“But he says he’s mor’ly bound to have ’em; he says he’ll just go a-rairin’ and a-chargin’ through this house and raise more—­well, there’s no tellin’ what he won’t do if he don’t get ’em; because he’s drunk and crazy and desperate, and nothing’ll soothe him down but them cussed books.” [I had not made any threats, and was not in the condition ascribed to me by the porter.]

     “Well, go on; but I will be around when he goes to rairing and
     charging, and the first rair he makes I’ll make him rair out of the
     window.”  And then the old gentleman went off, growling as before.

The genius of that porter was something wonderful.  He put an armful of books on the bed and said “Good night” as confidently as if he knew perfectly well that those books were exactly my style of reading matter.  And well he might.  His selection covered the whole range of legitimate literature.  It comprised “The Great Consummation,” by Rev. Dr. Cummings—­theology; “Revised Statutes of the State of Missouri”—­law; “The Complete Horse-Doctor”—­medicine; “The Toilers of the Sea,” by Victor Hugo—­romance; “The works of William Shakspeare”—­poetry.  I shall never cease to admire the tact and the intelligence of that gifted porter.

But all the donkeys in Christendom, and most of the Egyptian boys, I think, are at the door, and there is some noise going on, not to put it in stronger language.—­We are about starting to the illustrious Pyramids of Egypt, and the donkeys for the voyage are under inspection.  I will go and select one before the choice animals are all taken.

CHAPTER LVIII.

The donkeys were all good, all handsome, all strong and in good condition, all fast and all willing to prove it.  They were the best we had found any where, and the most ‘recherche’.  I do not know what ‘recherche’ is, but that is what these donkeys were, anyhow.  Some were of a soft mouse-color, and the others were white, black, and vari-colored.  Some were close-shaven, all over, except that a tuft like a paint-brush was left on the end of the tail.  Others were so shaven in fanciful landscape garden patterns, as to mark their bodies with curving lines, which were bounded on one side by hair and on the other by the close plush left by the shears.  They had all been newly barbered, and were exceedingly stylish.  Several of the white ones were barred like zebras with rainbow stripes of blue and red and yellow paint.  These were indescribably gorgeous.  Dan and Jack selected from this lot because they brought back Italian reminiscences of the “old masters.”  The saddles were the high, stuffy, frog-shaped things we had known in Ephesus and Smyrna.  The donkey-boys were lively young Egyptian rascals who could follow a donkey and keep him in a canter half a day without tiring.  We had plenty of spectators when we mounted, for the hotel was full of English people bound overland to