Our Holiday in the East ... Edited by ... G. H. Sumner

Preface

. A VISIT to the East — and especially to those Oriental lands consecrated by their con nection with Biblical history — has for long been a dream which both my wife and I earnestly desired should one day become a reality. During the spring of this year we were able to carry out these long cherished wishes, and, with our daughter and a few friends, to visit localities familiar to us all by name from our earliest childhood, and rendered dear by their association with the Sacred Story of our Lord's Life on earth. My wife has endeavoured in the following pages, by enlarging her journal written at the time, to convey to others an idea of the scenes which gave us such intense pleasure. She has VI

PREFACE.

. had much diffidence in publishing this sketch of our travels, and I do not know that she would have ventured to do so at all if, on our return home, our friends had not inundated us with questions which showed that, to many persons at any rate, a few details of our tour would not be without interest. No attempt has been made to solve any of the knotty questions con nected with disputed holy sites in Palestine, for our stay in the East was not sufficiently pro longed to enable us to enter upon such contro verted topics. If some degree of the pleasure which she has experienced in writing, and which I have also felt in editing, the records of that happy time be shared by her readers, her object will be fully accomplished. GEORGE HENRY SUMNER. Old Alresford Rectory, Hants. Christmas, 1880. CONTENTS.

Chapter I

— EASTWARD BOUND. Start for tho East — Life on Board the Pcra — Landing at Alexandria — Novel Experiences — Introduction to our Dragoman, Michel-el-Haui — Varied Nationalities at Alexandria — Historical Reminiscences — Removal of Pompey's Pillar — Railway to Cairo — Aspect of the Country — Tho Natives — The Villages— Donkey-riding in Cairo — Fascination of the Place — The Syces, Bazaars, and Mode of Bargaining — The Pyramids — The Sphinx 3

Chapter II

— CAIRO TO JAFFA. Sunday at Cairo — Mosque of Mehemet Ali — Old Cairo — Heliopolis — Ancient Obelisk — The Virgin's Well — Miss Whateley's Mission School — Difficulties Gradually Surmounted — Gross Superstition of the Dervishes — Introduction to the Wife of the Khedive — Court Customs — Mahmoud Pasha's Hareem — The Condition of the Labouring Classes — Bridal Processions — Customs with Regard to Prayer — The Scavengers of Cairo — The Nile — The Way in which it Irrigates and Fertilizes the Country — Railway to Ismailia — Aspect of the Desert — Suez Canal — The Mirage — Arrival at Port Said — Violent Storm — Arrival at Jaffa 37 CHAPTER HI.— THE HOLY LAND. Difficult Landing at Jaffa — First Introduction to Tent Life — Unexpected Comforts — House of Simon the Tanner — En Route for Lydda — Road to Jerusalem — Orange and Lemon CONTENTS.

Groves — The Plain of Sharon — Beauty of the Flowers — Our First Mid-day Halt — Ramleh — Lydda — Night Experiences — General Order of Marching — Filth of Lydda — St George's Church — Beth-horon — View from the Sheikh's House — Gibeon — Neby Samwil — First View of Jerusalem — Desolate Appearance of the Country — Suicidal Policy of the Govern ment .69

Chapter IV

— JERUSALEM. First Thoughts on Reaching Jerusalem — Encampment Outside the Damascus Gate, near the Supposed Site of the Crucifixion — The Church of the Holy Sepulchre, Common to Roman Catholics, Greeks, Copts, and Armenians — Holy Places in the Church — Reverence of the Pilgrims — Regiment of Turkish Soldiers to Keep Order in the Church — Sale of Curiosities Outside the Church — The Citadel — The Plaram — Kubbet-es-Sakhra — Mosque-el- Aksa — Subterranean Vaults — The Golden Gate — Pool of Bethesda — Palm Sunday — Walk to and from Bethany — View of Jerusalem — Joab's Well — Flow of Water— Group of Lepers — Jewish Funeral Procession — Plans for our Expedition to the Dead Sea . 93

Chapter V

— JERICHO AND THE DEAD SEA. Arrangements for the Journey to the Jordan — Sheikh of Abudis takes the Party in Charge — Road from Jerusalem to Jericho — Flora of Judæa— Native Mode of Sport — Jericho — Elisha's Fountain — Native Dance — Modern Jericho — Bedoueen Salutation — The Dead Sea — Fords of the Jordan — An Alarm — Adventure in Crossing the Cherith — Return to Jerusalem — Mohammedan at Prayer — Camp in the Karama Sheikh . 117

