"But there, the bell goes, and the starters begin to file out of
the gate as they struggle out of the seething mass. Away down the
course to the starting point; and here the starter will no doubt
have his work cut out. A variegated crowd is lining the rails on
the opposite side of the track. Turbaned Abduls and Yussefs, boys
and little girls, men and donkeys, fruit-sellers, arabiyehs,
camels, all in brightest colours and a pandemonium of noise. Stray
pi-dogs are continually being warned off the course, and venerable
Arab Sheiks who don't understand, and start for a nice walk along
the wide grass track. Yes, there is plenty for the smart military
policemen to do, and their burnished swords and bright shoulder
epaulets flash in the sun as they 'chivvy' the crowd out of danger.
In the officers' enclosure there are many strange types. Abdul
Achmed Yussef is there with a scimitar in one hand like the Sultan
of Turkey, and a huge white umbrella in the other hand, and on his
head he wears a red tarbush. _Iskanderianabedian_ is there with his
fat wife, and two fat daughters, all the latter in black silk gowns
and white silk stockings, and if the girls' ankles aren't as thick
as my calves, call me a liar, but this is the Turkish style of
beauty you know. The better bred the fatter is their standard, and
very nice too. Arab troops and Arab gendarmerie in their quaint
spiked head-gear; while hundreds of British staff officers (where
they come from, or what they do I don't know), with tabs of all
colours (and as one officer remarked to me only the other day,
'When the blue and green tabs appear it's time to capture another
town'!) And a sprinkling of combatant officers, English sisters,
French attaches, and American Red Cross workers, represent the
western world.

"THE RACING.

"Now we go and place our solitary 10 pt. on a promising pony ridden
by one of the two 'real' jockeys. It is all we can spare, as the
Field Cashier happens to be away (as usual). Suddenly a bugle
blows, and we hear the usual cry 'They're off!' But they aren't; at
least two are and there's no stopping those two. No, they mean to
carry on now; neck and neck they go, and soon they are round the
distant corner, and thundering past the four furlong point. On they
come shouting f