THE LAST EVENING
come nigh us no more. Alpha-beta-gamma-delta-epsilon!" he concluded, brandishing his arms, as Mammy vanished with a shriek and a clatter of tea-things.
"She's disposed of," said Siddereticus, as he bent once more to the troublesome alcohol lamp.
"Did you really magic her?" asked Fen, solemnly. "Will it hurt her?"
"Not in the least, I assure you," said the Djinn. "Ha! The lamp's all right now; as soon as the water is boiled, we'll have our cambric tea. You're not to talk, because you're tired,—yes, you are! don't contradict a Djinn, ever; something might happen,—so I'll sing to you, a queer little song, while the kettle boils."
He was seated cross-legged on the deck, and as he sang, he swayed a little from side to side, crooning this strange, wild air:
59
