seek to instil into their
dark minds some drops of divine truth. Much of her time also was spent
in visiting the poorer women of the city.

When, at the end of May, both the heat of the climate and family claims
necessitated her return home, she placed her little school under the
care of a teacher whom the Society for Promoting Female Education in the
East provided.

The following winter was passed with some friends at Pau. After a trip
to the north of Spain she spent another summer at home. In the autumn
of 1862 she again arrived in Cairo, to re-open her school, which had for
some time been suspended through the departure of the teacher. Many of
her former scholars, hearing of her return, came to give her a very
hearty greeting, and were willing to come back to school, bringing their
younger sisters with them. They had, however, forgotten nearly all they
had learned, and were at first very unruly. No assistance beyond that of
an ignorant woman to help keep order and teach a little sewing was
obtainable, while Miss Whately's still imperfect acquaintance with
Arabic increased the difficulties which are everywhere experienced in
the conduct of a ragged school. The younger children were especially
difficult to deal with. The parents of the Mohammedan children objected
to the use of pictures, being accustomed to see them the objects of
reverence on the part of the Copts and other Eastern Christians, while
the Coptic children were inclined to worship them. Amusing songs in
Arabic, suitable for young children, there were none; and when a little
marching about was attempted for the sake of variety, the mothers said,
"We send our children to _learn_, and you teach them to _play_! If that
is what they go to school for, they may as well be at home." [1] After a
time a young woman was found who could do a little teaching. Miss
Whately had to continue to give all the religious instruction herself.
Yet, despite the many difficulties, the school was firmly established
and continued to make slow but steady progress.

[Footnote 1: _Among the Huts_, p. 269.]

When her scholars were about to start for the "school-treat" to which
reference has been made, a little boy, looking on with envious eyes, had
exclaimed in a piteous voice, "I wish I were a girl." [1] "It was indeed
a triumph," says Miss Whately, "to the little school that it caused an
Egyptian boy even for a moment to wish himself a girl." Other boys had
expressed their desire