I have a story now for you, Frank, about a horse, as I know you are particularly fond of horses. An Arab chief with his tribe had attacked in the night a caravan, and had plundered it; when loaded with their spoil, however, the robbers were overtaken on their return by some horsemen of the Pacha of Acre, who killed several, and bound the remainder with cords. The horsemen brought one of the prisoners, named Abou el Mavek, to Acre, and laid him, bound hand and foot, wounded as he was, at the entrance to their tent. As they slept during the night, the Arab, kept awake by the pain of his wounds, heard his horse's neigh at a distance, and being desirous to stroke, for the last time, the companion of his life, he dragged himself, bound as he was, to the horse which was picketed at a 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.