CHAPTER XVIII 



TERRIER V. ELEPHANT 



IN the depths of the heart, where I treasure the 

 memories of the friends I have and of those I have 

 had and are now no more, there is a soft spot which 

 belongs to a little fox-terrier who was for some 

 time a companion of mine through the storm and 

 stress, the joys and sunshine of the lonely pori. 

 He was not a thoroughbred terrier merely a 

 mongrel but there are occasions when breeding is 

 not everything. Whisky (for that was his name) 

 was one of Nature's gentlemen. For affection, 

 for sheer pluck, for that downright impertinence 

 so characteristic of the terrier, this dear little fellow 

 was hard to beat. 



To say that a terrier would have the audacity 

 to tackle an elephant seems so ridiculous that many 

 will be inclined to think the story which follows 

 something in the nature of fiction, but I can assure 

 the reader that this is not so. Let me relate the 



incident exactly as it happened. 



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