been traveling from ocean to ocean, trying to do humane work. 

 I belong to the Humane Societies of New York, Boston and other 

 prominent cities. I believe that I have accomplished much good. 



My Master has with him two elk. He calls them Cuba and 

 King Rex. They have big bushy antlers and look awfully queer 

 to me. They are not sociable and kind like Ned and Ted. One 

 day when I went up to King Rex to say something in our univer- 

 sal sign language he struck me a staggering blow in the face with 

 his horns. Gee ! but I was mad. No one was near. Master was 

 out of sight. I was so indignant and furious that I wheeled around 

 and let both heels fly. I caught his royal highness in the short 

 ribs and stomach. It sounded like a bass drum. He doubled up 

 like Ostler Joe's jackknife and let a groan out of him that you 

 could hear ten blocks. He began to squirm and work his antlers 

 suspiciously and I mosied away into my own favorite stall. Master 

 came in and saw King Rex all doubled up with pain. "Goodness," 

 said he, "that elk's sick." And then he gave him a big dose of 

 nasty colic medicine. I kind o' laughed to myself but said nothing. 

 But when he saw the bruise and gash on my forehead he asked 

 what the matter was. I pointed over to Rex, and he said, "Been 

 mixing it with that elk, eh?" He laughed and said, "Well, you 

 actors and performers are just like all other show people." 



I think Cuba has a little better disposition than King Rex, but 

 his antlers are just as long and as hard and as dangerous. But I 



don't feel unkind to 

 these poor animals, 

 for they don't know 

 a great deal. They 

 can't understand as 

 I do. They obey 

 Master willingly 

 and they dive into a 

 delicious bath many 

 times a day to please 

 him. If they only 

 had "horse sense" 

 and would do as 

 they might do Mas- 



Last Stage Spasmodic Colic 



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