Chapter VI

— JERUSALEM. Good Friday at Jerusalem — The Cœnaculum — The Jews' Wailing-place — Affecting Scene — Celebration of the Passover — Arch of the Ecce Homo — The Church of the Holy Sepulchre — Easter Services — Visit to the Convent of Marsaba Bethlehem — Church of the Nativity — Site of Our Lord's CONTENTS. VIII Birth — St. Jerome's Grotto — Domestic Troubles — Visit to a Sheikh — Garden of Gethsemane — Preparations for Leaving Jerusalem 143

Chapter VII

— JERUSALEM TO NAZARETH. Departure from Jerusalem— Ramah — Beeroth — Bethel— Encampment at Sinjil — Threatening Aspect of a Bedoueen — Jacob's Well — Nablous — Mounts Ebal and Gerizim — Mission Work at Nablous — The Samaritan Pentateuch — Samaria — Wonderful Ruins — Fulfilment of Prophecy — Dothan — Joseph's Well— Camp at Jenin — Plain of Esdraelon — Gideon's Well — Jezreel — Shunem — Nain 175

Chapter VIII

— NAZARETH TO SYRIA. Situation of Nazareth — Why left so Inaccessible — The Virgin's Fountain — Beauty of the Women — Sunday at Nazareth — View from the Hill above the Town — Concourse of Russian Pilgrims — The Holy Sites at Nazareth — Cana of Galilee — Tiberias — Camp by the Lake — Contrast of the Present with the Past — Disputed Sites of Capernaum, Bethsaida, and Chorazin — We Camp at Kalm-Minyeh — Storm on the Lake — A Quiet Morning — Safed, " The City set on an Hill " — Bedoueen Encampment — A Metawileh Sheikh — Algerine Colony at Deshun — Distribution of Meat — Kadesh Naphtali — Vandalism — Dan — Source of the Jordan — Scene of Rob Roy's Capture — Banias — We Leave the Holy Land . 203

Chapter IX

— DAMASCUS. Farewell to Palestine — Bitumen Works — Maronite and Druse Women — The Rival Sects — The Massacre of 1860 — Sunday at Hasbeya — Source of the Jordan — Rasheya — Welcome by School-children — Ruins of Rukleh and Deir-el-Ashayir — Hurricane at Dimas — Night in the Khan — Beauty of the Abana — First View of Damascus — Dimitri's Hotel — The Great Mosque— Bazaars — Visit to Abd-el-Kadir and the Grand Mufti — Houses of Damascus — Ali Bey's Hareem— Summary Justice — Burial-grounds — The " Street called CONTENTS. Straight" — Mission Work in Damascus — Dancing Dervishes 241

Chapter X

— DAMASCUS TO BEYROUT. Departure from Damascus — Halt at Ain-Fijeh — Beauty of the Barada — Camp at Suk-Wady-Barada and Yahfufeh — Wonderful Colouring of the Buka'a Plain — We Reach Baalbek — Magnificent Ruins — Massive Stones — Interior of a Native House at Baalbek — Zachleh — Lovely Camp — Regret at its being our Last — Backsheesh Distributed — The Lebanon Pass — First Sight of Beyrout — Our Dragoman's Family — Mrs. Mott's Schools, Mothers' Meetings, etc. — Persecution of Christians — Interesting Service on Sunday — Native Hareem — Bridal Customs — General Dislike of the Turkish Government — Farewell to Syria 281

CHAPTER XL

— WESTWARD HO ! Cyprus : Improved by English Occupation — Third-class Passengers on the Hungaria — Beauty of Rhodes — A Day at Smyrna — Sunday at Syra — Greek Easter — Arrival at Athens — Mars' Hill — The Parthenon — Restoration of the Elgin Marbles — Funeral Procession — Through the Dardanelles to Constantinople — Lovely View of the City — The Sultan at His Devotions — Assemblage of Fashionables at "The Sweet Waters " — The Mosque of St. Sophia — Cemetery at Scutari Well Kept — Magnificence of the Dolma-Batchi Palace — We Leave Constantinople for Varna — Aspect of the Bulgarians — From Rustchuk to Bucharest — We Reach Vienna via Buda-Pesth — Arrival in England .... 315 ILLUSTRATIONS. Frontispiece — " Mount Tabor." Vignette — " Arab and Dromedary." From Photographs published by F. Frith & Co.

