half the value. A water-seller offers a brass cup of water; I drink, and
give the huge sum of twopence, and he distributes the contents of his
skin to the crowd (there always is a crowd) in my honour. It seems I
have done a pious action. Finally a boy is called to carry the _batterie
de cuisine_, while Omar brandishes a gigantic kettle which he has picked
up a little bruised for four shillings. The boy has a donkey which I
mount astride _a l'Arabe_, while the boy carries all the copper things on
his head. We are rather a grand procession, and quite enjoy the fury of
the dragomans and other leeches who hang on the English at such
independent proceedings, and Omar gets reviled for spoiling the trade by
being cook, dragoman, and all in one.

I went this morning with Hekekian Bey to the two earliest mosques. The
Touloun is exquisite--noble, simple, and what ornament there is is the
most delicate lacework and embossing in stone and wood. This Arab
architecture is even more lovely than our Gothic. The Touloun is now a
vast poorhouse, a nest of paupers. I went into three of their lodgings.
Several Turkish families were in a large square room neatly divided into
little partitions with old mats hung on ropes. In each were as many bits
of carpet, mat and patchwork as the poor owner could collect, and a small
chest and a little brick cooking-place in one corner of the room with
three earthern pipkins for I don't know how many people;--that was
all--they possess no sort of furniture, but all was scrupulously clean
and no bad smell whatever. A little boy seized my hand and showed where
he slept, ate and cooked with the most expressive pantomime. As there
were women, Hekekian could not come in, but when I came out an old man
told us they received three loaves (cakes as big as a sailor's biscuit),
four piastres a month--_i.e_., eightpence per adult--a suit of clothes a
year, and on festive occasions lentil soup. Such is the almshouse here.
A little crowd belonging to the house had collected, and I gave sixpence