“If you only would,” sighed the elephant. So Neddie gently scratched the big creature who was standing on his head. “Ah, that is lovely. I feel so much better now,” said the elephant. “I can stand this way as long as I have to.”
But he did not have to stand on his head much longer, for the circus man came over pretty soon and said to Frisko:
“That will do. You recited your lesson very nicely. Now you may go to the kitchen and get a lump of sugar.”
And the elephant did—a large lump, for he had a large mouth, you know.
“Now, Neddie Stubtail, I think I’ll see what sort of lesson tricks I’ll give you to study,” went on the circus man. “First, let me see you climb up this pole.”
There was a big round pole, like a telegraph one, sticking up in the middle of the circus barn floor.
“Oh, I can’t do that!” said Neddie. But then he remembered how he and Beckie had once gone up the telegraph pole the time the skillery-scalery alligator was after them. Up and up went Neddie, sticking his claws into the soft wood. Beckie, watching her brother, felt very proud of him, and so did George, the tame trained bear.
Neddie was almost at the top, when, all of a sudden, the pole began to tip over and over and over.
“Oh, it’s falling!” cried Beckie. “Neddie, look out! You’ll be hurt!”
No one knew what to do. There was great excitement. The lions roared and the tigers snarled. Then Frisko, the elephant, who had practiced standing on his head, and whose back Neddie had so kindly scratched, came rushing up, swallowing the last of his lump of sugar, and this elephant cried: