ho, like the young Mukaukas,
has freed himself from the heaviest of all curses."

To this day the Bride of the Nile is not forgotten. Before the river
begins to rise on the Night of Dropping the inhabitants of the town of
Cairo, which grew up after the ruin of Memphis, on the eastern shore by
the side of Fostat, erect a figure of clay, representing a maiden form,
which they call Aroosa or the Bride.

ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

Sea-port was connected with Medina by a pigeon-post

ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS FOR THE ENTIRE BRIDE OF THE NILE:

A knot can often be untied by daylight
Abandon to the young the things we ourselves used most to enjoy
Ancient custom, to have her ears cut off
Caught the infection and had to laugh whether she would or no
Gave them a claim on your person and also on your sorrows
Hatred and love are the opposite ends of the same rod
He was made to be plundered
How could they find so much pleasure in such folly
In whom some good quality or other may not be discovered
Life is not a banquet
Life is a function, a ministry, a duty
Love has two faces: tender devotion and bitter aversion
Of two evils it is wise to choose the lesser
Old age no longer forgets; it is youth that has a short memory
Prepared for the worst; then you are armed against failure
Sea-port was connected with Medina by a pigeon-post
Self-interest and egoism which drive him into the cave
So hard is it to forego the right of hating
Spoilt to begin with by their mothers, and then all the women
Talk of the wolf and you see his tail
Temples of the old gods were used as quarries
The man who avoids his kind and lives in solitude
Thin-skinned, like all up-starts in authority
Those who will not listen must feel
Use their physical helplessness as a defence
Who can hope to win love that gives none
Who can take pleasure in always seeing a gloomy face?
Women are indeed the rock ahead in this young fellow's life
You have a habit of only looking backwards

A THORNY PATH

By Georg Ebers

Volume 1.

CHAPTER I.

The green screen slowly rose, covering the lower portion of the broad
studio window where Heron, the gem-cutter, was at work. It was Melissa,
the artist's daughter, who had pulled it up, with bended knees and
outstretched arms, panting for breath.

"Tha