Two Little Women on a Holiday, Carolyn Wells [ink ebook reader .txt] 📗

“Yes, indeed; I believe in fresh air, but I keep this room closed so much of the time it does get stale.”

Mr. Forbes threw open a window that faced the south, and as there was no wind blowing, the fresh winter air was balmy and pleasant.

“That’s better,” said Bernice, and she began to look at the treasures all about her.

There were many tall cases, like book-cases, and on their shelves were ranged curios and valuables of all sorts. These proved more interesting to Dotty than the birds and butterflies.

“Oh, look at the old jewellery!” she cried. “Just like what we saw in the museum, Doll.”

“Yes, here are old Egyptian trinkets,—aren’t they, Uncle Forbes?”

“Yes, those are Egyptian and Abyssinian. This nose ring was worn by a lady in India some centuries before you girls were born.”

“What is the oldest thing you have, Uncle?” asked Alicia. “This jewellery?”

“No; this is my oldest piece,” and Mr. Forbes took from a shelf an image of a cat. It was of dark brown material, and was dingy and roughened, as if by fire.

“This came from an old Egyptian tomb,” he said. “You know they put all sorts of idols and charms in the tombs of their dead. Then once in a while these things are exhumed, and in some instances sold by the Egyptian Museum authorities. I buy only what is guaranteed by them to be genuine. I have an agent, who has travelled in many countries to collect authentic antiquities for me. This cat dates from about 2000 B. C.”

“Gracious!” cried Dotty, “and there’s been nearly two thousand years since B. C. That makes Mr. Cat about four thousand years old! Some cat!”

“Well, a cat has nine lives anyway,” laughed Alicia, “so it ought to be a long time dead.”

“That never was a live cat, was it?” asked Dolly.

“Oh, no. This was a bronze image, but fire and age have turned it to a mere brittle shell. If it were dropped to the floor it would break into a thousand pieces.”

“Oh, my! take it!” exclaimed Dolly, who was holding the precious relic. “I didn’t know it was so fragile.”

Mr. Forbes took it carefully. “That’s why I don’t often bring young people up here. They’re too heedless to appreciate the value of these old things. Yes, two centuries before the Christian Era, this piece of bric-a-brac, as we would call it, adorned the tomb of some Egyptian citizen. I have the guarantee, signed by the Egyptian Museum. And here is a fine specimen. This is in a better state of preservation. See, you can read the date on it clearly, 537 B. C.”

Mr. Forbes took from a cabinet a small image of a mummy. It was of blue stone, somewhat chipped and worn, but preserving its shape and colour. On the back, in rude figures, but clearly discernible was the date to which he called their attention.

“Wonderful!” said Alicia. “Their figures are much like ours, aren’t they?”

“Yes, my child, the Arabic numerals are of ancient usage. Think of the old hand that carved that date! Long since mouldered to dust!”

“It gives me the creeps!” declared Bernice, “and yet it fascinates me, too. Was this found in a tomb?”

“Yes, or in a temple. Excavations in Egypt, latterly, produce so many of these things that it is not difficult to get them. But that’s pretty old, you see,—half a century before Christ.”

“I wonder who was King of Egypt then,” said Dotty. “I wish I could remember my history better. I learned about the Ptolemies and the other dynasties, but I get ‘em all mixed up.”

Although the others were eagerly examining the old mummy relic, Dolly stood looking at it thoughtfully.

“May I take it?” she said, after the others had scrutinised it.

Dolly handled it carefully, as she minutely observed it on every side. It was about six inches long and was a perfect little model of an Egyptian mummy. She gazed at the date deeply graven on the back, and then with a slight smile she handed it back to Mr. Forbes, saying, “Very good, Eddie!”

“What! What do you mean?” cried the old gentleman, glaring at her, and Alicia exclaimed, “Why, Dolly Fayre! You rude little thing!”

“But what do you mean?” persisted Mr. Forbes. Why do you call me Eddie?”

“Oh,” and Dolly laughed, “that’s a slang phrase that people say when they see through a joke.”

“Joke, miss! Are you making fun of my antiques? Explain yourself!”

