the sand at El Arish? Ah! what a pleasant day that was!"

"But you have not recalled it by a very pleasant incident. I was very
nearly being thrown out of my saddle."

"And how we had to wait for our dinner at Gaza till the camels came
up?" And Mr. M'Gabbery, urging on his horse, brought him up once more
abreast with that of Miss Waddington.

"I shall soon have as great a horror of Gaza as Samson had," said
she, _sotto voce_. "I almost feel myself already in bonds under
Philistian yoke whenever it is mentioned."

"Talking of recollections, that journey will certainly be among the
sunniest of my life's memories," said Mr. M'Gabbery.

"It was sunny, certainly," said Miss Waddington; for the heat of the
desert had been oppressive.

"Ah! and so sweet! That encamping in your own tent; preparing your
own meals; having everything, as it were, within yourself. Civilized
life has nothing to offer equal to that. A person who has only gone
from city to city, or from steamboat to steamboat, knows nothing of
oriental life. Does he, Miss Waddington?" This was intended as a blow
at Bertram, who had got to Jerusalem without sleeping under canvas.

"What ignorant wretches the natives must be!" said George; "for
they apparently sleep as regularly in their own beds as any stupid
Christian in England."

"I am not sure that even Mr. M'Gabbery would admire the tents so much
if he had not some Christian comforts along with him."

"His brandy-flask and dressing-case, for instance," said George.

"Yes; and his mattress and blankets," said Caroline.

"His potted meat and preserved soup."

"And especially his pot to boil his potatoes in."

"That was Mr. Cruse," said Mr. M'Gabbery, quite angrily. "For myself,
I do not care a bit about potatoes."

"So it was, Mr. M'Gabbery; and I beg your pardon. It is Mr. Cruse
whose soul is among the potatoes. But, if I remember right, it was
you who were so angry when the milk ran out." Then Mr. M'Gabbery
again receded, and talked to Mrs. Jones about his associations.

"How thoroughly the Turks and Arabs beat us in point of costume,"
said Mrs. Hunter to Mr. Cruse.

"It will be very hard, at any rate, for any of them to beat you,"
said the tutor. "Since I have been out here, I have seen no one adopt
their ways with half as much grace as you do."

Mrs. Hunter looked down well pleased to her ancles, which were
covered, and needed to be covered, by no riding-habit. "I was not
thinking so much of