"He then tried to speak Arabian to her, but did not succeed, because he knew only the classic Arabian, while the pretty girl apparently spoke the modern dialect. But because Zuleika had been working in New York for a number of years—publicly showing the greatly modified Salome dance—she spoke English very well, in fact, with the typical Bowery slang.
"As it was Jennings's greatest wish to gain possession of the camel bone before a museum or a college could take it away from him, he immediately offered the girl fifty dollars for it. But Zuleika only smiled and gave him such a look that he felt very cheap for having made such a low offer."
At length Edward came to the purpose of his visit. Jennings's money had temporarily given out, and he also was a little embarrassed at present. He had written home and expected funds shortly, but he needed two hundred dollars right away to buy the camel bone. And as they, of course, wanted to celebrate the good luck, a few dollars more for a nice, quiet, wine supper with the Arabian girls was necessary.
It was hard for me to say what I thought of Edward and Jennings. But rather than be called stingy, I gave Edward my check; and he promised to return the money in a few days.
Several months passed. I never saw Jennings again, but from Cousin Edward I received this letter:
Dear Cousin and Friend:—
You are probably surprised that I haven't sent the money I owe you and I should have written a long time ago, but I have been awfully busy with some experiments on a new spider glue. It's going to be a world beater. So I hope you will excuse me.
Poor Jennings is in wrong at home. He came back without the bone, looking very seedy. His mother thought he had worked too hard, but his father knew better. He was in New York once when he was young.
Jennings is trying awfully hard to get along and is earning his living tutoring and writing for the newspapers up home. Worst of all, he has discovered that the bone which he bought from the beautiful Arabian girl—you remember the one with the Salome dance I told you about—seems to be of more recent date than he thought and the hieroglyphics on it are not Modsahabat at all, but something more modern. He thinks however, it is worth considerable money anyway, as he bought it at a bargain. To show his good faith, he gave it to me for the debt.
Of course, in this little town, I can't dispose of such a rare bone; but in New York you should be able to sell it easily and that's why I'm sending it to you. Keep the $225 we owe out of what you get for the bone and send me the balance so that I may forward it to poor Jennings.
It will be to our and your best interests that you sell it soon, because I think the bone smells a little.
Yours sincerely,
I agreed particularly with the last part of the letter and did not lose any time. I took the bone to the curator of the Museum of Natural History. He is an authority on Oriental matters and examined the hieroglyphics carefully, covering his nose. He said it wasn't Assyrian, nor Arabian, nor Babylonian, nor Chaldean. It was Bunk. As to the bone, he advised me to consult a butcher.
I threw Modsahabat in the garbage can yesterday. Then I wrote a letter which read as follows:
Dear Cousin Edward:—
The market for camel bones is punk just now, especially when the camel is an ox. Tell Jennings to brush up on Zoology before he goes after any more Modsahabats.
