“Why, a rattlesnake would be scared to death at such a baby!” said Harry; “and her mother couldn’t lose her if she tried. But she couldn’t go to church with that thing on—not if she was restless!”
After taking one more picture, the portrait of an Egyptian flower-girl who wandered into the tent, and whose costume, if not her face, was her fortune (at a quarter for every photograph), the explorers waved a final good-by to the rattling baby and turned again into Cairo Street.
Before an attentive circle, just outside the inclosure, an Arab was beginning a performance of trained animals—at least he had a kid poised on a pedestal, and a monkey making ready to ride.
Philip pressed forward to the inner edge of the ring, and leveled the box. He snapped the shutter. Catching the noise, the animal-trainer pulled the kid suddenly down and shook his head with a triumphant grin. Philip moved away, while the bystanders laughed.
“‘He laughs best who laughs last,’” thought Philip to himself, as he wound up the exposed film and rejoined his companions.
“‘HE LAUGHS BEST WHO LAUGHS LAST.’”
IN CAIRO STREET.
