human
Well,
gpt
I'm looking for the bone man,
human
You're in the wrong museum, you want the dime kind.
gpt
No, I don't. I want the bone professor.
human
O, the bone professor, eh? Well, I'm the man, he said, while the suspicion of a smile crossed the pale features.
gpt
What's wanted?
human
Got a bunch of bones out here for you, great stuff, too.
gpt
Whose bones?
human
O, it's something that will interest you. I've presented them to the Museum.
gpt
You have, eh? That's kind of you. Didn't you think we had enough?
human
O, but you've got nothing like these. These are the whitest bones you ever saw, belonged to a prehistoric horse or something of that kind. Don't you read the _News_? Take a look at them. Where do you want them put?
gpt
This is a poor joke, said the professor, the danger light beginning to flash in his eye.
human
Take them out of this.
gpt
Why, aren't they good bones? Didn't they belong to a prehistoric horse?
human
A prehistoric jackass, and you are a direct descendant, shouted the professor.
gpt
I won't have you or your bones around here. You've dug up a domestic animal cemetery somewhere. Off with them,
human
And to think that I paid ten dollars to get them here, reflected the Codfish.
gpt
Science can go hang in the future. Here, to the driver of the wagon,
human
It'll take five dollars to lose it right,
gpt
It's worth five to have it lost, said the Codfish as he went into his pocket for the necessary bill,
human
We'll take it to the soap factory, eh?
gpt
No chance, said the Codfish gloomily.
human
The bones are not old enough for the Museum and too old for the factory. Eat them if you want to, only get rid of them somehow. I'm off, and he strode out to High street in a rage. But the Codfish had the newspaper man's sense, and that night wrote an article for his paper which explained that the find was only