Hearing these words Jim resolved to conquer his alarm. He bowed his head with as much dignity as he could muster toward the savage looking beasts, who in return nodded in a friendly way.

“Is not the Real Horse a beautiful animal?” asked the Sawhorse admiringly.

“That is doubtless a matter of taste,” returned the Lion. “In the forest he would be thought ungainly, because his face is stretched out and his neck is uselessly long. His joints, I notice, are swollen and overgrown, and he lacks flesh and is old in years.”

“And dreadfully tough,” added the Hungry Tiger, in a sad voice. “My conscience would never permit me to eat so tough a morsel as the Real Horse.”

“I’m glad of that,” said Jim; “for I, also, have a conscience, and it tells me not to crush in your skull with a blow of my powerful hoof.”