Meantime, life's path seem paved with roses, and
himself to march it in eternal sunshine, buoyed
by perfumed wings.

He came to Barkington to try for the lovely
prize. Then first he had to come down from
love's sky, and realise how hard it is here below to
court a young lady — who is guarded by a mother
—without an introduction in the usual form.
The obvious course was to call on Edward.
Having parted from him so lately he forced
himself to wait a few days, and then set out for
Albion Villa.

As he went along, he arranged the coming
dialogue for all the parties; Edward was to
introduce him, Mrs. Dodd to recognise his friendship
for her son, he was to say he was the gainer
by it; Julia, silent at first, was to hazard a timid
observation, and he to answer gracefully, and
draw her out, and find how he stood in her
opinion. The sprightly affair should end by his
inviting Edward to dinner. That should lead to
their inviting him in turn, and then he should
get a word with Julia, and find out what houses
she visited, and get introduced to their
proprietors ; arrived at this point, his mind went
over hedge and ditch faster than my poor pen
can follow. As the crow flies, so flew he, and
had reached the church-porch under a rain of
nosegays with Julia — in imagination — by then he
arrived at Albion Villa in the body. Yet he
knocked timidly ; his heart beat almost as hard
as his hand.

Sarah, the black-eyed housemaid, "answered
the door."

CAIRO DONKEY-BOYS.

AN Egyptian donkey is, indeed, "the horse's
godson," as the fellaheen proverb asserts. In
England the donkey is well known as a small,
long-eared animal, with a black cross on its back,
not disposed to prolonged speed, intensely
stubborn, and, except at sea-side places, not much
patronised by the richer classes, who, indeed,
rather despise its demure and stiff-necked
patience. In Egypt, it is bestrode by all classes,
being no longer slow, no longer obstinate. Its
pace, if not tremendous, is untiring; and as for
appearances, what the Prophet loved to ride the
wealthiest spice merchant of the bazaars dare
not despise. The basha's favourite wives ride
donkeys when they pay their morning calls or
go shopping for perfumed silks. Fancy meeting
in Regent-street the Archbishop of
Canterbury and Lord Brougham ambling along
on donkeys; yet we have seen the chief
dervish of Cairo and a leading dignitary of that
city riding in such wise through the Cairo
bazaars. The first thought of the son of a
pilgrim returning from Mecca, who hears that the
caravan has been sighted, is to run and saddle
an ass, that his tired father may dismount from
his wearisome camel, and at least enter the
"victorious city" in peace and comfort. Troops of
these long-suffering animals stand in the Usbeekieh,
or chief square of Cairo. The Caireen saddle
has a raised round pommel, mounting into a
smooth hump, and covered neatly with red
leather. The bridle ties up with a slip-knot to
a ring in this pommel, and to some part of the
under part is generally fastened (perhaps as a
talisman against the evil eye and the bad genii)
some ring or other ornament of blue porcelain.
The stirrups are often brass and of strange shape,
and the jogging of the rider's feet is the chief
incitement used to the animal ; sometimes, at
special moments, as at the final race home, aided
by a long-drawn shout of "Ah — h !" and a screw
of the vertebræ of the tail not altogether
unknown among Britons. There is generally a
saddle-cloth ; it is often a very gay red and blue
carpet, sometimes a mere little rug of brown
wool, rudely simple, but sufficient. Too often the
Egyptian, who is not merciful to animals (he
has only just escaped from the animal kingdom
of slavery himself), allows the girth to fret the
poor beast into raw patches and streaks that
distress the European rider perhaps even more
than they do the animal itself.

The periodical donkey market held at Cairo is
a pretty and curious sight. It is held near Boulak,
about a quarter of a mile out of the town.
There you may see the genus donkey to perfection:
of all ages, of all sizes, from the sleek
fawn-coloured foal to the mature old donkey who
has seen the world. Anxious men in blue gowns,
mouthing wrangling and guttural Arabic, wander
through this world of donkeys, examining eyes,
teeth, flanks, and heels with as much severity of
criticism as if their own eyes were not ophthalmic
and their own teeth half out. Brown children
stand in a cluster round a barber who is shaving
a donkey, or cutting the hair of his legs into
striped and zig-zagged patterns; while opposite
—under a mud wall topped with a chevaux-
de-frise of dead palm-branches, against which
lean rows of jointed sugar-canes for sale — sits one
of the donkey owners, having his Moslem head
shaven by the dry razor of a skilful barber.
What perfect sympathy between the man and
the sometimes inferior animal! A good donkey
is worth, I believe, about £5; and, as he lives on
chopped straw, he must return a good per-centage
on the money invested.

The driving-boys are seldom the owners;
generally several asses belong to one man, who
pays the boys a mere pittance, for which they
sometimes run about twenty miles a day in a burning
sun, jostled by camels, horses, carriages heavily
laden, and foot-passengers irritable with the heat,
noise, dust, and confusion of Cairo. The native
pays them one-and-sixpence, the everywhere-
plundered Englishman two shillings a day, half
of which goes to the owner. Yet even these
boys have an ideal, as the drummer-boy has
his Wellington. There was once a donkey-boy
who became a rich coach proprietor. To go up
the Nile with an English gentleman is also
supposed to be the pathway to a certain fortune—
why, I cannot say. There is also a vague
tradition, of very doubtful origin, that a Frank
traveller once bought a donkey and presented