going straight back to tell the man he's cheated us." With difficulty
I persuaded her it wasn't worth while, and tired and dusty we
sank--no, we didn't sink, they were iron chairs--we sat down hard on
chairs outside a big hotel and demanded tea immediately. Some of the
ship people were also having tea at little tables, and a party of
evil-looking Frenchmen were twanging guitars and singing sentimental
songs for pennies. While we were waiting a man--an Arab, I
think--crouched beside us and begged us to let him read our hands
for half a crown, and we were weak enough to permit it. You may be
interested to know that I am to be married "soon already" to a high
official with gold in his teeth. It sounds ideal. G. was rather awed
by the varied career he sketched for her. After tea, which was long in
coming and when it came disappointing, we had still some time, so we
hailed a man driving a depressed-looking horse attached to a carriage
of sorts, and told him to drive us all round. He looked a very wicked
man, but it may have been the effect of his only having one eye, for
he certainly had a refined taste in sights. When we suggested that we
would like to see the Arab bazaar he shook his head violently, and
instead drove us along dull roads, stopping now and again to wave a
vague whip towards some building, remarking in most melancholy tones
as he did so, "The English Church"--"The American Mission."

Back on the ship again, sitting on deck in the soft darkness, watching
the lights of the town and hearing a faint echo of the life there, I
realized with something of a shock that it was Hallow-e'en. Does that
convey nothing to your mind? To me it brings back memories of
cold, fast-shortening days, and myself jumping long-legged over
cabbage-stalks in the kitchen-garden, chanting--

"This is the nicht o' Hallow-e'en