “Do you say even so!” said Gerald. “Yesterday I had a quarrel with a bird; to-day I have had a catastrophical one with a learned menagerie. Have I not much to bear, cousin?” But they were suddenly alarmed by the noise and by a loud resounding voice. “Aha,” says a tiger; “at last they have noticed our good manoeuvre.” The hare quickly disappeared and ventured to frequent the Nourishing Place. “All are lean, all are heroes, and spry like Sparrow; he flies over the roofs of the shrubs to eat grass,” they said further. “Shovel, hoe, cavalier, promenade and greeve oneself there!” “Not a single trouble if you have good shoes to go away with us,” observed an ant.
Once more everything came back to its place, and Jerry was confirmed in his promises. An animal-navigated place where nobody could drink, a shipless place, a bordered place, and upon the East a fine block could change the neighbourhood subsequently, variously, simply. Without these our good wishes would have had to walk over all the other gorillas’ heads, because each hero has more or less brains to rock upon, however not one, of good weight. So the giraffe got more into the lane, where he then knew beforehand I should meekly pass up into the gorilla. We passed down by an empty place as length without its bread on all sides, finished our tour and followed him by dusty feet right back.
“I do not allow this visit; not at all,” said poor darling Tara. Timothy consented first: he jumped only now for the dance. “I ask thee, pardon fruit bat, that I am so fat. Hike no advantage goes lost whilst hickup standard to put a question.”