unfortunate Frankenstein that was responsible for his existence. The purchase was effected by a series of complicated negotiations, carried on in my behalf by a half breed elephant trainer, known as Jerry Rhahob, with the owner of Ulysses. Had I undertaken the job myself I might have found an elephant a more expensive luxury than I cared to possess. My agent, the half breed, had the reputation of knowing more than any man in Madras about the habits and characteristics of elephants and the means by which they could be most successfully trained. For some time he had been in charge of the yards where the animals owned by the British government were prepared for service in war or road building. Before setting out for my bungalow, I thought best to consult with Jerry, who spoke English perfectly, as to the course of education to which I proposed treating Ulysses. “I intend to teach this animal all that an elephant can be made to learn,” said I. “You will not have time to do that,” said Jerry, significantly. “Do you mean,” I asked, “that there is no limit to what an elephant can be taught?” “My experience has led me to believe that it depends upon the patience of the man, and not upon the capacity of the brute, how far the instruction may be carried.” “Very well,” I said; “I shall have patience. What I most need is advice about gaining the creature’s confidence and affection.” The fact that I am a bachelor does not prevent my entertaining an extensive code of opinions on the subject of the proper rearing of children. The suggestions of Jerry Rhahob on the training of elephants seemed to me much the same that I would have offered a young and inexperienced parent if he had applied to me for advice about his offspring. Reduced to its fundamental principles, Jerry’s theory was that an elephant should be regarded as a dumb and deformed human being, possessed of a keen appreciation of right and wrong, delicate sensibilities, exceptional capacity and high character. From the mental and moral qualities with which Jerry’s conception seemed to endow this being, I would have accorded him a place in the human species, among the class that is said to be born and not made, the “genus irritable.” One piece of warning he gave me in conclusion. “The elephant knows as well as you do,” said he, “that he is an animal and you are a man. He