“No, I have heard of none.”
“They are not properly a part of the skeleton, are they?” (Innocently)
“Oh, no, no, they are very unimportant affairs—interesting only as anomalies,” he said pompously.
“Then (demurely) I suppose I may keep all the sesamoid bones I find in my subject, mayn’t I?”
He laughed and said, “Yes, you are welcome to all the sesamoid bones you find,” and started to walk away.
“Thank you, Dr. S——,” I said, with ill-concealed triumph, “I’ll take this patella when I go home to-night.”
He started, coloured, looked annoyed, then amused. He was fairly caught, for the patella, though of course a legitimate part of the skeleton, is formed in the tendon of the Quadriceps Extensor, and is described by Gray, because of its mode of development, as a kind of sesamoid bone—a fact which had somehow stuck in my memory, as unimportant things will, while others of greater import sifted through. The Demonstrator walked away looking a little chagrined, but later I saw him laughing on the sly with the seniors, and before he left he came back and said, “You may take your ‘sesamoid bone’, Miss Arnold; you have earned it.”
I had not thought out how I could contrive to get a souvenir from my next “part,” but this same Demonstrator unwittingly helped me out. I was at work on the wrist, and as he stood looking on he asked, “Have you found any more ‘sesamoid’ bones?” I said No, but just then the little pisiform bone, not much bigger than a pea, stood out so conspicuously that, seeing how easy it would be to sever it from the other small bones, I purposely made a careless cut, and the little thing rolled on the table.
“Oh, my!—well, you surely wouldn’t have me put that mite in the pail—and it won’t stay on the wrist now.”