“Lass which, sir?”
“Lasso him, my man, with ropes.”
“Why, he ain’t a wild ostrich of the desert, sir. Look at him!—Here, one on yer run off and fetch the longest cart-rope. This ’ere gentleman would like to have a try.”
The boys were roaring with laughter by this time, the mathematical master’s parasites joining in as heartily as Glyn and Singh.
“Don’t be rude, fellow,” said Morris.
“Don’t be rude?” cried Ramball, who was fuming with disappointment and rage. “Rude yourself. If you give me much more of your sarce I’ll set the animile at you.”
As this was proceeding, the elephant, whose taste for apples had been satiated, came slowly out into the open, to stand bending and bowing his massive head, which he swayed slowly from side to side and blinked and flapped his ears, as he watched the assembly with his little reddish eyes in a way which made the mathematical master grip Slegge by the arm.
“I am getting uneasy,” he whispered, “about you boys. Don’t run, but follow me slowly back to the fence. Tell the other boys, and we will go at once.”
“Can’t you coax him out, sir?” said Glyn, as he approached the proprietor.
“No, I can’t coax him out,” cried Ramball snappishly; “but you mind your own business, I know mine. I have had enough of you putting your spoons in my porridge.”