housand years old, marking
the site of the famous "City of the Sun." Towards the sea is the land of
Goshen, where the sons of Jacob fed their flocks. A little more
westerly, in the mysterious Nile, is seen the well-wooded island of
Roda, quietly nestling in the broad bosom of the river. Here is the
place where the infant Moses was found. The grand Aqueduct, with its
high-reaching arches, reminds us of the ruins outside of Rome; while ten
miles away are seen the time-defying Pyramids, the horizon ending at the
borders of the great Libyan Desert. Far away to the southwest a forest
of palms dimly marks the site of dead and buried Memphis, where Joseph
interpreted a monarch's dream. It is the twilight hour as we stand in
the open area of the mosque, and view the scene. The half-suppressed hum
of a dense Eastern population comes up to us from the busy, low-lying
city, and a strange, sensuous flavor of sandal wood, musk, and attar of
roses floats on the golden haze of the sunset, indelibly fixing the
scene upon the memory.

[Illustration: A LADY OF CAIRO AS SEEN IN PUBLIC.]

The Pyramids of Gizeh are situated about three leagues from Cairo, and,
after crossing the Nile by an iron bridge, guarded at either end by two
bronze lions, they are reached by a straight, level road, lined with
well-trimmed trees. This road terminates at a rocky plateau, which
serves to give these wonderful structures an elevated site, as well as
to form a firm, natural foundation for the enormous weight of solid
stone to be supported. There is always an importuning group of Arabs
here, who live upon the gratuities obtained from visitors. They help
people to ascend and descend the Pyramids for a fixed sum, or, for a few
shillings, will run up and down them like monkeys. On the way between
Cairo and the Pyramids, through the long alley of acacias, we pass
hundreds of camels bound to the city, laden with green fodder and newly
cut clover for stable use in town. Carts are not employed; the backs of
camels and donkeys supersede the use of wheels.

Nothing new can be said about the Pyramids,--monuments hoary with age;
the statistics relating to them are familiar. They simply show, standing
there upon the border of the desert, a vast aggregate of labor performed
by compulsion, and only exhibit the supreme folly of the monarchs, who
thus vainly strove to erect monuments which should defy all time and
perpetuate their fame. To-day not even the names of their