_Sunday_.--Abu Hassan reported his son so much better that I did not go
after him, having several things to do, and Omar being deep in cooking a
_festin de Balthazar_ because Ross was to dine with me. The weather is
delicious--much what we had at Bournemouth in summer--but there is a
great deal of sickness, and I fear there will be more, from people
burying dead cattle on their premises inside the town. It costs 100
_gersh_ to bury one outside the town. All labour is rendered scarce,
too, as well as food dear, and the streets are not cleaned and water hard
to get. My _sakka_ comes very irregularly, and makes quite a favour of
supplying us with water. All this must tell heavily on the poor.
Hekekian's wife had seventy head of cattle on her farm--one wretched
bullock is left; and, of seven to water the house in Cairo, also one
left, and that expected to die. I wonder what ill-conditioned fellow of
a Moses is at the bottom of it. Hajjee Ali has just been here, and
offers me his tents if I like to go up to Thebes and not live in a boat,
so that I may not be dependent on getting a house there. He is engaged
by Lady Herbert of Lea, so will not go to Syria this year and has all his
tents to spare. I fancy I might be very comfortable among the tombs of
the Kings or in the valley of Assaseef with good tents. It is never cold
at all among the hills at Thebes--_au contraire_. On the sunny side of
the valley you are broiled and stunned with heat in January, and in the
shade it is heavenly. How I do wish you could come too, how you would
enjoy it! I shall rather like the change from a boat life to a Bedawee
one, with my own sheep and chickens and horse about the tent, and a small
following of ragged retainers; moreover, it will be considerably cheaper,
I think.



November 21, 1863: Mrs. Austin