Hampstead vernacular—what a chance for an essay by
a philologist on the universality of stable
language!) brings us out of harm's way and camel's
reach; but, as they pass, that extraordinary
"gloaming," which, I believe, attacks every one
on a first visit to the East, comes upon me, and
I can think of nothing but the Arabian Nights,
the long story-telling Scheherazade, the Caliph,
Mesrour, and all that glorious tribe.

This large square of white-faced hotels is
much more like Paris than Egypt, but these
long-robed, turbaned Turks, these palm-trees,
the water-carrier with his swollen cowskin
brimming over with water, these rickety wooden
sheds, this half-nude, wild-eyed, olive-skinned
population, is all utterly Eastern, and arouses
in one thoughts which—Hallo! a board with
"Railway Station" painted on it in white
letters!

The railway station is a large white-washed
hall, with a wooden screen partitioned off at one
end, where the solitary clerk stands smoking a
cigarette, and talking a curious polyglot
language. He has but little to do, for all the P.
and O. Company's passengers have through-
tickets, and his dealings are principally with the
few clerks in mercantile houses who run between
Alexandria and Cairo, and a tolerably numerous
drift of Egyptians, travelling between the post and
the interior villages. In the hall of the station I
find nearly all the Niger's male passengers
engaged in fierce bargaining with a native who has
"puggeries" to vend. A " puggery" is a long slip
of white muslin which is bound round the hat,
and formed into a fantastic bow with tails be-
hind, very like to mutes' " weepers" at a child's
funeral. It is supposed to keep out the sun,
but whether it does or not, every one must have
one; so to be in the fashion, I invest a shilling
in this purchase (half-a-crown was the price
originally asked), and thus accoutred, step
on to the platform.

My friend the bishop is the only one
unpuggeried; the episcopal shovel hat, which has
replaced the silk skull-cap of the vessel, bears no
white veil, and its owner, taking me by the
arm, will show me all he can. And first he
proposes that I throw my infidel glances upon
some real Moslem ladies attached to the
establishment of the Pasha, who are seated in our
train. Thanks to the bishop's convoy, I walk
forward, and come to a carriage, at the door
of which stands a very tall black man, dressed in
a blue and red uniform, with a sword by his side.
Inside the carriage are some half dozen bundles
of clothes, which I am told are women, but
which may be anything; their heads are ban-
daged up in a white cloth, which is strained
tightly across the forehead, and carried off in a
fall down the back; up from the neck, like an
exaggerated busk or stay-bone, passing diagonally
across chin, mouth, and nose, is a strip of
strong cane, across the end of which, just below
the eyes, is drawn another piece of white linen,
passing round the head and completely envelop-
ing the lower portion of the face, so that be-
tween the two bandages, the eyes are the only

features which can be seen. Despite the severe
looks of the excessively tall black man, I
take a very rude but very natural stare into
the carriage, but see little attractive, for even
the eyes that are visible are dull, listless, and
lustre-lacking, save one pair! It is a pair of long,
black, almond-shaped liquid eyes—belonging to
a coquette, too, for she has seen the Frank staring
at her, and pretends to pull her yastmusthar
more closely round her face on my side, while
she puffs the smoke of her cigarette out of the
opposite window. This suggests a chance of
seeing her profile devoid of yastmusthar or
other covering; so I walk quietly round at the
back of the train, and, ensconcing myself behind
the state carriage of the Pasha, which has been
shunted on one side—a very gorgeous green and
gold affair, luxuriously fitted up—I get a full
view of my smoking beauty, and beheld in her
the incarnation of fat, sluggish, venal, sensual
loveliness.

For miles and miles after leaving the station
the railroad runs through the flattest and
most uninteresting country. Immediately on
starting, the scene is more animated; looking
back you see the harbour and the sea; Pom-
pey's Pillar, far away to the left; Cleopatra's
Needle, and the white-faced houses, stretching
out on either side the town. Then you come to
vast swamps and miles of marshy ground, dotted
with pools of standing water, on which are
innumerable flocks of wild-fowl, marsh-hens,
water-coots, and snipe. On the left hand, and
parallel with the railroad, runs the Mahmoodie
Canal, along the bank of which there is a
constant traffic. Now, a horseman, splendidly
mounted, dashes by at full speed; now, a string
of heavily laden camels saunter by, or two or
three foot passengers following a donkey carry-
ing a tent—gipsies even amongst this gipsy
nation! At distances of a mile, or even less,
we pass a village: a collection of mud hovels of
the most miserable kind, resembling nothing so
much as exaggerated mud-pies made by our poor
children at home, with a hole in the wall for
entrance, and a hole in the circular roof to emit
the smoke. About these hovels the children
swarm: filthy, stunted, and wretched: lying about
without the least signs of childish vivacity: list-
less, hollow-eyed, and shrunken-limbed. Two
or three times we come upon an encampment;
the chief's tent, snowy white and roomy; tethered
round it, his two or three horses, his camel for
burden, and, in one instance, a very large and
milk-white donkey; at a little distance, a humbler
brown tent for his retainers.

The heat of the sun, blazing and scorching
on the roof of the carriage, is now tremendous,
and the monotony of the scenery, and slowness
of pace, begin to render us all irritable
and bored. We have stopped at two or
three stations, where we have had a change of
third-class Egyptian passengers, and where
itinerant vendors of drinking water in goat-skin
bags have requested us to allay the pangs of
thirst. At last we come to a place called Tantah,
where we are destined to remain four mortal