the cheek he laid him flat in the sand. I was horrified. But to my
amazement Hassan hopped up and began to kiss my sleeve and to
apologize, saying, "Very good lady. Bad donkey-boy. Hassan sorry. Very
good lady."

We have had three Christmases this year. The first was in Berlin, the
second in Russia, and the third on the Nile--the day after the fast of
Ramazan is ended. Ramazan lasts only thirty days instead of forty,
like our Lent. The thirty-first is a holiday. They present each other
with gifts, do no work, and picnic in the graveyards.

Between Esneh and Luxor we passed a steamer with some English officers
on board, and their steamer was towing two flat-boats containing their
regiments, all going to Kitchener in the Soudan. I used the
field-glass on-them, while my companion photographed them. We waved to
them, and they waved to us and swung their hats and saluted. At Edfou
they caught up with us, and passed so close to our boat that the
gentlemen talked to them and asked what their regiments were. They
said the Twenty-first Lancers and the Seaforth and Cameron
Highlanders. Then their boat was gone. How could we know that those
gallant officers of the Twenty-first Lancers would so soon lead that
daring cavalry charge at Omdurman, and possibly one of those who
saluted so gayly was the one killed on the awful day? It touched us
very much, however, to think that they might be going to their death,
and we were glad they did not belong to us, little dreaming that the
blowing-up of the _Maine_, of which we had just heard, would so soon
plunge our own dear country into war, and that our own fathers and
brothers and friends would be marching and sailing away to defend that
same "Old Glory" whose stars and stripes were floating over our heads,
and whose gallant colors would succor the oppressed and avenge insult
with equal promptness and equal dignity.

The temple of Denderah is not, to my mind, more beautiful than those
of Luxor and Karnak; in fact, both of those are more majestic, but the
mural decorations of Denderah are in a state of marvellous
preservation. I own, after seeing that in some places even the
original colors remained, that I quite held my breath as we approached
the famous figure of Cleopatra. The sorceress of the Nile! The
favorite of the goddess Hathor herself! The siren who could tempt an
emperor to forsake his empire or a general to renounce fame and honor
more easily than a modern woman could persuad