“Of course,” said the old camel, and in spite of the fact that he was very much interested in the conversation, his lids kept slipping down over his eyes. “Naturally, we all want what isn’t good for us. But that doesn’t mean you’re going to be a silly, piggish little camel and—”
“Please,” said the youngest camel in a small but firm voice. “I choose the necklace. That’s what I want.”
“Well, I must say that’s very unkind of you,” said the old white leader, and he tossed it around the little camel’s neck with rather a nasty jerk. “No one’s ever chosen the necklace before and so I was always able to keep it. Everyone’s always chosen the bag of ashes because it was the politest and nicest thing to do.”
The youngest camel now fell down on his knees and thanked the ancient leader for all the kindness he had shown him, and as soon as he had paid him enough homage to restore him to a good humor, he turned the necklace around and around his neck until he came to the bead which was shaped like a heart and red as a cherry and he read the inscription inside:—
Oh, heart, on music let me ride
This instant to my mother’s side.
But first he slipped the magic opal under his tongue, so that by the time he reached his mother and was clasped in her arms, all the lies he had ever told her had been transformed to truth.
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.