"Couldn't yer 'elp me down, sir? Quit that, yer 'eathen!" as he dodged a shower of water.
"Certainly not," replied Scarsdale. "You can't leave him riderless in a public place."
Then, turning to the landlord, who stood by in sore perplexity, aimlessly rubbing his hands, he continued:
"It's a beastly shame that a gentleman can't take a lady's elephant out for—exercise without running up against all this nonsense in the first little hamlet he comes across! One would almost think you had never seen an elephant before."
The landlord, whose eyes had up to this time been fairly bulging with curiosity, now declared himself desolated at such an uncalled-for suspicion.
"Perhaps it would be better if the gentleman were to send for a constable."
Mine host neglected to add that he had done so on his own responsibility in his first burst of agitation.
But Scarsdale, noting the excellent effect which his rating had produced on the landlord, determined that he should have some more of it.
"If you are afraid," he said, "of damaging your ramshackle old inn, perhaps you'll consent to give my elephant his dinner in the square?"
Mine host rolled up his eyes at this new phase of the question.