Chapter I. Eastward Bound

START FOR THE EAST — LIFE ON BOARD "THE PERA " — LANDING AT ALEXANDRIA — NOVEL EXPERIENCES —

Introduction

TO OUR DRA GOMAN, MICHEL-EL-HANI — VARIED NATIONALITIES AT ALEX ANDRIA — HISTORICAL REMINISCENCES — REMOVAL OF POMPEY'S PILLAR — RAILWAY TO CAIRO — ASPECT OF THE COUNTRY — THE NATIVES — THE VILLAGES — DONKEY-RIDING IN CAIRO—FASCINA TION OF THE PLACE — THE SYCES, BAZAARS, AND MODE OF BAR GAINING—THE PYRAMIDS— THE SPHINX. li

CHAPTER I.

S~YN Monday, February 23rd, 18S0, our party, consisting of my cousin and niece Mr. and Miss Heywood, two friends Mr. and Miss Scudamore Stanhope, my husband, my daughter, and myself, started for the East. We glided out of the Charing Cross Station into the thick, foggy, evening gloom, followed by hearty good wishes for the success of our pilgrimage to the Holy Land on the part of kind friends who had come to see us off. A week's run across Europe brought us to Brindisi, and we found ourselves on board the Peninsular and Oriental steamer, Pera, a well appointed vessel, clean and comfortable. The discipline on board was almost of a man-of-war character. Captain Hyde, who commanded the steamer, had at one time been in the Queen's b OUR HOLIDAY IN THE EAST. service, and had evidently Dot forgotten the lessons learned there.

He was always followed at a distance of a few yards by a little sailor-boy in spotless white trousers, ready at a moment's notice to carry his commands to the other end of the vessel. The boy's orders were never to stand in front of the captain, and his manœuvres to keep in the rear were very droll, and an endless source of amusement. He revolved round him like a satellite. As the captain turned, the boy turned ; when the captain stopped, the boy stopped ; and the only time when we saw him relax from this rigid conformity to duty was on one occasion when the captain was enjoying an afternoon siesta, and the little fellow, taking advantage of the situation, indulged in a furtive run on his own account. Our boat carried the mail-bags, and the accumulation of letters and newspapers was marvel lous.

There were no fewer than six hundred and thirty large sackfuls for India, China, and Aus tralia. It took two hours to get this literary cargo on board at Brindisi ; for, with an incon ceivable want of energy on the part of the Italians, the train from Bologna disgorges its contents THE ADRIATIC. about a quarter of a mile from the quay, so that all the mail-bags have first to be packed in mule carts, and then once more unloaded to be brought on board ship. Bepresentations on the subject have been made over and over again to the proper authorities, but hitherto without effect. Brindisi is a dreary place, and we were glad to steam away into the blue Adriatic, past the Castle of Otranto, with the Italian coast full in view. Next morning we were within eight or ten miles of the Morea ; the Bay of Navarino was before us, and the beautiful outline of the Greek coast stretched far away towards the South.

The mountains of the Morea looked very lovely, piled up one behind the other, with the snow glittering on their summits ; but the land seemed bare and desolate, and the only signs of life were small villages at rare intervals nestling under the great hills. Late in the afternoon we passed Cape Matapan and the Island of Cerigo (the ancient Cythera), and bade farewell to Greece. The next morning, when we came on deck, Crete was nearly out of sight. We glided along over the placid, lake-like, still, and waveless sea in a sort of dreamy way which 0DK HOLIDAY IN THE EAST. was very delicious, and a party of us sat from time to time on the poop, singing, reciting, reading, talking, and rejoicing over our good fortune in having such a passage. We saw very little shipping, not more than three or four sail in the course of twelve hours.

Sea-gulls were our only companions, for ever hovering over us, gleaming like silver in the sunshine as they whirled round and round in graceful sweeps, enjoying life to the utmost. It was at two o'clock on the afternoon of the 4th of March that we anchored off Alexandria, and our eyes first opened upon Eastern colouring. Alexandria looked like a golden city, lying on a golden shore between two great bands of blue — the sky and the sea. It stood out sharp and clear, with its palm-trees and minarets, against the sky-line, like a picture of Goodall's — hot, dry, and arid, but very wonderful aud beautiful to northern eyes accustomed for so long to clouds and sunlessness. As soon as we anchored, crowds of gay little boats and boatmen buzzed round our vessel, and a rabble of Arabs came on board dressed in full white trousers and tunics of green, blue, or scarlet, with turbans or tar- ARRIVAL AT ALEXANDRIA. 7 bouches on their heads, and at once changed the quiet and decorum of our stately vessel into a Babel-like confusion.

