, a few modern ideas,
and many strange diseases. And of these three blessings our two
Syrians together are plentifully endowed. For Shakib is a type of the
emigrant, who returns home prosperous in every sense of the word. A
Book of Verse to lure Fame, a Letter of Credit to bribe her if
necessary, and a double chin to praise the gods. This is a complete
set of the prosperity, which Khalid knows not. But he has in his lungs
what Shakib the poet can not boast of; while in his trunk he carries
but a little wearing apparel, his papers, and his blankets. And in his
pocket, he has his ribbed silver cigarette case--the only object he
can not part with--a heart-shaped locket with a little diamond star on
its face--the only present he is bringing with him home,--and a
third-class passage across the Atlantic. For Khalid will not sleep in
a bunk, even though it be furnished with eiderdown cushions and tiger
skins.

And since he is determined to pass his nights on deck, it matters
little whether he travels first class, or second or tenth. Shakib, do
what he may, cannot prevail upon him to accept the first-class passage
he had bought in his name. "Let us not quarrel about this," says he;
"we shall be together on board the same ship, and that settles the
question. Indeed, the worse way returning home must be ultimately the
best. No, Shakib, it matters not how I travel, if I but get away
quickly from this pandemonium of Civilisation. Even now, as I sit on
this trunk waiting for the hour of departure, I have a foretaste of
the joy of being away from the insidious cries of hawkers, the
tormenting bells of the rag-man, the incessant howling of children,
the rumbling of carts and wagons, the malicious whir of cable cars,
the grum shrieks of ferry boats, and the thundering, reverberating,
smoking, choking, blinding abomination of an elevated railway. A
musician might extract some harmony from this chaos of noises, this
jumble of sounds. But I--extract me quickly from them!"

Ay, quickly please, especially for our sake and the Reader's. Now, the
dinner is finished, the rug is folded and presented to our landlord
with our salaams, the trunks are locked and roped, and our Arabs will
silently steal away. And peacefully, too, were it not that an hour
before sailing a capped messenger is come to deliver a message to
Shakib. There is a pleasant dilative sensation in receiving a message
on board a steamer, especially when the messenger has to see