sands, and vagabonds
of Egypt begged for alms. In about three-quarters of an hour we had
passed the lofty barriers of Jebel Shamsan and its comrades, and
were making clouds of dust in the streets of Aden. In spite of the
cantonments, the British Government House, and the European Church,
it was an Oriental town pure and simple, where the slow-footed hours
wandered by, leaving apathy in their train; where sloth and surfeit sat
in the market-places; idle women gossiped in their doorways; and naked
children rolled in the sun. Yet how, in the most unfamiliar places, does
one wake suddenly to hear or see some most familiar thing, and learn
again that the ways of all people and nations are not, after all, so far
apart! Here three naked youths, with trays upon their heads, cried aloud
at each doorway what, interpreted, was: "Pies! Hot pies! Pies all hot!"
or, "Crum-pet! Crumpet! Won't you buy-uy a crum-pet!"

One sees the same thing in Kandy, in Calcutta, in Tokio, in Istamboul,
in Teheran, in Queensland, in London.

To us the great Tanks overlooking the place were more interesting than
the town itself, and we drove thither. At Government House and here were
the only bits of green that we had seen; they were, in fact, the only
spots of verdure on the peninsula of Aden. It was a very sickly green,
from which wan and dusty fig trees rose. In their scant shadow, or in
the shelter of an overhanging ledge of rock, Arabs offered us draughts
of cool water, and oranges. There were people in the sickly gardens, and
others were inspecting the Tanks. Passengers from the ship had brought
luncheon-baskets to this sad oasis.

As we stood at the edge of one of the Tanks, Miss Treherne remarked with
astonishment that they were empty. I explained to her that Aden did not
have the benefits conferred even on the land of the seven fat and seven
lean kine--that there had not been rain there for years, and that when
it did come it was neither prolonged nor plentiful. Then came questions
as to how long ago the Tanks were built.

"Thirteen hundred years!" she exclaimed. "How strange to feel it so! It
is like looking at old graves. And how high the walls are, closing up
the gorge between the hills."

At that moment Mrs. Callendar drew our attention to Mrs. Falchion and a
party from the ship. Mrs. Falchion was but a few paces from us, smiling
agreeably as she acknowledged our greetings. Presently two of her party
came to us and asked us to share