“Hear ye all! These young and tender creatures are in love. Sven here is about to offer himself to the shapely Loke, whom he loves to distraction. Bashful young men, please take notice! This exhibition is for thy especial benefit.”
He gave both elephants a sharp prod with a bronze-tipped goad which he carried. Sven began to tremble all over. His huge loose skin, much too big for his ponderous body, moved forth and back mechanically, in well-simulated emotion, and the hair raised in every direction as he approached Loke.
“Down on your knees, sir! Down, sir,” shouted Cezardis, hitting him a heavy whack across his forelegs. The elephant fairly shook the ground beneath him as he came to a kneeling posture.
“Bow your head respectfully, sir!” commanded Cezardis.
Sven laid his ears close to his head, and drew his trunk well under, giving himself a ludicrously shamefaced expression.
“Give Sven his answer, Loke. Answer, I say!”
Loke stuck her trunk up in the air, and with a disdainful toss of her head, waddled off in an opposite direction, to the delight of the audience. Their shouts of laughter were a signal to Sven.
He fell over on his side, and stiffened himself out as if he were dead.
“Oh, poor fellow! P-o-o-r fellow!” cried Cezardis, with mock pathos. “I know how it is myself, sir.”
The elephant raised its head and looked at him.