“This is my little elephant, sir,” said Mr. Omer, fondling the child. “Siamese breed, sir. Now, little elephant!”
The little elephant set the door of the parlour open, enabling me to see that, in these latter days, it was converted into a bedroom for Mr. Omer who could not be easily conveyed upstairs; and then hid her pretty forehead, and tumbled her long hair, against the back of Mr. Omer’s chair.
“The elephant butts, you know, sir,” said Mr. Omer, winking, “when he goes at a object. Once, elephant. Twice. Three times!”
At this signal, the little elephant, with a dexterity that was next to marvellous in so small an animal, whisked the chair round with Mr. Omer in it, and rattled it off, pell-mell, into the parlour, without touching the doorpost: Mr. Omer indescribably enjoying the performance, and looking back at me on the road as if it were the triumphant issue of his life’s exertions.
After a stroll about the town I went to Ham’s house. Peggotty had now removed here for good; and had let