took to him. But I had passed my word, you see.'
'Wot is this bloomin' drivel?' interrupted the clerk. 'It's like the rot there is in tracts.'
'It's a story; I used to tell them to the kids at home,' said Herrick. 'If it bores you, I'll drop it.'
'O, cut along!' returned the sick man, irritably. 'It's better than nothing.'
'Well,' continued Herrick, 'I had no sooner given him the cough mixture than he seemed to straighten up and change, and I saw he wasn't a Tahitian after all, but some kind of Arab, and had a long beard on his chin. "One good turn deserves another," says he. "I am a magician out of the Arabian Nights, and this mat that I have under my arm is the original carpet of Mohammed Ben Somebody-or-other. Say the word, and you can have a cruise upon the carpet." "You don't mean to say this is the Travelling Carpet?" I cried. "You bet I do," said he. "You've been to America since last I read the Arabian Nights," said I, a little suspicious. "I should think so," said he. "Been everywhere. A man with a carpet like this isn't going to moulder in a semi-detached villa." Well, that struck me as reasonable. "All right," I said; "and do you mean to tell
