nightcap that sister Susan's dead husband's
grandfather brought over from England; and I have a gridiron that my
great aunt gave me to remember her by. And there's the snuffers and the
old wood-yard rake that my grandfather made himself way back in New
England, and the dress in which my aunt Harriet was married, and the
horseshoe from the foot of the horse that killed cousin John's boy Tom,
and sister Hanner's gold fillin' of her tooth, which was the first gold
fillin' in our parts, and it came out just afore she died, and I don't
know how much more. Ain't they anthropological, ethnographic biology or
something like that?"

"I think, Grandpa, they would have been more useful in some kind of a
cabinet in the old settler's cabin, but we needn't to fret about it
any."

From here they went over to the Midway Plaisance. The "Street in Cairo"
was to be opened with a great parade of some kind and they wanted to see
it. The natives call it _Mars-al-Kabia_. In fact the Street in Cairo was
all the curiosities of Egyptian Cairo's streets crowded into one Chicago
Cairo Street. It was a splendid sight with its gardens and squares, its
temples, its towers and minaret made in the most Arabesque architecture
and ornamented with the most fantastic draperies. The inhabitants had
been directly transported from old Cairo across the sea to Midway
Plaisance. There were the importunate street venders, the donkey boys
begging and pulling at the clothing of the visitors, the pompous drivers
of camels beseeching the visitors to try their "ship of the desert;"
tom-tom pounders, reed blowers, fakirs, child acrobat beggars,
Mohammedans, Copts, Jews, Franks, Greeks, Armenians, Nubians, Soudanese,
Arabs, Turks, and men and women from all over the Levant, all in the
gorgeous apparel of the East, filling the booths or strolling about the
street. They were the happiest lot of Orientals that ever got so far
away from home. Drums were beating, camel drivers singing merry songs,
and a curious medley of voices which the earth beneath them never heard
before. At eleven o'clock somebody blew a strange kind of horn, which
made the small boy almost kill himself in his frenzy to get near to see
what it meant.

Musicians mounted the camels and began grinding out music that was
enough to frighten even a North American Indian to death. At the first
glimpse of the camels a team of steady old horses, that probably were
never frightened before, ran away with the g