"Emperor, you rascal!" laughed Phil, patting the beast on the
head.

Once more the trunk curled up in search of more sugar, but a
stern command from the trainer caused the beast to lower it
quickly. The time for play had passed. The moment had arrived
for Emperor to do his work and he was not the animal to shirk his
act. In fact, he seemed to delight in it. All elephants work
better when they have with them some human being or animal on
which they have centered their affections. Sometimes it is a
little black and tan dog, sometimes a full-grown man. In this
instance it happened to be a boy, and that boy Phil Forrest.

"Waltz!" commanded the trainer.

If Phil's head had swum before, it spun like a top now. Round
and round pirouetted the huge beasts, keeping in perfect step
with the music of the band, and tighter and tighter did the lad
grip the head harness of old Emperor. Phil closed his eyes after
a little because he had grown so dizzy that he feared he would
fall off.

"Hang on, kid. It'll be Christmas by and by," comforted the
trainer humorously.

"That's what I am trying to do," answered Phil a bit unsteadily.

"How's your head?"

"Whirling like a merry-go-round."