little distance.

"Poor friend," said he; "what will you do among the Turks? You will
be shut up under the roof of a khan, with the horses of a pacha or
an aga; no longer will the women and children of the tent bring you
barley, camel's milk, or dourra, in the hollow of their hands. No
longer will you gallop, free as the wind of Egypt, in the desert. No
longer will you cleave with your bosom the water of the Jordan which
cools your sides, as pure as the foam of your lips. If I am to be a
slave, at least may you go free. Go, return to our tent which you
know so well; tell my wife that Abou el Marek will return no more;
but put your head still into the folds of the tent, lick the hands
of my beloved children."

With these words, he untied with his teeth the fetters, and set the
courser at liberty. But the noble animal, on recovering its freedom,
instead of bounding away alone, bent its head over its master, and,
seeing him in fetters, took his clothes gently in its teeth, lifted
him up, set off at full speed, and, without ever resting, made
straight for the distant but well-known tent in the mountains.

The horse arrived in safety, laid his master down at the feet of his
wife and children, and immediately dropped down dead with fatigue.
The whole tribe mourned him, the poets celebrated his fidelity, and
his name is still constantly in the mouths of the Arabs of Jericho.

And now, boys, let us talk about the elephant a little. I have been
reading something of his history, and I am disposed to think that,
of all animals, he is, on the whole, the most intelligent."

"More intelligent than the dog, Mother?"

"Yes, it seems so to me. He is not so disinterested, so loving, but
he reasons more than any other animal. He is also capable of very
strong attachment, but he will not bear ill treatment. The elephant
seems revengeful. The dog still loves the master who is unkind to
him.

The elephant will learn to assist his master in his work. An
elephant who belonged to the Duke of Devonshire would come out of
her house when her keeper called her, take up a broom, and stand
ready to sweep the paths and grass when he told her to do so. She
would take up a pail or a watering pot, and follow him round the
place, ready to do his bidding. Her keeper usually rode on her neck,
like the elephant drivers in India, and he always spread over her a
large, strong cloth for alighting, which the elephant, by kneeling,
allowed him to do. He