or without that excuse, the Moor can roll forth the most intricate
genealogical objurgations, or rap out an oath. In ordinary cases of
displeasure he is satisfied with showering expletives on the parents
and grand-parents of the object of his wrath, with derogatory
allusions to the morals of those worthies' "better halves." "May God
have mercy on thy relatives, O my Lord," is a common way of addressing
a stranger respectfully, and the contrary expression is used to
produce a reverse effect.

I am often asked, "What would a Moor think of this?" Probably some
great invention will be referred to, or some manifest improvement in
our eyes over Moorish methods or manufactures. If it was something
he could see, unless above the average, he would look at it as a cow
looks at a new gate, without intelligence, realizing only the change,
not the cause or effect. By this time the Moors are becoming familiar,
at least by exaggerated descriptions, with most of the foreigner's
freaks, and are beginning to refuse to believe that the Devil assists
us, as they used to, taking it for granted that we should be more
ingenious, and they more wise! The few who think are apt to pity the
rush of our lives, and write us down, from what they have themselves
observed in Europe as in Morocco, as grossly immoral beside even their
acknowledged failings. The faults of our civilization they quickly
detect, the advantages are mostly beyond their comprehension.

Some years ago a friend of mine showed two Moors some of the sights
of London. When they saw St. Paul's they told of the glories of the
Karûeeïn mosque at Fez; with the towers of Westminster before them
they sang the praises of the Kûtûbîya at Marrákesh. Whatever they saw
had its match in Morocco. But at last, as a huge dray-horse passed
along the highway with its heavy load, one grasped the other's arm