"I beg your pardon," said the Englishman, "but that Sphinx never was in Athens."
"But Solomon John may have made the mistake,—we all make our mistakes," said Mrs. Peterkin, tying her bonnet-strings, as if ready to go to meet Solomon John at that moment.
"The Sphinx was at Thebes in the days of Œdipus," said the Englishman. "No one would expect to find it anywhere in Greece at the present day."
"But was Solomon John inquiring for it?" asked Mr. Peterkin.
"Indeed, no!" answered the Englishman; "he went every day to the Pnyx, a famous hill in Athens, where his telegram had warned him he should meet his friends."
"The Pnyx!" exclaimed Mr. Peterkin; "and how do you spell it?"
"P-n-y-x!" cried Agamemnon,—"the same letters as in Sphinx!"
"All but the s and the h and the y" said Elizabeth Eliza.
"I often spell Sphinx with a y myself," said Mr. Peterkin.
"And a telegraph-operator makes such mistakes!" said Agamemnon.