"Teddy is talking show-talk now. We have a language of our own."

"I should say you do?" grumbled the widow.

"What's the bull in front got on his trunk, Phil?"

Phil shaded his eyes and gazed off down the street.

"That's my friend Emperor. I don't know what it is he
is carrying. That's queer. I never saw him carrying
anything in parade before, did you?"

"No."

For a moment both lads directed their attention to making out
what it was that Emperor was carrying along.

"It looks to me like a basket of flowers," finally decided Phil.

"Has somebody been handing him a bouquet," grunted Teddy.

"It certainly looks that way."

"Why, I really believe he is coming in here."

"Coming here--an elephant coming into my front yard? Mercy me!"
exclaimed Mrs. Cahill, starting up.

"Why, Mrs. Cahill, Emperor wouldn't hurt a little baby. I hope
he does come in. Sit still. Don't be afraid."