The men hustled, bustled, chattered, shouted, and gesticulated. They fought one with another over the luggage, struggling, OO O ' OO D' pushing, and screaming like lunatics. Before leaving England we had engaged the services of a dragoman for the Holy Land, who had been privately recommended to us — Michel- El-Hani. He had written to say that he would meet us at Alexandria, and he soon came on board from one of the boats, and we felt our hands grasped by a stranger, a tall, dark Syrian, in European dress, with a fine eager face. From that moment we belonged to him, and he to us, and most carefully and successfully did he pioneer us through all our journeys. At this particular moment he extricated us triumphantly from the pandemonium, and we were soon, under his pro tection, safely landed.* * Michel-El- Hani, of whom it is impossible to speak too highly, was dragoman to " Rob Roy," when canoeing on the Jordan.

Mr. Macgregor thus speaks of him — " At Ismailia there met me the brave and faithful companion of my future journey, Michael Hani, well known to me as my dragoman in 1849, frequently trusted since by large parties sent to his charge ; most welcome now as the man without whose aid I could scarcely have ventured to take the Rob Roy through the journey we are about to relate." — "Rob Roy" on the Jordan, p. 16. A crowd of Alexandrians, dirty, and sparsely clad, received us as we landed on the shore of Egypt. Their one shout was " Backsheesh !" — " Give us something !" This, indeed, is the first and the last word you hear in the East ; it is the first cry of the Oriental infant, and the last whine of the aged ; it is hurled with a loud voice at you from the fields, even as you whirl by in a railway train, and pervades all classes, from the Pasha down to the poor leper.

The sound of it is never ceasing. It meets you everywhere. On this particular occasion backsheesh stood us in good stead, for the administration of a few francs by Hani enabled us to pass without question through the shabby, dirty out-houses on the wharf, which served as the custom-house. It is quite impossible to convey even a faint idea of the wonders of Eastern life and colouring. We felt very much as if we had waked up in another planet. The aspect of everything was so abso lutely different from more conventional Europe, with its darker skies, its duller colouring, and its unpicturesque style of dress ; and, merely from an artistic point of view, this first introduction to the land of Egypt was full of interest aud delight. CLIMATE OF EGYPT. We walked through the streets of Alexandria in a sort of dream, gazing at jet black Nubians, gaily dressed Turks, yellowslippered Persians, veiled women, and picturesque figures of all ages and varied nationalities, attired in dresses of bright, beautiful colours, and with drapery hanging in graceful folds over their lithesome figures.

The very beggars throw their rags about them in artistic fashion. Over all this scene the sun reigned supreme, lighting up land and sea with a brilliancy so in tense and vivid that it is quite indescribable. The heat was overwhelming. We had left England in a cold, dark fog, and now we suddenly found ourselves in blazing heat under a fierce sun and cloudless sky. The change was magical. The cry on board the Pera had been, " Oh for the sun ! we have not seen it for weeks !" or, " I am flying to the sunny south in search of warmth. I can bear the chill darkness of our climate no longer." And here we were basking in tropical heat and glare, with dust and flat roofs, palm-trees, dark ened houses, and mosquito curtains, and with an exquisite feeling of being in a new world, which opened out like a revelation to us.

After four days at sea, the sense of terra firma, the memory of a successful voyage, letters of good news from home, and the novelty of Eastern life made us all very happy. From the windows of our hotel we looked out on to gardens filled with tropical plants, palms, and tamarisk-trees, intermingled with flat-roofed houses, veiled wo men and picturesque men, while camels, and don keys in smart trappings crowded the streets, and, as we passed through the corridors of the hotel, black youths, clad in loose white garments, — the housemaids of the establishment, — salaamed re spectfully whenever we came near them. There is little in modern Alexandria of special interest, but it is rich in historic memories, and dear to the Church of Christ in connection with the noble stand made by St. Athanasius against the Arian heresies, and as the birth-place of Apollos, that " certain Jew," so eloquent and mighty in the Scriptures, so fervent in spirit, who must have been such an infinite joy and comfort to the great apostle of the Gentiles, with his burning enthusiasm and his craving for human sympathy.

