A Great Palm-Tree
Springs Up In The Midst, With Plentiful Shrubberies, And A Talking
Fountain.
The room beside the divan is furnished with one deal
table, value five shillings; four wooden chairs, value six
shillings; and a couple of mats and carpets.
The table and chairs
are luxuries imported from Europe. The regular Oriental dinner is
put upon copper trays, which are laid upon low stools. Hence J-
Effendi's house may be said to be much more sumptuously furnished
than those of the Beys and Agas his neighbours.
When these things had been examined at leisure, J- appeared. Could
it be the exquisite of the "Europa" and the "Trois Freres"? A man-
-in a long yellow gown, with a long beard somewhat tinged with
grey, with his head shaved, and wearing on it, first, a white
wadded cotton nightcap; second, a red tarboosh - made his appearance
and welcomed me cordially. It was some time, as the Americans say,
before I could "realise" the semillant J- of old times.
He shuffled off his outer slippers before he curled up on the divan
beside me. He clapped his hands, and languidly called "Mustapha."
Mustapha came with more lights, pipes, and coffee; and then we fell
to talking about London, and I gave him the last news of the
comrades in that dear city. As we talked, his Oriental coolness
and languor gave way to British cordiality; he was the most amusing
companion of the club once more.
He has adapted himself outwardly, however, to the Oriental life.
When he goes abroad he rides a grey horse with red housings, and
has two servants to walk beside him. He wears a very handsome
grave costume of dark blue, consisting of an embroidered jacket and
gaiters, and a pair of trousers, which would make a set of dresses
for an English family. His beard curls nobly over his chest, his
Damascus scimitar on his thigh. His red cap gives him a venerable
and Bey-like appearance. There is no gewgaw or parade about him,
as in some of your dandified young Agas. I should say that he is a
Major-General of Engineers, or a grave officer of State. We and
the Turkified European, who found us at dinner, sat smoking in
solemn divan.
His dinners were excellent; they were cooked by a regular Egyptian
female cook. We had delicate cucumbers stuffed with forced-meats;
yellow smoking pilaffs, the pride of the Oriental cuisine; kid and
fowls a l'Aboukir and a la Pyramide: a number of little savoury
plates of legumes of the vegetable-marrow sort: kibobs with an
excellent sauce of plums and piquant herbs. We ended the repast
with ruby pomegranates, pulled to pieces, deliciously cool and
pleasant. For the meats, we certainly ate them with the Infidel
knife and fork; but for the fruit, we put our hands into the dish
and flicked them into our mouths in what cannot but be the true
Oriental manner. I asked for lamb and pistachio-nuts, and cream-
tarts au poivre; but J.'s cook did not furnish us with either of
those historic dishes.
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