t, wearing over one ear the cloth-covered saucer which passes for
a head-covering. Tommy Atkins patronizes the donkeys with all his heart.
One of the most frequently seen groups is a party of laughing
scarlet-backed youths mounted on the smallest beasts they can find, and
careering down the avenues at the donkey's swiftest speed, followed by
the donkey-boys, delighted and panting. As the spring comes on, Atkins
changes his scarlet for lighter garments, and dons the summer helmet.
This species of hat is not confined to the sons of Mars; it is worn in
warm weather by Europeans of all nationalities who are living or
travelling in the East. It may be cool. Without doubt, aesthetically
considered, it is the most unbecoming head-covering known to the
civilized world. It has a peculiar power of causing its wearer to appear
both ignoble and pulmonic; for, viewed in front, the most distinguished
features, under its tin-pan-like visor, become plebeian; and, viewed
behind, the strongest masculine throat looks wizened and consumptive.

[Illustration: A MOHAMMEDAN CEMETERY, CAIRO]

The English have benefited Egypt. They have put an end to the open
knavery in high places which flourished unchecked; they have taught
honesty; they have so greatly improved the methods of irrigation that a
bad Nile (_i.e._, a deficient inundation) no longer means starvation;
finally, they have taken hold of the mismanaged finances, disentangled
them, set them in order, and given them at least a start in the right
direction. The natives fret over some of their restrictions. And they
say that the English have, first of all, taken care of their own
interests. In addition, they greatly dislike seeing so many Englishmen
holding office over them. But this last objection is simply the other
side of the story. If the English are to help the country, they must be
on the spot in order to do it; and it appears to be a fixed rule in all
British colonies that the representatives of the government, whether
high or low, shall be made, as regards material things, extremely
comfortable. Egypt is not yet a British colony; she is a viceroyalty
under the suzerainty of the Porte. But practically she is to-day
governed by the English; and, to the American traveller at least
(whatever the French may think), it appears probable that English
authority will soon be as absolute in the Khedive's country as it is now
in India.

In Cairo, in 1890, the English colony played lawn-ten