I told a
doctor about this once, and he said he'd done the very same thing with
patients."

Coming again to the need of patience, let me quote my friend "Bill"
Newman. "Why," said he, "I've spent weeks and weeks teaching an elephant
to ring a bell--just that one thing. You have to sit by him hour after
hour, giving him the bell in his trunk and giving it to him again when
he drops it, and then again and again for a whole morning, and then for
many mornings until he gets the idea and rings it right. It's the same
way teaching an elephant to fan himself or teaching tricks to a clown
elephant; you have to wait and wait, and never give up. Once an elephant
understands what you want he'll do it, but it's awful hard sometimes
making 'em understand."

"How do you teach them to stand on their heads and on their hind legs?"
I asked.

"With the same kind of patience and with tackle. Just heave 'em up or
roll 'em over the way they're supposed to go and then keep at it. Some
learn quicker than others. Once in a while you get a mean one, and then
look out."

An instance of the affection felt for wild beasts by their tamers is
offered in the case of Madame Bianca, the French tamer, who in the
winter of 1900 was with the Bostock Wild Animal Show giving daily
exhibitions in Baltimore, where her skill and daring with lions and
tigers earned wide admiration. It will be remembered how fire descended
suddenly on this menagerie one night and destroyed the animals amid
fearful scenes. And in the morning Bianca stood in the ruins and looked
upon the charred bodies of her pets. Had she lost her dearest friends,
she could scarcely have shown deeper grief. She was in despair, and
declared that she would never tame another group; she would leave the
show business. And when the menagerie was stocked afresh with lions and
tigers Bianca would not go near their cages. These were lions indeed,
but not _her_ lions, and she shook her head and mourned for "Bowzer,"
the handsomest lioness in captivity, and "Spitfire," and "Juliette," and
the black-maned "Brutus."

This recalls a story that Mr. Bostock told me, showing how Bianca's
fondness for her lions persisted even in the face of fierce attack. It
was in Kansas City, and for some days Spitfire had been working badly,
so that on this particular afternoon Bianca had spent two hours in the
big exhibition cage trying to get the lioness into good form. But
Spitfire remained sullen and refused to do o