DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.27180#0188
PYRAMID AND TEMPLE
‘Extremely!’
Beermann nodded. The yellow lady and the nurse were
coming out of the lift. The nurse ordered a whisky.
‘No,’ said Beermann very emphatically, ‘it must have
come overland.’
Schacht, with the caution due to a colleague, held his
peace. I pointed out that the alligator’s dachshund-like
pedals would make locomotion on foot too slow an affair to
allow him to escape our notice, especially near the dam. The
doctor, however, believes quite other things to be possible.
‘Why of course!’ says the blond. (She has kept to her
room since the adventure).
‘For crocodiles,’ continued the doctor (he has a quaint
way of saying crocodile ... a flowery way, I should call it)
‘. . . crocodiles are able to change their nature.’
‘How?’ asked the nurse.
‘Why not?’ demanded the blond, with spirit, while
Babuschka, who was not in a position to kick my foot, tried
to catch my eye.
Beermann ordered a whisky. Two metres was his length
for the crocodile, and now it turned out to be one metre,
seventeen. The possibility of shrinkage so far observed in
mammals is comparatively slight and moreover it does not
happen in a few days.
Perhaps the crocodile will reach two metres when it’s
stuffed, I suggested; and told them how Hama, our dearly
beloved Japanese setter, had been run over by a bus and had
come back from being stuffed in the shape of a mastiff.
Schacht asked for the Jger,
‘Very well,’ said Beermann; and now comes the denoue-
ment.
Crocodile-hunting at Assuan is a drama reserved for
strangers, a puppet-show and, as such, more modern than
those customary festivals at home, at Oberammergau,
Bayreuth, and Salzburg, which are carried out by living
168
‘Extremely!’
Beermann nodded. The yellow lady and the nurse were
coming out of the lift. The nurse ordered a whisky.
‘No,’ said Beermann very emphatically, ‘it must have
come overland.’
Schacht, with the caution due to a colleague, held his
peace. I pointed out that the alligator’s dachshund-like
pedals would make locomotion on foot too slow an affair to
allow him to escape our notice, especially near the dam. The
doctor, however, believes quite other things to be possible.
‘Why of course!’ says the blond. (She has kept to her
room since the adventure).
‘For crocodiles,’ continued the doctor (he has a quaint
way of saying crocodile ... a flowery way, I should call it)
‘. . . crocodiles are able to change their nature.’
‘How?’ asked the nurse.
‘Why not?’ demanded the blond, with spirit, while
Babuschka, who was not in a position to kick my foot, tried
to catch my eye.
Beermann ordered a whisky. Two metres was his length
for the crocodile, and now it turned out to be one metre,
seventeen. The possibility of shrinkage so far observed in
mammals is comparatively slight and moreover it does not
happen in a few days.
Perhaps the crocodile will reach two metres when it’s
stuffed, I suggested; and told them how Hama, our dearly
beloved Japanese setter, had been run over by a bus and had
come back from being stuffed in the shape of a mastiff.
Schacht asked for the Jger,
‘Very well,’ said Beermann; and now comes the denoue-
ment.
Crocodile-hunting at Assuan is a drama reserved for
strangers, a puppet-show and, as such, more modern than
those customary festivals at home, at Oberammergau,
Bayreuth, and Salzburg, which are carried out by living
168