“No!—not Frenchman, not Roman!—born in Egypta!”
“Born in Egypta. Never heard of Egypta before. Foreign locality, likely. Mummy—mummy. How calm he is, how self-possessed! Is—ah—is he dead?”
“Oh, sacre bleu! been dead three thousan’ year!”
The doctor turned on him, savagely:
“Here, now, what do you mean by such conduct as this? Playing us for Chinamen because we are strangers and trying to learn! Trying to impose your vile second-hand carcasses on us! Thunder and lightning! I’ve a notion to—to—if you’ve got a nice fresh corpse, fetch him out!—or, by George, we’ll brain you!”
Mark Twain.
A PARODY.
The boy stood on the backyard fence, whence all but him had fled;