[p.289] and face[FN#6]; the former was now surmounted by a muslin turband of goodly size, wound round a new embroidered cap; and the latter, besides being clean, boasted of neat little moustaches turned up like two commas, whilst a well-trimmed goat’s beard narrowed until it resembled what our grammars call an “exclamation point.”  The dirty, torn shirt, with the bits of rope round the loins, had been exchanged for a Jubbah or outer cloak of light pink merinos, a long-sleeved Caftan of rich flowered stuff, a fine shirt of Halaili,[FN#7] silk and cotton, and a sash of plaid pattern, elaborately fringed at both ends, and, for better display, wound round two-thirds of his body.  His pantaloons were also of Halaili, with tasteful edgings about the ankles like a “pantilette’s,” while his bare and sun-burnt feet had undergone a thorough purification before being encased in new Mizz[FN#8] (inner slippers), and Papush (outer slippers), of bright lemon-coloured leather of the newest and most fashionable Constantinopolitan cut.  In one of his now delicate hands the Shaykh bore a mother-of-pearl rosary, token of piety; in the other a handsome pipe with a jasmine stick, and an expensive amber mouth-piece; his tobacco pouch, dangling from his waist, like the little purse in the bosom pocket of his coat, was of broadcloth richly embroidered with gold.  In course of time I saw that all

[p.290] my companions had metamorphosed themselves in an equally remarkable manner.  As men of sense they appeared in tatters where they were, or when they wished to be, unknown, and in fine linen where and when the world judged their prosperity by their attire.  Their grand suits of clothes, therefore, were worn only for a few days after returning from the journey, by way of proof that the wearer had wandered to some purpose; they were afterwards laid up in lavender, and reserved for choice occasions, as old ladies in Europe store up their state dresses.

The Shaykh, whose manners had changed with his garments, from the vulgar and boisterous to a certain staid courtesy, took my hand, and led me up to the Majlis [FN#9] (parlour), which was swept and garnished, with all due apparatus, for the forthcoming reception-ceremony.  And behind us followed the boy Mohammed, looking more downcast and ashamed of himself than I can possibly describe; he was still in his rags, and he felt keenly that every visitor staring at him would mentally inquire,-

“Who may that snob be?”

With the deepest dejectedness he squeezed himself into a corner, and Shaykh Nur, who was foully dirty, as an Indian en voyage always is, would have joined him in his shame, had I not ordered the “slave” to make himself generally useful.

It is customary for all relations and friends to call upon the traveller the very day he returns, that is to say, if amity is to endure.  The pipes therefore stood ready filled, the Diwans were duly spread, and the coffee[FN#10] was being boiled upon a brazier in the passage.