"How do you know?" broke in Warren. "You never rode a camel, and you never rode in the superintendent's carriage."
"Yes, I have too. I've ridden in the superintendent's carriage that time I went to interpret for him down to the big village. I rode with him in his carriage."
"You boys said you wouldn't stop my story," protested Edwin, yawning.
"Say, Brush," I asked, "when that bone was whittled, and it became Eve, what did she do?"
"Well, one morning she went down to the creek to swim, and, just as she was going to step into the water by a big willow-tree, she saw a snake in the tree with a man's head on, and the snake—"
"It wasn't a snake," interrupted Warren; "it was the serpent, the Sunday-school teacher said so."
"Well, it's the same thing,—the snake and the serpent is the same thing."
"No, they're not. The serpent is the kind that's poisonous, like the rattle-snake; and the snake is like those that don't poison, like the garter-snake and the bull-snake."
"Brush, go on with your story," I broke in impatiently. "Don't mind Warren; he doesn't know anything!"