“No, no, thank you,” he said. “I am going back to school, and some day back to India; but I should like to come and see you and the elephant again.”
“Of course you would, sir, and come you shall,” cried Ramball. “Perpetual passes! You don’t want no pass. Just you show your face here, both of you, whenever you like, and bring as many of your schoolmates with you too, and you will be as welcome as the flowers of May. Look here, young gentlemen, I am going to keep the show open here for three days, and then we go off to my farm three miles out of the town to lay up for a bit of rest and do repairs, and get the animals into condition, before we take the road again. You come and see me there, and pick out what you’d like to have, monkeys or parrots, as I said. I don’t offer you anything big, because I don’t suppose you could keep it at school; but I have got some of the amusingest little monkeys you ever see, and a parrot as can talk—when he likes, mind you,” continued the man, laying a fat finger against his nose, “and that ain’t always. But when he is in the temper for it he can say anything, and you wouldn’t know but what it was a human being.—Going, gentlemen?”
“Yes, we are going now,” said Singh.
“Yes, it’s time we were off,” said Glyn; “but I say, Mr Ramball, what about that rifle?”
“Rifle? Oh, you mean my gun?”
“Yes,” said Glyn. “You don’t mean to shoot that grand beast?”
“Shoot him, sir? Not me. It put me in such a temper and made me say that. But, young gentlemen, do think over what I said. Why, if you joined my troupe, I’m blessed if I wouldn’t buy another as big as him, and then you’d have a elephant apiece.”