334 



MY LIFE 



[Chap. 



forced suddenly upon me, and a dozen pair of hands tried to 

 lift me upon their respective beasts. But now my patience 

 was exhausted, so, keeping firm hold of the bridle I had first 

 taken with one hand, I hit right and left with the other, and 

 calling upon my guide to do the same, we succeeded in 

 clearing a little space around us. Now, then, behold your 

 long-legged friend mounted upon a jackass in the streets of 

 Alexandria ; a boy behind, holding by his tail and whipping 

 him up ; Charles, who had been lost sight of in the crowd, 

 upon another ; and my guide upon a third ; and off we go 

 among a crowd of Jews and Greeks, Turks and Arabs, and 

 veiled women and yelling donkey-boys, to see the city. We 

 saw the bazaars, and the slave market (where I was again 

 nearly pulled to pieces for * backsheesh '), the mosques with 

 their graceful minarets, and then the pasha's new palace, the 

 interior of which is most gorgeous. We passed lots of Turkish 

 soldiers, walking in comfortable irregularity ; and after the 

 consciousness of being dreadful guys for two crowded hours, 

 returned to the hotel, whence we are to start for the canal 

 boats. You may think this little narrative is exaggerated, 

 but it is not so. The pertinacity, vigour, and screams of the 

 Alexandrian donkey-drivers cannot be exaggerated. On our 

 way to the boats we passed Pompey's Pillar ; for a day we 

 were rowed in small boats on a canal, then on the Nile in 

 barges, with a panorama of mud villages, palm-trees, camels, 

 and irrigating wheels turned by buffaloes, — a perfectly flat 

 country, beautifully green with crops of corn and lentils ; 

 endless boats with immense triangular sails. Then the 

 Pyramids came in sight, looking huge and solemn ; then a 

 handsome castellated bridge for the Alexandria and Cairo 

 railway ; and then Cairo — Grand Cairo ! the city of romance, 

 which we reached just before sunset. We took a guide 

 and walked in the city, very picturesque and very dirty. 

 Then to a quiet English hotel, where a Mussulman waiter, 

 rejoicing in the name of Ali-baba, gave us a splendid tea, 

 brown bread and fresh butter. One or two French and 

 English travellers were the only guests, and I could hardly 

 realize my situation. I longed for you to enjoy it with me. 



