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Show Jeffries, Section 3, Page 91 pigeon. And now, you poor things, 'Captain Bradbury won't take us'--suppose we sink this boat?" They regaled him with an ancient story. "--thus, on his first try, casting his net into the sea, the poor fisherman hauled up a dead jackass." "Hauled up a what?" "On the second effort, he's caught a pitcher full of sand and mud." "Yeah but the third time." "No, again he casts his net, but only bits of broken pots, glass. . . "Once more still, and he's fetched up a copper jar." "About as useful as the pitcher." "No but sealed, you see. A mysterious old copper jar, a cork stopper. . ." "This is about halfway interesting," Captain Hanaman conceded, his eyes on a channel buoy. A captive djinn, dull eyes lit, tracing the dark grains of his bottle. . . "Very well, old man, dare you open the jar?" the dervish asked with some passion. "Anymore there's pressure to check with this here Florida department of antiquities--" "You open the jar," Marabout continued coldly, "a colored gas puffs out, soon a cloud frowns down at you--" |