To my amazement to-day in walked the tremendous Alim from Tunis, Sheykh Abd-el-Moutovil, who used to look so black at me.  He was very civil and pleasant and asked no end of questions about steam engines, and telegraphs and chemistry; especially whether it was true that the Europeans still fancied they could make gold.  I said that no one had believed that for nearly two hundred years, and he said that the Arabs also knew it was ‘a lie,’ and he wondered to hear that Europeans, who were so clever, believed it.  He had just been across the Nile to see the tombs of the Kings and of course ‘improved the occasion’ and uttered a number of the usual fine sayings about the vanity of human things.  He told me I was the only Frank he had ever spoken to.  I observed he did not say a word about religion, or use the usual pious phrases.  By the bye, Sheykh Yussuf filled up my inkstand for me the other evening and in pouring the ink said ‘Bismillah el-Rachman el-Racheem’ (In the name of God, the merciful, the compassionate).  I said ’I like that custom, it is good to remind us that ink may be a cruel poison or a good medicine.’

I am better, and have hardly any cough.  The people here think it is owing to the intercession of Abu-l-Hajjaj who specially protects me.  I was obliged to be wrapped in the green silk cover of his tomb when it was taken off to be carried in procession, partly for my health and general welfare, and as a sort of adoption into the family.  I made a feeble resistance on the score of being a Nazraneeyeh but was told ’Never fear, does not God know thee and the Sheykh also? no evil will come to thee on that account but good.’  And I rather think that general goodwill and kindness is wholesome.

February 7, 1865:  Miss Austin

To Miss Austin.  LUXOR, February 7, 1865.

My Dearest Charley,

I am tolerably well, but I am growing very homesick—­or rather children-sick.  As the time slips on I get more and more the feeling of all I am losing of my children.  We have delicious weather here and have had all the time; there has been no cold at all this winter here.

M. Prevost Paradol is here for a few days—­a very pleasant man indeed, and a little good European talk is a very agreeable interlude to the Arab prosiness, or rather enfantillage, on the part of the women.  I have sought about for shells and a few have been brought me from the Cataract, but of snails I can learn no tidings nor have I ever seen one, neither can I discover that there are any shells in the Nile mud.  At the first Cataract they are found sticking to the rocks.  The people here are very stupid about natural objects that are of no use to them.  Like with the French small birds are all sparrows, and wild flowers there are none, and only about five varieties of trees in all Egypt.