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"bulls." He waited until they had bathed as much as they wished, and let them stand in the water while the hot sun dried them. Then he gave a queer, low whistle, and immediately they obeyed it, splashing out to the bank.

"Would they like apples?" Hugh asked.

"Wouldn't they!"

"Even with codlin-moth grubs?"

"They won't notice no grubs," said the elephant-man. "Got any handy?"

The orchard fence was near. Hugh was through it in a flash, returning with his shirt stuffed with apples. He became instantly popular with the elephants. They disposed of the apples as fast as he could hand them out— the smallest actually followed his hand into his shirt with his trunk, so swiftly and deftly that Hugh had no time to be afraid before it withdrew, an apple in its clutch. The keeper laughed.

"He won't hurt you, sonny. Wouldn't do that if he didn't like you. Let him try again."

Hugh stood his ground manfully while the snaky trunk slipped within his shirt again: glad that the elephant found the apple quickly. He buttoned up the shirt, as a hint that there were no more—a hint at once accepted by the elephant.

"Well, that's a treat for 'em," said the keeper. "Feed and bed now, I reckon, boys. Like a ride up, son?"

"On an elephant?" Hugh gasped.

"That's all the mount I can offer you; but any of 'em