Photograph fi 

 THE CLIMAX OF ARAB CONTENTMENT 



im Charles K. Moser 



The Yemen prototype of Honest Jack Falstaff takes not his ease in his inn with a flagon 

 of sack to soothe and sustain him, but in his mabraz. where, with the aid of juicy khat 

 leaves, he catches glimpses of Allah's rose gardens. The public mabrazes are not so luxu- 

 riously furnished as the private establishment shown here. They correspond to the taverns 

 of the western world or the coffee-houses of the eighteenth century. 



water chatty beside him, and in the center 

 of the circle two or three mudaheen 

 (street beggars) singing their loudest. 

 When the khat is finished each guest pays 

 the shopkeeper a half penny and does not 

 forget to throw a pice to the mudaheen. 



In Aden, khat chewing also takes place 

 in the evening, after sunset prayers have 

 been said. The evening scene differs 

 from that of the afternoon only in the 

 flaring lamps and candles and the red 

 glow from smoking narghilis that throw 

 into black relief the recumbent figures on 

 the mabraz floor. If the mabraz is of the 

 Syeds, descendants of Mohammed, there 

 is no music, but only the droning sing- 

 song reading of tales about the old 

 prophets and the glory of Islam. 



Khat customs differ somewhat in the 

 different towns of the Yemen. In Ho- 

 deidah onlv the lower classes, the servants 

 of European merchants, and the girls who 

 hull coffee berries chew khat before 4 

 o'clock. This is the "official hour" when 

 native business ceases. Charpoys, water 



pipes, and sweetmeats are brought out 

 into the shade before the street door. 

 The men of the household and their male 

 friends sprawl sociably on the charpoys, 

 the ingredients for the promotion of 

 goodly fellowship ready to their hands. 

 A graybeard sits in their midst expound- 

 ing from the sacred book, or conversation 

 lively in character, but subdued in tone, 

 entertains the company. The aged, the 

 palsied, even the dying, are brought down 

 on their beds from the top of the house 

 to partake of this feast of reason and 

 flow of wit. Inside the latticed windows 

 the women sit, munching the second best 

 leaves and listening to the scraps of wis- 

 dom that float to them from the company 

 below. At Sanaa, where the climate is 

 always delightfully cool, there is no inter- 

 ruption of business for khat chewing. 

 During all hours of the afternoon the 

 busy merchant picks heedlessly at the 

 green bundle beside him, and a cud of 

 much proportion constantly wads his 

 cheek. 



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