‘Half a minute, sir,’ said Mr. Omer. ‘If you was to go without seeing my little elephant, you’d lose the best of sights.

You never see such a sight! Minnie!’ A musical little voice answered, from somewhere upstairs, ‘I am coming, grandfather!’ and a pretty little girl with long, flaxen, curling hair, soon came running into the shop.

‘This is my little elephant, sir,’ said Mr. Omer, fondling the child. ‘Siamese breed, sir. Now, little elephant!’

The little elephant set the door of the parlour open, enabling me to see that, in these latter days, it was converted into a bedroom for Mr. Omer who could not be easily conveyed upstairs; and then hid her pretty forehead, and tumbled her long hair, against the back of Mr. Omer’s