the river are wonderfully diverting and curious, so much life and
movement. But the boatmen are sophisticated; my crew have all sported
new white drawers in honour of the Sitti Ingleezee's supposed modesty--of
course compensation will be expected. Poor fellows! they are very well
mannered and quiet in their rags and misery, and their queer little
humming song is rather pretty, 'Eyah Mohammad, eyah Mohammad,' _ad
infinitum_, except when an energetic man cries 'Yallah!'--_i.e_., 'O
God!'--which means 'go it' in everyday life. Omar is gone to fetch one
or two more 'unconsidered trifles,' and I have been explaining the
defects to be remedied in the cabin door, broken window, etc., to my Reis
with the help of six words of Arabic and dumb show, which they understand
and answer with wonderful quickness.

The air on the river is certainly quite celestial--totally unlike the
damp, chilly feeling of the hotel and Frank quarter of Cairo. The
Isbekeeyeh, or public garden, where all the Franks live, was a lake, I
believe, and is still very damp.

I shall go up to the second Cataract as fast as possible, and return back
at leisure. Hekekian Bey came to take leave yesterday, and lent me
several books; pray tell Senior what a kindness his introduction was. It
would have been rather dismal in Cairo--if one could be dismal
there--without a soul to speak to. I was sorry to know no Turks or
Arabs, and have no opportunity of seeing any but the tradesman of whom I
bought my stores but that was very amusing. The young man of whom I
bought my _finjaans_ was so handsome, elegant and melancholy that I know
he was the lover of the Sultan's favourite slave. How I wish you were
here to enjoy all this, so new, so beautiful, and yet so familiar,
life--and you would like the people, poor things! they are complete
children, but amiable children.