“What grand American have wrote some light tex-book on angry animals to be shot in Africa?” he ask-it.
“Some distinguished African might do this intelligently,” I snuggest for help.
“I have perused inside of entire edition of Hon. Booker Washington,” repose Sydney, “and there I find chapter on ‘Care & Culture of Mules by Young Coloured Niggers’—and yet he are suspiciously silent about brutal beasts to be murdered on Jambeezi Creek.”
“African subjecks is kept very dark by educated Africans,” I drib for laughing-joke which sound delicious in Japanese.
“I enjoy considerable puzzle,” corrode Sydney. “If no light books is to be had about them carnibblous animals of darky Africa, how we know what expect when Hon. Roosevelt go shoot it?”
“At $2 a word one may expect anything,” I dib. “Hon. Gulliver wrote delicious travels for much less.”
“Hon. Gulliver were a short & ugly tourist,” notate Nogi.
Then in come Uncle Nichi, my ¼ ancestor, wearing congressional shoes which irritate his straw-seed appearance of Japanese farmer. He banish in hand 1 piece tab-paper of which he are foolishly proud.
“So glad!” he rake-out. “I got here a sweet list of all mad animals what reside there in dam section of Congo riverside.”
“Who give you such lists?” I require for shame because he is my bloody relation.