old fellow a pill and dose some days ago, but his dura ilia took no notice, and he came for more, and got castor-oil.  I have not seen him since, but his employer, fellah Omar, sent me a lot of delicious butter in return.  I think it shows great intelligence in these people, how none of them will any longer consult an Arab hakeem if they can get a European to physic them.  They now ask directly whether the Government doctors have been to Europe to learn Hekmeh, and if not they don’t trust them—­for poor ‘savages’ and ‘heathens’ ce n’est pas si bete.  I had to interrupt my lessons from illness, but Sheykh Yussuf came again last night.  I have mastered Abba shedda o mus beteen—­ibbi shedda o heftedeen, etc.  Oh dear, what must poor Arab children suffer in learning ABC!  It is a terrible alphabet, and the shekel (points) are desesperants; but now I stick for want of a dictionary.

Mr. Arrowsmith kindly gave me Miss Martineau’s book, which I have begun.  It is true as far as it goes, but there is the usual defect—­the people are not real people, only part of the scenery to her, as to most Europeans.  You may conceive how much we are naturalized when I tell you that I have received a serious offer of marriage for Sally.  Mustapha A’gha has requested me to ‘give her to him’ for his eldest son Seyyid, a nice lad of nineteen or twenty at most.  As Mustapha is the richest and most considerable person here, it shows that the Arabs draw no unfavourable conclusions as to our morals from the freedom of our manners.  He said of course she would keep her own religion and her own customs.  Seyyid is still in Alexandria, so it will be time to refuse when he returns.  I said she was too old, but they think that no objection at all.  She will have to say that her father would not allow it, for of course a handsome offer deserves a civil refusal.  Sally’s proposals would be quite an ethnological study; Mustapha asked what I should require as dowry for her.  Fancy Sally as Hareem of the Sheykh-el-Beled of Luxor!

I am so charmed with my house that I begin seriously to contemplate staying here all the time.  Cairo is so dear now, and so many dead cattle are buried there, that I think I should do better in this place.  There is a huge hall, so large and cold now as to be uninhabitable, which in summer would be glorious.  My dear old captain of steamer XII. would bring me up coffee and candles, and if I ‘sap’ and learn to talk to people, I shall have plenty of company.

The cattle disease has not extended above Minieh to any degree, and here there has not been a case. Alhamdulillah!  Food is very good here, rather less than half Cairo prices even now; in summer it will be half that.  Mustapha urges me to stay, and proposes a picnic of a few days over in the tombs with his Hareem as a diversion.  I have got a photo, for a stereoscope, which I send you, of my two beloved, lovely palm-trees on the river-bank just above and looking over Philae.