her,
they tied in the corner of my handkerchief; 'to spend on my journey.'
The little girl took such care of my hat and gloves and shoes, all very
strange garments to her, but politeness was stronger than curiosity with
the little things. I breakfasted with them all next day, and found much
cookery going on for me. I took a doll for my little friend Ayoosheh,
and some sugar-plums for Mohammed, but they laid them aside in order to
devote themselves to the stranger, and all quietly, and with no sort of
show-off or obtrusiveness. Even the baby seemed to have the instinct of
hospitality, and was full of smiles. It was all of a piece with the good
old lady, their grandmother at Luxor, who wanted to wash my clothes for
me herself, because I said the black slave of Mohammed washed badly.
Remember that to do 'menial offices' for a guest is an honour and
pleasure, and not derogatory at all here. The ladies cook for you, and
say, 'I will cook my best for thee.' The worst is that they stuff one
so. Little Ayoosheh asked after my children, and said, 'May God preserve
them for thee! Tell thy little girl that Mohammed and I love her from
afar off.' Whereupon Mohammed declared that in a few years, please God,
when he should be _balal_ (marriageable) he would marry her and live with
me. When I went back to the boat the Effendi was ill with asthma, and I
would not let him go with me in the heat (a polite man accompanies an
honoured guest back to his house or boat, or tent). So the little boy
volunteered, and we rode off on the Effendi's donkey, which I had to
bestride, with Mohammed on the hump of the saddle before me. He was
delighted with the boat, of course, and romped and played about till we
sailed, when his slave took him home. Those children gave me a happy day
with their earnest, gracious hospitality.

_July_ 14_th_.--Since I wrote this, I have had the boat topsy-turvy, with
a carpenter and a _menegget_ (cushion-stuffer), and had not a corner even
to write in. I am better, but still cough every morning. I am, however,
much better, and have quite got over the nervous depression which made me
feel unable and ashamed to write. My young carpenter--a Christian--half
Syrian, half Copt, of the Greek rite, and altogether a Cairene--would
have pleased you. He would not work on Sunday, but instead, came mounted
on a splendid tall black donkey, and handsomely dressed, to pay me a
visit, and go out with me for a ride. So he