and without exaggeration when I say that American women take
the palm in dancing. There is a stiffness, a want of gracefulness, in
those ladies of foreign nations. We were shocked by the innovation of
the British army officers, with their red coats, and swords dangling at
their side, which were permissible in this Oriental city, but when their
spurs were worn, to the detriment of the gauzy draperies of ladies
participating in the dance, it was a breach we could not overlook.

FROM EGYPT TO FRANCE

And now we are in Ismalia, our sailing port. Two steamers are
momentarily expected; one bound for Brindisi, the other for Marseilles.
The poor hotel accommodations were emphasized when this avalanche of
people came down upon them. After baggage was identified and there was
no room in the inn for many of us, I selected a sofa in the drawing
room, on which to rest till the signal was given that the "Caledonia"
was in sight. It was not a bed of roses, but many around me had a worse
accommodation; but upon it I became half unconscious from sheer
exhaustion, when a tender hand was laid upon me, and a kind, persuasive
voice whispered in my ear: "Come with me; there is room for you with
us." Almost reluctantly I arose and followed Mrs. Logan, who had,
through her well-known forethought, secured two apartments for herself
and party, the latter having agreed to double up and give me the extra
cot in Mrs. Logan's room. We expected surely the cry would come at
midnight, and we slept with one eye open to sight our steamer's coming.
It was a cold, moonlight night. The desert's glistening sands were on
one side of us, the sparkling waters of Lake Tesmah in the Suez Canal
on the other. There was a bird with a lone, peculiar cry that added
loneliness to the scene, and when the morning light dawned upon us we
were still in Ismalia. A most inhospitable breakfast was served us, and
at nine o'clock came the welcome cry: "Ship ahoy!" The wharf from off
which these steamers anchored was near to the hotel and a procession of
yawning pedestrians was soon on its wending way, followed by innumerable
dragomen, who were still in anticipation of one more backsheesh, and a
crowd of blear-eyed, frowsy Arab children brought up the rear. Breakfast
was awaiting us on the good old ship "Caledonia," and a warm welcome
from Capt. Andrews. My spirits rose, and my traveling friends, Mrs.
Wilbur and her daughter, soon were on deck, taking in the surroundings