rely from our own, was, in itself, a very
trivial one. The Pasha wanted his pocket handkerchief, and looked about
and felt in his pocket for it, but could not find it, making various
exclamations during his search, which at last were answered by an
attendant from the lower end of the room--"Feel in the other pocket,"
said the servant. "Well, it is not there," said the Pasha. "Look in the
other, then." "I have not got a handkerchief," or words to that effect,
were replied to immediately,--"Yes, you have;"--"No, I have not;"--"Yes,
you have." Eventually this attendant, advancing up to the Pasha, felt in
the pocket of his jacket, but the handkerchief was not to be found; then
he poked all round the Pasha's waist, to see whether it was not tucked
into his shawl: that would not do. So he took hold of his Sovereign and
pushed him half over on the divan, and looked under him to see whether
he was sitting on the handkerchief; then he pushed him over on the other
side. During all which manoeuvres the Pasha sat as quietly and passively
as possible. The servant then, thrusting his arm up to the elbow in one
of the pockets of his Highness's voluminous trousers, pulled out a
snuff-box, a rosary, and several other things, which he laid upon the
divan. That would not do, either; so he came over to the other pocket,
and diving to a prodigious depth he produced the missing handkerchief
from the recesses thereof; and with great respect and gravity, thrusting
it into the Pasha's hand, he retired again to his place at the lower end
of the hall.

After being presented with sherbet, in glass bowls with covers, we took
our leave, and rode home through the crowds of persons with paper
lanterns, who turn night into day during the month of Ramadan.

The view from that part of the bastions of the citadel which looks over
the place of the Roumayli and the great mosque of Sultan Hassan is one
of the most extraordinary that can be seen any where. The whole city is
displayed at your feet; the numerous domes and minarets, the towers of
the Saracenic walls, the flat roofs of the houses, and the narrowness of
the streets giving it an aspect very different from that of an European
town. You see the Nile and the gardens of Ibrahim Pasha in the island of
Rhoda to the left; and the avenue of Egyptian sycamores to the right,
leading to the Pasha's country palace of Shoubra. Beyond the Nile, the
bare mysterious-looking desert, and the Pyramids standing on the