But Mother Elephant did worry about the pie, and as they walked along she kept turning around to look at Grandpa and the pie.
"There's our street car," called Father Elephant, starting to run. "Hurry up, it's about to leave."
Mother Elephant gathered up her cape and ran too.
Little Elephant trotted as fast as his legs would go. But then the string on his fish pole came loose. It tangled all around his legs and he had to stop and unwind it. And the hook got caught in the trousers of his new white suit. He got it out and ran on.
Grandpa Elephant came along, puffing like a steam engine. But the hatbox was swinging safely from his trunk.
Father Elephant got Mother Elephant and Little Elephant safely on board the street car. Then he reached out to pull up Grandpa. But the conductor was in a hurry to go, so he called out, "All aboard!" and pulled the bell.
"Hey! Wait for Grandpa," called Father Elephant.
But the car was already moving. Grandpa Elephant ran alongside, panting.
Then he saw he couldn't get aboard with that hatbox in his trunk. "Here, catch this, Little Elephant," he piped. And the box with the pie came sailing through the air.
