TRANSPORTING A MUMMY ON A SLEDGE.
There was an odor of gums and spices as the box was opened, but it was not by any means overpowering. The Doctor said the substances had lost a good deal of their strength in three thousand years, and it was a wonder that any odor at all was perceptible. Some of the linen wrappings had been unwound, so that portions of the dried flesh of the mummy were perceptible. It resembled wood in a state of decay more than anything else, and a very brief inspection was all that our friends cared for. The inscription on the lid of the case was more interesting than was the occupant within, and Fred remarked that the mummy must have been a person of great consequence to need so much door-plate on the outside. "And to think," he added, "that he was shut up for thirty centuries, and had no friends to call and see him!"
GODDESS OF TRUTH, WITH HER EYES CLOSED.
Frank repeated some lines which were originally addressed to a mummy in Belzoni's Museum, in London, many years ago:
"And thou hast walked about—how strange a story!—
In Thebes's streets, three thousand years ago.
When the Memnonium was in all its glory,
And time had not begun to overthrow
Those temples, palaces, and piles stupendous,
Of which the very ruins are tremendous.
"Speak! for thou long enough hast acted dummy.
Thou hast a tongue—come, let us hear its tune.
Thou'rt standing on thy legs above-ground, mummy,
Revisiting the glimpses of the moon;
Not like pale ghosts or disembodied creatures,
But with thy bones, and legs, and limbs, and features.
"Tell us, for doubtless thou canst recollect,
To whom should we ascribe the Sphinx's fame?
Was Cheops or Cephrenes architect
Of either pyramid that bears his name?
Was Pompey's Pillar really a misnomer?
Had Thebes a hundred gates, as sung by Homer?"
"Good-bye, sweetheart, good-bye!" said Fred, as Frank paused, and the Doctor turned away from the relic of other days.