We drove about the town, and went to see THE DELTA OF THE NILE. Pompey's pillar: a monolith, with a Corinthian capital, of exquisitely beautiful proportions. A background of graceful palm-trees made it look quite lovely. The Egyptian government have recently pre sented to the city of New York an obelisk very similar to Cleopatra's Needle : which was being packed for transmission to America when we were at Alexandria. It certainly does seem a great pity that these national monuments should be removed from their native soil ; but, in talking to the very courteous American who was super intending the removal of the column, we felt that, when we called to mind the Thames Embankment and Cleopatra's Needle, our lips, at any rate, were closed on the subject. The next day saw us en route for Cairo, one hundred and thirty miles by rail.

The whole line through the Delta of the Nile — — the green region of Egypt — is deeply interesting to a stranger, although the country is flat and ugly, and the palm and tamarisk-trees are few and far between, and there is nothing to shade from the heat, or to relieve from the glare of the sun's rays. The crops are very green, and land seems rich and fertile. The effect of the water of the Nile upon the desert is simply magical. Irrigate the land, and it at once brings forth abundant crops. The owners of the soil are well aware of this, and from the train we saw on all sides the peasants actively engaged in directing the streams of water aright. They were wonderfully busy ploughing the ground with a yoke of oxen, harnessed to straight wooden ploughs such as you see in Scriptural pictures. A beaten track, which serves as a road, runs along by the side of the railway from Alexandria to Cairo.

It happened to be Friday, the Moslem sabbath, when we passed in the train. The road was crowded with people ; some walking, some riding donkeys, some on camels. The stations, too, were filled with fellaheen of the poorest class. It seemed to be the sabbath lounge. Many were in rags and tatters ; many were trying to sell their wares, oranges, lettuces, or water. The Arab villages which we passed are deplor able. They look as if a number of boxes were piled up one behind another. Each adobe, or mud-baked cabin, has one door, but no window, EGYPTIAN PEASANTS. and a flat roof covered with reeds or roughly tempered mud. Large heaps of dusty refuse are banked up around them on every side ; children of all ages and degrees of nudeness roll about on the dust heaps ; scavenger dogs prowl in and out, or lie sleeping in the sun.

Groups of camels and donkeys, picturesque-looking men wearing the abba (a coarse, woollen outer garment, with broad white and brown stripes), and gracefully draped women carrying large water-jars, like the pictures of Bebekah at the well, move about amidst filth and squalor, and under feathery palm-trees. There is gener ally a group of these trees near each village. We were told that the "fellaheen," or Egyptian peasants, are really well off, in spite of appear ances to the contrary, and that they accumulate money, which they hide in the ground. They pay a tax of ten shillings a year on every donkey, sixteen shillings for a camel, and a pound for every horse. Their wants seem very few, and they have no luxuries. They live on coarse bread, eggs, cheese, rice, lentils, vegetables, fruit, and raw sugar-cane ; they drink cold water and milk, and seem to thrive on the simple fare. contrast of grace and beauty in dress and form, combined with degradation of habits, is most extraordinary.

The people are hand some and well made. They have very commonly a lofty bearing and noble countenances, not un like those which are found on old Egyptian bas-reliefs of the ancient worshippers of Osiris, and they drape themselves so artistically that it is a pleasure to look at them. Then, on the other hand, how they can live in such degrading dirt, and with habits so uncivilised, is almost in conceivable to a European. Both the cotton and the corn crops of 1879 were most abundant, and the natives seem quiet and contented under the rule of the present Khedive. They appear to have confidence in the quasi-European protection which they enjoy. The country is certainly advancing rapidly in prosperity. The imports of 1879 at £5,130,000 show an advance of £200,000, and the exports in the same year have leaped from £S,304,000 to £13,783,000.

Of this sum cotton supplies £9,676,000, the remainder consisting of wheat, rice, barley, lentils, ostrich feathers, elephant teeth, &c. CAIRO. 15 Almost the first object which met our view on entering Cairo was the figure of a very tall Eng lish fellow-traveller, riding on an exceedingly small donkey — so small, indeed, that it was diffi cult to be quite sure whether he was walking with the donkey under him, or whether the donkey was in any way supporting him. A very lightly clothed, mahogany-coloured boy, with a long stick, was urging on the animal, till it broke into a gallop, and the appearance of our tall friend was very comical. He had already prepared us for this kind of locomotion, and had pointed out the peculiar advantage of it — that, if at any moment you prefer walking, you have only to put your feet down to the ground, let the donkey go on from under you, and quietly pursue your own way.

