in the Santruple (?) as a
watchman about four years ago. And I not make anything wrong and your
Exec. know me. Now I want to work in my place in the tembel, because the
man which in it he not attintive to His, but alway he in the coffee....
He also steal the scribed stones. Please give your order to point me
again. Your servant, X." "The coffee" is, of course, the _cafe_ which
adjoins the temple.

A short time ago a young man came to me with an accusation against his
own father, who, he said, had stolen a statuette. The tale which he told
was circumstantial, but it was hotly denied by his infuriated parent. He
looked, however, a trifle more honest than his father, and when a
younger brother was brought in as witness, one felt that the guilt of
the old man would be the probable finding. The boy stared steadfastly at
the ground for some moments, however, and then launched out into an
elaborate explanation of the whole affair. He said that he asked his
father to lend him four pounds, but the father had refused. The son
insisted that that sum was due to him as his share in some transaction,
and pointed out that though he only asked for it as a loan, he had in
reality a claim to it. The old man refused to hand it over, and the son,
therefore, waited his opportunity and stole it from his house, carrying
it off triumphantly to his own establishment. Here he gave it into the
charge of his young wife, and went about his business. The father,
however, guessed where the money had gone; and while his son was out,
invaded his house, beat his daughter-in-law on the soles of her feet
until she confessed where the money was hidden, and then, having
obtained it, returned to his home. When the son came back to his house
he learnt what had happened, and, out of spite, at once invented the
accusation which he had brought to me. This story appeared to be true in
so far as the quarrel over the money was concerned, but that the
accusation was invented proved to be untrue.

Sometimes the peasants have such honest faces that it is difficult to
believe that they are guilty of deceit. A lady came to the camp of a
certain party of excavators at Thebes, holding in her hand a scarab. "Do
tell me," she said to one of the archaeologists, "whether this scarab is
genuine. I am sure it must be, for I bought it from a boy who assured me
that he had stolen it from your excavations, and he looked such an
honest and truthful little fellow."

In order to