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● some of the comrades who have gone up ▓for one trip.They pump a town dr●y, and, not satisfied to wait until they hi▓t Cairo again, go on a blow-o▓ut and lie around dru

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nk for a week where those w▓ho gave them ticket money can see them.That ●queers the burg for the next six months▓.Of course you know enough to be of the same c▓hurch, and very pious, when you hit a missiona●ry, and to be from the same state when yo●u touch an American Above all

neve●r let a boat load of tourists go

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by wi●thout touching them.Always go down to the ●dock and make enough noise so that they al▓l hear you.Some of the boys who are goo●d at it throw a fit when they get in ?/p> image

馻 crowd of rich ones.But as you talk English,▓ a good tale of woe will do as well.Whe▓n you get well up the river, and a good tan, an▓d a couple of weeks’ beard, spring t▓he old yarn of ‘lost my job a▓nd must get down to Cairo.’ 218And always wa▓it for a train.You’ll miss the whole game i●f you walk; and you’ll die of su▓nstroke, besides.” In the fa▓ce of Pia’s warning, I left Cairo on foot t▓he next morning, and, crossing the Nil●e, turned southward along a ridge of▓ shifting sand beyond the village of Gizeh●.Along an irrigating ditch, that flank▓ed the ridge, scores of shadufs▓, those human paradigms of p●erpetual motio

n, were ceaselessl▓y dipping, dipping, the water tha▓t gives life to the fields of Egypt.Between t▓he canal and the sparkling Nile, groups ▓of fellahs, deaf to the blatant suns▓hine, set out sugar cane or clawed the so▓il of the arid plain.On the desert win●d rode the never-ceasing squawk of ▓the sakka, or Egyptian water-wheel. Beyo▓nd the pyramids of Sakkara, ▓I sought shelter in the palm groves that cov▓er the site of ancient Memphis, and to▓ok my siesta on the recumbent sta●tue of Rameses.A backsheesh-thirs●ty village rose up to cut off my ▓return

to the sandy road, and forced me to r

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othed infant ast●ride a mother’s shoulder thrusts fort●h a dimpled hand to the passing white ma▓n with a gurgle of “sheesh.●” As darkness came on I reached the ra●ilway station of Mazgoona, so●me thirty miles from Cairo.Th▓e village lay far off to the eastwar▓d; but the station master invited me to sup●per and spread a quilt bed in

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t●he telegraph office. A biting ▓wind blew from the north when I set ●out again in the morning.A ▓hundred yards from the station▓, a cry of “monsoor” was borne to▓ my ears, and a servant summoned me● back to his master’s office. “I ha●ve just received a wire,” said● the latter, “from the divis

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