Rosy Is My Relative Read Online Free PDF Page A

Adrian.
    “What’s she like?” enquired Mr. Pucklehammer with interest.
    “She . . . Rosy,” said Adrian, “is an elephant.”
    “An elephant? ” said Mr. Pucklehammer, and whistled. “That’s a bit of a problem for you.”
    “You could put it that way,” said Adrian coldly.
    “An elephant,” repeated Mr. Pucklehammer thoughtfully. “Well, well. That is a bit of a facer.”
    “I’m inclined to agree with you,” said Adrian. “What I’m to do with her I just don’t know, but all I do know is that the wretched man who brought her, not unnaturally wants to get rid of her. She won’t fit in Mrs. Dredge’s garden, so I’ve had to bring her here. Will you let me keep her in your yard for a bit, until I decide what to do?”
    “Yes, yes, boy, of course,” said Mr. Pucklehammer readily, “plenty of room here. Never had an elephant here, come to think of it. It’ll make a bit of a change.”
    “Thank God,” said Adrian fervently, “I’m most grateful to you.” He went back into the road where the carter appeared to be melting steadily into his handkerchief.
    “It’s all right,” said Adrian, “she can come in here.”
    The carter threw open the doors of the dray, and Rosy uttered a pleased squeal at the sight of her friends.
    “’ere’s the keys,” said the carter, handing them to Adrian. “one for each padlock.”
    “Is she tame?” asked Adrian nervously, realising that up until that moment he had had no experience with elephants.
    “I think so,” said the carter. “You’ll soon find out though, won’t you?”
    “Perhaps I ought to get it something to eat,” said Adrian. “keep it occupied. What do they eat?”
    “Buns,” said Mr. Pucklehammer, who was peering at Rosy with interest.
    “Do be sensible,” said Adrian irritably. “Where am I going to find a bun at this time of the day?”
    “Ow about oats?” suggested the carter.
    “No, no, it’s buns they eat,” said Mr. Pucklehammer.
    “I do wish you’d stop gassing on about buns,” said Adrian in exasperation, “we haven’t got any buns.”
    “How about a cheese sandwich?” said Mr. Pucklehammer. “I’ll go and get one and we’ll try.”
    He returned presently with a large cheese sandwich, which he handed to Adrian. Very cautiously, holding the sandwich in front of him as though it were a weapon, Adrian approached Rosy’s vast grey bulk.
    “Here you are then, Rosy,” he said hoarsely. “Nice cheese sandwich . . . good girl.”
    Rosy stopped swaying and watched his approach with twinkling eyes. When he was within range she stretched out her trunk and, with the utmost speed and delicacy, removed Adrian’s bowler bat and placed it on her own massive domed head. Alarmed, Adrian jumped back, dropped the sandwich and trod heavily on the carter’s foot. This did not improve the carter’s already frayed temper. Picking up the sandwich Adrian approached Rosy again.
    “Here you are, Rosy,” he said in a trembling voice, “nice sandwich.” Languidly Rosy reached out her trunk again, took the sandwich from Adrian’s shaking fingers, and inserted it into her mouth which looked–to Adrian’s startled gaze–the size of a large barrel. Faint grinding and slushing noises indicated that the elephant did eat cheese sandwiches. Hastily, while her mouth was full, Adrian went down on his knees, undid the padlocks and removed the shackles from Rosy’s legs.
    “There we are,” he said, backing out of the dray. “Come along then . . . good girl.”
    Rosy sighed deeply, took off the bowler hat and fanned herself with it, but apart from this gave no indication that she intended to vacate the dray.
    “I’m normally a patient man,” said the carter untruthfully, “but I would like to point out, while you’re stamping about all over me feet and stuffing that elephant on sandwiches, that I ’aven’t ’ad so much as a bite to eat this morning.”
    “Well, I’m trying to get her out,” said Adrian aggrievedly, “you