the worse they smell."

So Tom began his story.

"You heard from me at Bombay; after I'd been up to the Himalaya with
an old Mumpsimus friend?"

"Yes."

"Well, I worked my way to Suez on board a ship whose doctor had fallen
ill; and then I must needs see a little of Egypt; and there robbed was
I, and nearly murdered, too; but I take a good deal of killing."

"I'll warrant you do," said Mark, looking at him with pride.

"So I begged my way to Cairo; and there I picked up a Yankee--a New
Yorker, made of money, who had a yacht at Alexandria, and travelled
_en prince_; and nothing would serve him but I must go with him to
Constantinople; but there he and I quarrelled--more fools, both of us!
I wrote to you from Constantinople."

"We never got the letter."

"I can't help that; I wrote. But there I was on the wide world again.
So I took up with a Russian prince, whom I met at a gambling-table
in Pera,--a mere boy, but such a plucky one,--and went with him to
Circassia, and up to Astrakhan, and on to the Kirghis steppes; and
there I did see snakes."

"Snakes?" says Mary. "I should have thought you had seen plenty in