al thing in the Standard Oil Company, and that he had
underground pipe lines running under several states, gathering oil away
from the people who owned it, and that at the present time he was worth
a billion dollars, and his income was $9,000,000 every little while,
and, by ginger, you ought to see the people bow down to him. Say, common
bank robbers and defaulters just fell over themselves to get acquainted
with dad, and to carry out the joke, I put some kerosene oil on dad's
handkerchief, and that clinched it, for everybody loves the smell of a
perfume that represents a billion dollars.
All the women wanted to dance with dad in the hotel dance, and because
they thought I must be heir to all the oil billions, they wanted to hold
me on their laps, and stroke my hair, as though I was it. I guess we
are going to have everything our own way here, and if dad does not
get eloped with by some Egyptian princess, I shall be mistaken. The
Egyptians are pretty near being negroes, and wear bangles in their ears,
and earrings on their arms. You take it in the dark, and let a princess
put her arms around you, and sort of squeeze you, and you can't tell
but what she is white, only there is an odor about them like "Araby the
blessed," but in the light they are only negroes, a little bleached,
with red paint on their cheeks. If I was going to marry an Egyptian
woman, I would take her to Norway, or up towards the north pole, where
it is night all day, and you wouldn't realize that you were married to
a colored woman. To be around among these Egyptians is a good deal like
having a pass behind the scenes at the play of Ben Hur in New York, only
here the dark and dangerous women are the real thing, instead of being
white girls with black paint on.
We have just got back from the pyramids, and dad is being treated for
spinal meningitis, on account of riding a camel. I never tried harder
to get dad to go anywhere on the cars than I did to get him to go to the
pyramids by rail, as a millionaire should, but he said he was going to
break a camel to the saddle, and then buy him and take him home for a
side show. So we went down to the camel garage and hired a camel for
dad, and four camels for the arabs and things he wanted for an escort,
and a jackass for me. There were automobiles and carriages, and
trolleys, and everything that we could have hired, and been comfortable
for the ten-mile ride, but dad was mashed on the camel, and he got it.
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