found petrified tea leaf diary

[excerpts of un-earthed long lost diary of a Professor Montrose K. Higgens, noted meek Twentieth Century Archeologist]

Tuesday, June 18th, 1929

Pretty much same as yesterday, although stagnant dust down here in central catacomb more irritable to my inner ear. Dressler, claiming more credit than ever since discovery of first stoned tea leaf, in all his heaving bulk like Babe Ruth on a hot dog eating binge in the dugout, is irritable as always. His wheezing after shuffling only a few feet is monotonous, although I suppose I could always find him useful in future as a canary in a mine. A 380 pound canary.
Worth noting?: on way down stone steps, in the beam of my torch, never noticed it before, discovered puzzling hieroglyphic of one-eyed magpie grasping some unfamiliar writing tool in its beak. What in the Sam Hill did magpies and script have in common thousands and thousands of years ago? Puzzling.


Wednesday, June 19th, 1929

Beloved, Oh, I miss your smile. And sweet clear blue Summer afternoons dancing with you, Beloved, on the rotted gazebo like nobody was watching. And, in the night, the way you gasped when shooting stars fell.

Thursday, June 20th, 1929

Nothing to note today, except, I suppose, I thought I heard humming similar to ‘ Camptown Ladies’ from the mummy’s tomb behind me. Dressler thinks I’m a wing nut. Can’t say I blame him, but sweet mother-of-pearl it surely raised the hair on the back of my neck. Turned work bench facing tomb. Will start carrying loaded gun tomorrow.

Friday, June 21st, 1929

[Last known entry. Indistinguishable smudged ink mostly, except..]…and Dressler all bent out of shape [smudged] caught me using his toothbrush clearing away finer debris from my prized discovery. I said brushing brings out the finite green tint like his [smudged], and I’d buy him a new toothbrush once we sailed back to States in October, but he remains humorless and catatonic, sat reeking of kerosene with those deep vacant eyes.
Tomorrow, Saturday, I’m going to pry open the hummer’s tomb, shove him in, and nail the lid.
Bastard.