“Bother the elephant!” cried Singh irritably, for this early waking from a comfortable sleep had soured his temper.
“All right; bother him, then,” replied Glyn, who was wonderfully wakeful now; “but it seems to me that he’s going to bother us. I say, Singhy, the Doctor said he wouldn’t let Slegge keep that fox-terrier dog he bought a month ago.”
“Well, I know; but what’s that got to do with the elephant coming here?”
“Oh, I only meant that the Doctor won’t let you keep him as a pet,” said Glyn with a chuckle.
“Such rubbish!” snapped out Singh in a rage, as he stood on one leg, thrust one foot through his trousers, and then raising the other he lost his balance somehow, got himself tangled up, and went down with a bang.
“Oh, bother the old trousers!” he cried angrily, as he scrambled up. “Here, I don’t know what we are going to do.”
“Don’t you? Well, I do. It’s plain enough that the great brute has been wandering about till he found his way here.”
“But how did he get in?” cried Singh jumpily and with a good deal of catching of the breath, for in his haste he kept on getting into difficulties with his buttons and the holes through which they ought to have passed.
“Well, I don’t know,” said Glyn; “but I should say he tramped along yonder under the wall till he came to where the hedge had been mended up, and then walked through.”
“Well, suppose he did,” said Singh angrily. “What difference does that make? You see what a mess we are in. You are always pretending to give me good advice; now one is in regular trouble you don’t say a word.”