ast.

_Monday_.--I went yesterday to the port of Cairo, Boulak, to see
Hassaneyn Effendi about boats. He was gone up the Nile, and I sat with
his wife--a very nice Turkish woman who speaks English to perfection--and
heard all sorts of curious things. I heard the whole story of an unhappy
marriage made by Leyla, my hostess's sister, and much Cairo gossip. Like
all Eastern ladies that I have seen she complains of indigestion, and
said she knew she ought to go out more and to walk, but custom _e contra
il nostro decoro_.

Mr. Thayer will be back in Egypt on December 15, so I shall embark about
that time, as he may want his house here. It is now a little fresh in
the early morning, but like fine English summer weather.

_Tuesday_.--Since I have been here my cough is nearly gone, and I am
better for having good food again. Omar manages to get good mutton, and
I have discovered that some of the Nile fish is excellent. The _abyad_,
six or eight feet long and very fat, is delicious, and I am told there
are still better; the eels are delicate and good too. Maurice might hook
an _abyad_, but how would he land him? The worst is that everything is
just double the price of last year, as, of course, no beef can be eaten
at all, and the draught oxen being dead makes labour dear as well. The
high Nile was a small misfortune compared to the murrain. There is a
legend about it, of course. A certain Sheykh el-Beled (burgomaster) of
some place--not mentioned--lost his cattle, and being rich defied God,
said he did not care, and bought as many more; they died too, and he
continued impenitent and defiant, and bought on till he was ruined, and
now he is sinking into the earth bodily, though his friends dig and dig
without ceasing night and day. It is curious how like the German legends
the Arab ones are. All those about wasting bread wantonly are almost
identical. If a bit is dirty, Omar carefully gives it to the dog; if
clean, he keeps it in a drawer for making breadcrumbs for cutlets; not a
bit must fall on the floor. In other things they are careless enough,
but _das liebe Brod_ is sacred--_vide_ Grimm's _Deutsche Sagen_. I am
constantly struck with resemblances to German customs. A Fellah wedding
is very like the German _Bauern hochzeit_ firing of guns and display of
household goods, only on a camel instead of a cart. I have been trying
to get a teacher of Arabic, but it is very hard to find one who knows any
European