one somewhat of old Indian villages on
the fringe of the desert in California and Arizona--the same walls of
sun-baked adobe; the roofs of any refuse from tree pruning; the goats
and chickens on terms of intimacy with the single living-room. But the
people are not of the Western world. Dressed in voluminous black or blue
cotton robes, which are pulled up over their heads to protect them from
the keen wind of winter, they belong to the land as absolutely as the
tawny, dust-colored camel. The dress of the women appears to differ very
little from that of the men, but always the women gather a loose fold of
their dress and bring it over the head, thus partially concealing the
face. Men, women and children, all in bare feet, squat in the sand or
sit hunched up against the sunny side of their houses. Beyond any other
Orientals I have seen, these Egyptians have the capacity for unlimited
loafing under circumstances that would drive an American insane in a few
hours. Flies swarm over them; passing donkeys or camels powder them with
dust; the fierce sun beats down on their heads; but all these things
they accept philosophically as an inevitable part of life, as something
decreed by fate which it would be useless and senseless to change.

The first walk down the Street of the Camel in Cairo is one not soon
forgotten. Before you are clear of the hotel steps an Arab in a sweater
and loose skirt, something like the Malay sarong, rushes up and shouts:
"The latest New York Herald; just came this morning!" Although you tell
him "no" and shake your head, he follows you for half a block. Meanwhile
you are badgered by dealers in scarabs, beads, stamps, postal cards,
silver shawls and various curios, who dog your heels, and, when you
finally lose your temper, retaliate by shouting: "Yankee!" through their
noses. These street peddlers are wonderfully keen judges of nationality
and they manage to make life a burden to the American tourist by their
unwearied and smiling persistence. This is due in great part to the
foolish liberality of American travelers, who are inclined to accept the
first price offered, although with an Egyptian or an Arab this is
usually twice or three times what he finally agrees to take.

Custom and habit probably blunt one's sensibilities in time, but this
constant annoyance by peddlers detracts much from the pleasure of any
stroll through Cairo streets. To the new arrival everything is novel and
attractive. The main