“Can you cook kabobs?”
“What’s them, sir—Egyptian vegetables?”
“Vegetables! Hark at him! Did you ever hear of Kous-kous?”
“Can’t say I ever did, sir; but look here, I’ll buy ‘Cookery for the Million,’ and I’ll soon learn.”
“Oh, you’re improving!” said the professor sarcastically. “Here, I’ll try you on something else. Could you ride and drive a camel?”
“What, one of them wobbly, humpy things at the Zoo? I never tried, sir, but I’ve seen the children have rides on them. I could soon manage one o’ them, sir. I’d try an elephant if it came to that.”
The professor shook his head disparagingly, and Sam gave Frank and his master an imploring look, which made the former take his part. “Look here, professor,” he said quietly; “really I think it might be managed,” and Sam’s long face shortened.
“Managed! Do you think we shall do what we propose if you and Morris take your valets?”
“There is going to be a black slave in the party,” said Frank, “and I do not see why the Hakim should not have a barber who is a white slave.”
“Humph!” ejaculated the professor, in a regular camel-like grunt, and he set up his back after the manner of that animal.