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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