“Yes; and I am to marry all the drummers.”
“What a lark!”
“Eh?”
“I said it would be fun,” answered Max.
“Do you think so?”
“Fancy, if you offended your wives, or if you wished to give them a lecture, they would seize their drums and beat such a tattoo that you would acknowledge yourself vanquished.”
Max laughed so heartily at the idea that Ibrahim almost feared for his reason.
Taking up the challenge, however, he retaliated.
“And wouldn’t your ears be split with the chorus of tinkling cymbals?”
“It is horrible. Of course you refused the honor.”