for a few pice. But out in the streets 

 may be seen hundreds happily wending 

 homeward, a bundle of the precious 

 leaves under each arm, their jaws work- 

 ing and their eyes full of a delicious 

 content. It is close on to noon, and you 

 will not see them again until after 2 

 o'clock. 



Go to the house of a Mohammedan 

 merchant (the Jews and other sects do 

 not use khat) between those hours and 

 say that you have urgent news for him, 

 or that you have come to buy a lakh of 

 rupees worth of skins. His servant meets 

 you on the veranda and is very sorry. 

 Master is unutterably sick (here he be- 

 gins to weep), or his sister's husband's 

 aunt's mother died this morning and he 

 is doing no business, or certainly he has 

 gone to Tawahi, but will assuredly be 

 back by 3 o'clock. Will the sahib wait? 

 At that very moment your friend is in 

 the mabraz at the top of the house, smok- 

 ing his hubbuk and chewing khat leaves, 

 and he will not be disturbed. 



Of course, if you are so lucky as to be 

 ■on very friendly terms with him, you may 

 be allowed to go up. Then, whatever 

 your news, it will not shock him, and you 

 may buy his goods at your own price. I 

 went into the house of the merchant 

 Abdul Kadir Mackawi and was taken up 

 to the mabras, where he and his revered 

 uncle sat catching glimpses of Allah's rose 

 gardens. He allowed me to take a photo- 

 graph, and when I came away he gave 

 me a pot of honey. I know now that 

 Abdul Kadir Mackawi is my friend in- 

 deed. 



MABRAZES, THE PUBLIC CHEWING HOUSES 



In Aden the mabrazes of the rich are 

 private and often furnished with oriental 

 luxury. Among the Somalis and the com- 

 moner Arabs the mabraz is a well-venti- 

 lated room, hired and furnished for their 

 favorite diversion. The habitue of the 

 public mabraz leaves his house at the ap- 

 pointed hour with his khat tied up in a 

 hright shawl and conspicuously displayed ; 

 he wishes all the world to know that he 

 goes to enjoy himself. In the mabraz 

 rugs have been laid on the floor and pil- 

 lows arranged against the walls. Each 

 man can occupy the space belonging to 

 his pillow and no more. By his side is 

 placed the tall narghili, or hubbuk, of the 



Photograph from Charles K. Moser 



the; bowl which cheers but seldom 

 inebriates 



With a loaf of bread and a bowl of khat, 

 your Arab, unchivalrous though the confession 

 be, needs no "thou" beside him to make his 

 wilderness a paradise enow, Omar Khayyam to 

 the contrary notwithstanding. 



East, two water pots or chatties on cop- 

 per stands, and a bowl of sweets. When 

 the mabraz is comfortably filled with cus- 

 tomers, a servant lights the water pipes, 

 some one produces the Koran or com- 

 mences a story, and the afternoon's pleas- 

 ure begins. Occasionally the tarabs (a 

 kind of three-stringed viol) are played 

 for the amusement of the guests, instead 

 of readings from the sacred books ; also 

 it happens at times that a favorite singer 

 is present. Whenever the listeners are 

 particularly pleased, which is not infre- 

 quent, they interrupt the music with loud 

 shouts of "Tai-eeb!" or "Marhabbal mar- 

 habba!" which is to say, "Good!" or the 

 more approbative, "O friend, excellent 

 indeed !" In these days it is not uncom- 

 mon to find phonographs in the public 

 mabrazes dispensing the classic songs of 

 Egypt. 



But the coolies, the bhisties, or water- 

 carriers, and the hadjis are not found in 

 the mabraz. You will see these despised 

 ones in the humbler coffee shops, sitting 

 on charpoys in a circle, each with his little 



183 



