d happened. "He is a good
elephant."

"Couldn't he have my apple?" asked Flossie. "I'm not so very hungry for
it, and if I want one Daddy will get me another. Won't you, Daddy?" she
asked, kissing her father, who was still holding her.

"I will if you promise never to go inside an elephant's cage again," he
answered.

"Oh, I never will," said Flossie. "Here, you give him the apple," she
said, holding it out to the keeper. "I guess he wants it."

"Oh, he _wants_ it, all right!" laughed the man. "And, though it is not
exactly according to the rules, I guess it will be all right this time.
Here you are, Ganges!" he called. "Catch!"

The big elephant raised his trunk, making a sort of curling twist in it,
and when the keeper threw the apple Ganges caught it as well as a baseball
player could have done.

The next moment Flossie's apple was thrust into the elephant's mouth, and,
as he chewed it, his little eyes seemed to twinkle in delight.

"He likes an apple just as much as I do," said Freddie. "Elephants is
queer!"

"Don't try to go in there to feed this one peanuts!" said Bert, fearing
that the little twin boy might try to do as his sister had done. Generally
Flossie and Freddie wanted to do the same things.

"No, I won't go in," Freddie said.

Having swallowed the apple, the elephant held out his trunk toward the
Bobbseys again. He was asking for "more," as plainly as though he had
spoken.

"No more!" called the keeper, and this the elephant seemed to understand,
for he lowered his trunk, and backed into his corner, throwing hay dust
over his back as he did in the Summer to keep the flies from tickling him.

"Well, I guess we've seen enough of elephants for one day," said Mrs.
Bobbsey. "I thought I should faint when I saw Flossie go into that cage. I
wish I could get a cup of tea."

"We'll go and have lunch," said Mr. Bobbsey. "It's about noon, I think."

They went to a restaurant near a great round stone, which was perched on
the top of a big ledge of rock, and when Freddie wanted to know what it
was his father told him.

"That's a rocking stone," said Mr. Bobbsey. "It stands there on a sort of
little knob, and it is so nicely balanced that a man, or two or three
boys, can easily push it and rock it to and fro."

"Do you mean one man can move that big rock?" asked Bert.

"Yes, he can make it rock, but he can not make it move off the rock on
which it rests. Come and try."

Bert and his father pushe