In point of fact, the donkeys of Cairo play the part of hansom cabs in London. It may be said broadly that no gentleman, if unaccom panied by ladies, uses any other means of loco motion. A donkey-boy always runs behind, making the most extraordinary noises in order to urge his donkey on, and also to warn foot passengers of the dangers they incur if they obstruct his onward progress. Occasionally, too, when the rider is inwardly congratulating himself upon the successful way in which he is balancing himself upon his quadruped, a violent blow from behind on the legs of his unfortunate animal disturbs his tranquillity, and oftentimes his equilibrium also. The movement of the donkey under these trying circumstances is not unlike that of a cab suddenly swerving to one side when caught in the groove of a tram-car.

One word about the donkey-boys. They are quite an institution of Cairo, and as full of fun as an Irish car-driver. The way in which they puff off the qualities of their donkeys is irresisti ble. " Mine vary good donkey, saar." " Take mine, saar." " Mine Dr. Kenealy — mine best, saar," and so on. Cairo is a town which fairly takes the traveller by storm. Whether he will or not, he surrenders sooner or later to its captivating influences. You are in the midst of Oriental magnificence united with European luxuries. You go out into the bazaars, and revel in all the glories of colouring for which the Eastern nations are so conspicuous. You fancy yourself living in the days of the Arabian Nights, and you return to your hotel BEAUTY OP CAIRO. to enjoy all the comforts of modern civilization. Nowhere are the two so closely united.

Damas cus, which is sometimes compared with Cairo, falls far short of it in this respect. Damascus is a city whose prime is passed. Fanaticism, and the baneful influences of an infamous govern ment, have shorn her of her splendour. But Cairo is a rising city. The late Khedive has been much abused, but he certainly did a great deal to advance the national prosperity and civilization of Egypt. Cairo responds to good treat ment, and trade and commerce flourish. The New Grand Hotel, at which we stayed in Cairo, was built by the late Khedive to take in some of the many notabilities who came to Egypt for the opening of the Suez Canal. It is a fine European hotel, clean and well appointed, situated in one of the principal thoroughfares of Cairo. The gardens in front are filled with lovely flowers and shrubs — brugmantias, and bananas twenty feet high, bright purple bougainvilleas streaming in a profusion of festoons, salvias, tree mallows, fan-shaped palms, roses, and geraniums.

It is all very lovely, and the view from the balcony is most charming — the public gardens, the town o and citadel, mosques and minarets, the for-ever passing crowd of walkers, and riders, and drivers, the carriages with running syces, and an endless succession of picturesque figures, "like slides in a magic lantern. A word must be said about these running syces of Cairo, for they are a great element of beauty in the streets, clad in fine white garments, bound round the waist with a sash, long loose sleeves, which, as they run, are caught by the wind, and have the effect of wings, gold-embroidered waistcoat of scarlet or blue, white full trousers reaching to the knee, with bare legs and feet. They carry a long cane in their hands, and run in front of the carriages, shouting, " Ouah ! ouah !" — " Make way ! make way !"

They are lithesome and agile young fellows, and the streets are so crowded from morning to night (for every one lives in the open air) that these runners are not so much a luxury, as a necessity. They generally get up on the box of the carriage, or behind it, if you go outside the town. It was not long after our arrival before we sallied forth to reconnoitre the bazaars. Who has not hoard and read of the bazaars of the East ! BAZAARS OF CAIRO. 19 And yet there are few scenes more difficult to realize. The whole thing is so absolutely differ ent from anything you ever see in Europe. It upsets so entirely all your pre-conceived ideas as to sale and purchase. Everything is done by contraries. The seller, instead of displaying his wares, very frequently — always, if of value — con ceals them in the recesses of an iron safe, which is opened with difficulty and reluctance.

Tho shopman sits, the buyer stands. The waresman puts on the most nonchalant air, as if the con clusion of any transaction in the way of trade was the very last thing which would occupy his thoughts. The principal street in which the bazaars are is called the Mouski. It is long and narrow, un paved, and on wet days, therefore, ankle-deep in mud. But "it never rains at Cairo," as the saying is, and so the dust is a more tangible evil than the mud. All the various shopkeepers belonging to one trade congregate in the same quarter, so that if you want to make various purchases of different articles, you have to pass, not merely from shop to shop, but from quarter to quarter. At one moment you are bewildered c by gay horse-trappings and magnificent saddles, which are displayed prominently to tempt the native riders, — they delight in colour, — and the saddles really are most gorgeous.