threw a penny. The whole gang of beggars scrambled after it, and there
ensued a scrimmage with much shouting and swearing in Arabic.

We could see the city lit up beyond the dull gray docks.

Next morning we went for a route march through Alexandria. We marched
through the dockyards. Gangs of native workmen in native costume-
coloured robes and bare feet, turbans and red fezes--were working on
the transports, unloading box after box of bully-beef and biscuit and
piling them in huge "dumps" on the quays. Rusty chains clanked, steam
cranes rattled and puffed out whiffs of white steam.

But they did not hustle or hurry. They worked under the direction of
English sergeants and officers, loading and unloading.

At last we got outside the zone of awful ugliness which follows the
British wherever they go. The docks were left behind and the change
was sudden and startling.

It was like putting down a novel by Arnold Bennett and taking up the
Koran.

I did not trouble to keep in step or "cover off." My eyes were trying
to take in the splendid Eastern scenes. Here were figures which had
come right out of the Arabian Nights.

Was that not Haroun Al Raschid, Commander of the Faithful, disguised
as a water-carrier, with a goatskin bottle slung over his shoulder,
and great yellow baggy trousers and a striped cummerbund?