On one occasion my donkey-boy,
Hassan, was angry with me because I would not let him buy feed for the
donkey, Ammon Ra, and refused to bring him up when I wanted to mount.
I called to the dragoman, and said:
"Imam, Hassan won't bring up my donkey."
Imam looked at him a moment in silence, then with a lightning slap on
the cheek he laid him flat in the sand. I was horrified. But to my
amazement Hassan hopped up and began to kiss my sleeve and to
apologize, saying, "Very good lady. Bad donkey-boy. Hassan sorry. Very
good lady."
We have had three Christmases this year. The first was in Berlin, the
second in Russia, and the third on the Nile--the day after the fast of
Ramazan is ended. Ramazan lasts only thirty days instead of forty,
like our Lent. The thirty-first is a holiday. They present each other
with gifts, do no work, and picnic in the graveyards.
Between Esneh and Luxor we passed a steamer with some English officers
on board, and their steamer was towing two flat-boats containing their
regiments, all going to Kitchener in the Soudan. I used the
field-glass on-them, while my companion photographed them.
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