“Yes, what DO you mean, Dolly?” said Dotty, anxiously; “you can’t mean to insult Mr. Forbes.”

“You goosies!” cried Dolly, “he’s fooling you. It’s a joke on us.”

“What is? What’s a joke?”

“This mummy,” and now Mr. Forbes had joined in Dolly’s laughter.

“You’re a cute one!” he said. “Not one person in a dozen catches on to that. Tell ‘em, my dear. Oh, you are a smart one!”

Mr. Forbes shook with glee, and Dolly held up the image to the mystified girls.

“Don’t you see, you blindies, the date 537 B. C. couldn’t have been put on in the year 537 B. C.?”

“Why not?” asked Alicia, looking blank.

“Why, at that time they didn’t know how many years it would be before Christ’s birth. Nobody dated anything B. C. until after the Christian Era had begun.”

“But why didn’t they?” and Bernice also looked bewildered.

“Think a minute, you sillies. Nobody knew the exact date of the year one until after the year one was here. In fact, I don’t think they began to count right away, anyhow. But certainly they didn’t know five hundred and thirty-seven years before!”

“Oh, I see!” cried Bernice. “All the B. C. years have been computed or dated since the A. D. years began.”

“Of course they have, and Mr. Forbes had the date carved on this mummy on purpose to fool people. Didn’t you?”

“Yes,” chuckled Mr. Forbes, “and it has fooled lots of people older and wiser than you, little Dolly Fayre! I think you’re pretty smart to notice the fraud!”

“Oh, no. But it just happened to occur to me that I’d never seen a B. C. date marked before, and then I thought at once that it couldn’t be.”

“Pretty cute, all the same. You other girls didn’t see it.”

“No, we didn’t,” admitted Dotty. “I own up I was fooled. I never thought of the absurdity of the thing. Did you make up the joke?”

“No, I bought the mummy from a dealer who sold a few of them for the purpose of fun-making. It’s a pretty good joke.”

It was, and though the girls felt a little chagrined at being taken in, they were generous enough to appreciate Dolly’s cleverness and be glad of it.

A case of antique jewellery proved interesting to all. The queer ornaments worn by the ancients were admired and studied by the girls, and Mr. Forbes enjoyed telling of their histories.

“This earring,” he said, “is perhaps the gem of the whole collection. It is Byzantine, and is of wonderfully delicate workmanship.” The filigree gold ornament, was a long and slender pendant, of intricate gold work and studded with tiny jewels. It was one of a pair of earrings, and they wondered where its mate might be, if indeed, it was yet in existence.

“It would make a fine lavalliere,” said Dolly, holding it up against her chest, and glancing in a nearby mirror. “See!” and she hooked the trinket into the lace at her throat, “isn’t it becoming?”

“Very,” laughed Bernice, and turned to see what Dotty was now exclaiming over.

It proved to be a bracelet, that legend said had been worn by Cleopatra, though Mr. Forbes frankly acknowledged he didn’t believe this.

“Let me take it by the light,” said Alicia, “it’s getting dusk in here.”

She took the bracelet to the open window, and admired the beauty of its wrought gold.

“Here, take it, Uncle Jeff,” she said; “I declare I’m almost afraid to handle these valuable things for fear I should suddenly become a klep-what-do-you-call-it?”

“Kleptomaniac?” said her uncle, laughing, “I’m not afraid, or I shouldn’t have brought you girls up here. I don’t mind admitting I have one friend, a wise old octogenarian, rich as Croesus, whom I wouldn’t trust up here alone! He’d steal a gem as quickly as a highway robber would!”

“How awful!” said Bernice. “Just because of his craze for antiques?”

“Yes. You know some people are carried quite out of themselves by a pet hobby. Well, girls, it is getting dusk. Let’s go downstairs, and have a little chat over what you’ve seen. I’d like to see how much you remember of what I’ve told you.”

“Shall I shut the window, Uncle Jeff?” asked Bernice.

“No, leave it open. A little air will do the room good. I’ll see to it later.”

The girls left the room, Mr. Forbes followed, and locking the door, pocketed the key, and they all went downstairs.