Mohammad, eyah Mohammad,' _ad
infinitum_, except when an energetic man cries 'Yallah!'--_i.e._, 'O
God!'--which means 'go it' in everyday life. Omar is gone to fetch one
or two more 'unconsidered trifles,' and I have been explaining the
defects to be remedied in the cabin door, broken window, etc., to my Reis
with the help of six words of Arabic and dumb show, which they understand
and answer with wonderful quickness.

The air on the river is certainly quite celestial--totally unlike the
damp, chilly feeling of the hotel and Frank quarter of Cairo. The
Isbekeeyeh, or public garden, where all the Franks live, was a lake, I
believe, and is still very damp.

I shall go up to the second Cataract as fast as possible, and return back
at leisure. Hekekian Bey came to take leave yesterday, and lent me
several books; pray tell Senior what a kindness his introduction was. It
would have been rather dismal in Cairo--if one could be dismal
there--without a soul to speak to. I was sorry to know no Turks or
Arabs, and have no opportunity of seeing any but the tradesman of whom I
bought my stores but that was very amusing. The young man of whom I
bought my _finjaans_ was so handsome, elegant and melancholy that I know
he was the lover of the Sultan's favourite slave. How I wish you were
here to enjoy all this, so new, so beautiful, and yet so familiar,
life--and you would like the people, poor things! they are complete
children, but amiable children.

I went into the village here, where I was a curiosity, and some women
took me into their houses and showed me their sleeping-place, cookery,
poultry, etc.; and a man followed me to keep off the children, but no
backsheesh was asked for, which showed that Europeans were rare there.
The utter destitution is terrible to see, though in this climate of
course it matters less, but the much-talked-of dirt is simply utter
poverty. The poor souls are as clean as Nile mud and water will make
their bodies, and they have not a second shirt, or any bed but dried mud.

Give my love to my darlings, and don't be uneasy if you don't get
letters. My cough has been better now for five days without a bad return
of it, so I hope it is really better; it is the first reprieve for so
long. The sun is so hot, a regular broil, November 21, and all doors and
windows open in the cabin--a delicious breeze.

November 30, 1862: Mrs. Austin

_To Mrs. Austin_.