took up the pancakes she had been turning and put them on a plate. She placed a big lump of butter on top, and poured syrup all over them.
Little Elephant didn't talk any more then. He just ate his way down through that stack of pancakes, one after the other, as fast as he could. Then Mother Elephant gave him another stack, and he ate that.
When he couldn't eat any more, he watched Mother Elephant making the sandwiches for the picnic. The piles grew higher and higher, one pile of cheese, one of meat, one of peanut butter, and an extra big pile of jam sandwiches. For she knew Little Elephant loved jam sandwiches.
Then he spied the stuffed eggs—a whole tray of them! "Oooh," sighed Little Elephant, because he wanted one of those eggs and he was sure Mother Elephant wouldn't let him eat one before the picnic. Reaching over he picked up one in his trunk.
"Little Elephant, put down that egg," said Mother Elephant without turning around.
"Oh, I just wanted to smell it," he said, as he laid it back.
Into the great lunch basket went the sandwiches, a fried chicken, a vegetable salad, the gingerbread, the stuffed eggs, the potato chips, and all the other good things.
